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The souring can-do spirit reflected the deepening tensions that settled over the capital within 36 hours of the troops' arrival, as sniper fire and gun battles resumed. For the most part, foreign troops saw none of the fighting. "When Somalis are fighting Somalis, we do nothing," Oakley said. "They can do whatever they want to each other."
But on Saturday came the first exchange of fire between American troops and local gunmen. A Somali armored personnel carrier fired on two U.S. Cobra gunships, which returned the fire, destroying three armed vehicles and causing several Somali casualties.
A more controversial incident took place Thursday evening, when jittery American and French troops fired at a Somali van as it raced through a control point, ignoring orders to stop. The vehicle crashed into a wall. Two people were killed, and seven were injured. Early reports suggested the vehicle was an armed technical, but the next day French commanders said the van had been unarmed. Colonel Fred Peck, spokesman for the U.S. coalition, was unapologetic. "I don't have to recall to you what happened in Beirut," he said, referring to the 1983 bombing that took the lives of 241 U.S. troops. "We acted in what we thought was an appropriate fashion."
Somalis who witnessed the accident were less forgiving. "They seem to be restoring the terror and trouble," said a man who would not give his name for fear of reprisal from the foreigners. Seemingly unimpressed by the scale and attendant dangers of the pacification effort, he complained of French troops entering his home uninvited. "Why do they go into people's houses without our permission?" he said. "Are they here to restore peace?"
That question was echoed by frustrated relief workers who no longer enjoyed the protection of their own armed fighters and were not yet feeling the benefit of the Marines' presence. On Thursday seven vehicles owned by nongovernment organizations were hijacked. "They tell us not to carry any weapons, then they refuse to offer us any protection," said a relief worker. "Well, thank you. We still have to work in this place." The U.S. later issued a clarification, permitting the aid organizations to carry small arms.
More serious was the delay in moving troops into the countryside. Original plans called for units to relieve Baidoa, one of the chief feeding centers, 150 miles from Mogadishu, within a few days. Fighting there had intensified as gunmen, flushed from the capital, turned on one another and terrorized the town with killing and looting. "This is the direct result of the Marines shirking their duty," said Rick Grant, a spokesman for CARE. "This is bordering on criminal negligence. Our people are at extreme risk." Relief workers barricaded themselves into their compounds, but local citizens, - starving and in the line of fire, had nowhere to hide. It was unclear if the delayed deployment of U.S. troops reflected continuing security problems in Mogadishu or concerns about the mounting lawlessness in Baidoa. On Friday Lieut. General Robert Johnston, the U.S. commander of the mission, told relief agencies that the Marines expected to move into the city in a week to 10 days.