• Arts & Entertainment
• Issue 2

As part of our portraits series London Project talked with an Iraqi policeman stationed in Baghdad. Sergeant Khalid Hassan (not his real name) spoke to Ahmed Maliki about his typical workday in the most dangerous city on earth.

Polishing a gun, holed up inside a dusty police station in western Baghdad, it's hard for Sgt. 1st Class Khalid Hassan to believe that only four years ago he was a chef at one of Baghdad's best-known hotels.

"I didn't think I would be a policeman," he laughed. "I wanted to continue working in the Al-Hamra hotel as a chef, but I had to change because of my financial circumstances."

With jobs in short supply, Hassan agreed to work as a security guard until he could find a permanent position.

"I realised that it could be a job with a good salary and a guaranteed pension - if I live that long," he said.

"Since I came here last year things have changed drastically. We've gradually increased our patrols but attacks on us have become more lethal."

Nearly 7,000 Iraqi security officers have died in the most recent Iraq conflict and its aftermath, according to the Iraq Coalition Casualty Count.

But Hassan's reasons for joining the most dangerous police force in the world weren't only financial - he saw it as almost a sacred duty.

"Iraq cannot be saved by heavenly grace, but by its people," he said.

His life is always at risk.                                                           

"I am Shiite and live in an area where militias have more control than the security forces, so every time I leave my house I have to look out the windows and check the situation," he said.

The moments after breakfast are often the most poignant.

"I look at my family - my parents, my brothers and sister - and think of the probability that I might not see them again or come back alive."

Hassan has not revealed that he works with the security forces to his neighbours.

"I greet people in my neighbourhood quickly before the bus whisks me away," he said. 

His first battle begins before he gets to work. First he must travel across the city to the Khadra police station, one of the city's most dangerous.

"There are constant attacks along the route - roadside bombs, car bombs and fake checkpoints," he said.

"Since my colleagues and I are afraid of the way, we agree to work the same days so that we can help each other. Being together encourages us to keep strong."

Inside the police station, Hassan checks to see who is there and still alive before changing into his blue uniform and loading his AK-47. A quick glance at the duty roster tells him whether he is on lookout, reinforcement or patrol. Patrols are the most dangerous, especially in Sunni-controlled zones. Although the police forces are mixed, suspicion remains.

"Shiites are concerned that their colleagues could lead them into a Sunni ambush them at some stage," he said.

The militias' hit-and-run tactics make attacks hard to avoid and guerillas hard to catch.

"I am not afraid of my enemies, but they have better equipment," he said.

"We lose many policemen in clashes with terrorists who have machine guns. Enemy fire also comes from inside houses, which complicates our defence. Any mistake could result in a civilian death."

On particularly violent days, the police are kept indoors until the dust settles. They then have a new task - corpse collecting.

"We get used to collecting corpses - people riddled with bullets, tortured to death and thrown into garbage piles," said Hassan.

His primary concern is to avoid the same fate, even if it means missing a homemade lunch.

"We get the same rations as the inmates," he laughed. "Of course we don't like it." Some days the men draw straws to see who will venture out to a local market for better meals, but this is rare. Bad food is just an annoyance. The militias outside shoot to kill.

Unlike many of his colleagues, though, he has a good rapport with the American soldiers.

"They come and ask us about our needs," he said, "and I speak with them in English about their lives and families. They gave me Usher's last album."

At the end of the day, he changes out of his uniform and returns his bullets to the ammunition store. For the trip home, he will use his own gun.

"The return home is yet another battle. Sometimes we take a taxi so we can watch everything outside, keeping our guns ready for an emergency."

Being able to return home makes it a good day. When he reaches his neighbourhood, the dangers of his job seem to fade away.

"I often return home tired and ready for sleep, but other times I watch movies with my friends," he said.

But even in the same town, it's a million miles away from the hotel's pay-per-view.

Images:unclebumpy spcoon