BUFERDOS, Iraq --With lightning speed, the convoy of armored Humvees and Bradley fighting vehicles descended on this tiny hamlet in the volatile Sunni triangle, guns poised and soldiers pumped.

But instead of attacking insurgents or seizing weapons, these U.S. troops rapidly installed an impromptu medical clinic and started taking temperatures and checking pulses.

"We work in hostile environments doing humanitarian work," said U.S. Army Col. Nicholas Zoeller of the 13th Corps Support Command. "If the bad guys know we're coming, they can set up for us. We usually come in unannounced. We do what we can and leave."

Samir Mizban, Associated Press Manal Kadim fans her daughter Zahraa inside their Baghdad home without electricity to power airconditioning or fans yesterday. As the intense heat bears down on them, resilient Iraqis are relying on their hallmark ingenuity to cope; swimming in the Tigris, sleeping on their roofs and wearing towels on their heads for shade. But the frequent power outages are testing even their legendary endurance. Click photo for larger image.

U.S. forces, trying to win hearts and minds in Iraq amid an insurgency that has shown no sign of abating, have come up with some creative ways to deliver help to the Iraqi people without risking their own lives. Unfortunately, the quick-hit humanitarian work done under such circumstances winds up being incomplete, U.S. officials admit.

"We can't help these people much," said one military doctor at Buferdos, where soldiers recently spent two hours speedily treating villagers who suffered chronic illnesses from drinking polluted canal water. "These people need real medical attention and a real clinic. This is a Band-aid."

Despite the official transfer of political power from the U.S.-led coalition authority to the interim Iraqi government and the hauling into court of former Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein over the past two weeks, U.S. and allied forces in Iraq still are attacked 40 to 50 times a day, according to U.S. officials. As a result, force protection -- the military term for measures that protect troops from harm -- often takes precedence over other objectives.

As the soldiers arrived in Buferdos the other day in a 12-vehicle convoy, they posted a Bradley fighting vehicle at the end of the road and quickly secured a school building in the center of the village to serve as the medical clinic. Sharpshooters mounted nearby roofs and soldiers stood guard outside.

Buferdos, a leafy, swampy stretch of land along the Tigris River about 40 miles north of Baghdad, is a mostly Shiite town long friendly to the U.S. presence here.

It is also dire need of medical care. Without access to fresh water, the townspeople have been forced to drink dirty water from the local canal for years. With no ready access to fuel, they usually cannot afford to boil it.

As a result, most of the village's 800 or so inhabitants suffer from a long list of mysterious maladies, stomach aches, fevers and diarrhea. Children's growth has been stunted, and teenagers look like grade-schoolers. Inside their homes, children afflicted with inexplicable gastronomical pains and infections cry for hours.

Charmed by the townspeople's colorful dress and friendliness, U.S. soldiers have made a pet project of Buferdos. They rebuilt the local elementary school and last month sponsored a toy giveaway.

They have sought to make Buferdos a model village, in contrast to nearby settlements like Shahab, where radars have detected regular mortar and rocket fire directed at Logistical Support Area Anaconda, the sprawling U.S. base where Zoeller's troops and 21,000 other soldiers and personnel live.

"It's a reward for keeping the peace," he said. "We reward those who are friendly and we don't reward those who are not friendly. Quite frankly, [Shahab] has not been friendly."

Still, even in the eyes of the residents of Buferdos, U.S. forces have broken more promises than they have kept, said Yussef Ibrahim, a tribal leader. "The coalition forces told us that we would get a water treatment plant, a clinic and paved roads," he said through a U.S. Army interpreter. "We haven't gotten anything."

Zoeller said the Americans never promised Buferdos anything, although the villagers might have expected more than they've received. That morning, after securing Buferdos for the clinic operation, Zoeller summoned a village elder and asked him to spread the word: the Americans have arrived to provide free medical care.

Villagers quickly began queuing up -- young and old, women and men -- one short line for the dentists, one long line for the doctors. At that point, 20 minutes were wasted as someone tried to find keys to the locked school; with classes out for the summer, the building had been closed, and no one knew the Americans were coming.

The soldiers finally unlocked the school and spent another 30 minutes moving desks and tables. They set up a triage system to funnel patients to the right rooms.

People began to rush inside. The U.S. doctors and medical assistants tried to treat as many as they could.

A dental hygienist showed a group of young people how to brush their teeth, handing out brushes and candy.

Spec. Tamarin Jenkins, of Seattle, Wash., jotted down the names of patients, an M-16 slung over her shoulder.

One doctor examined a sick girl in a torn pink dress as she cried uncontrollably.

"Does she have a fever?" he asked her parents. "Is she vomiting?"

Yes and yes, they replied.

He prescribed antibiotics, warning the girl's mother that they would cause dehydration. He told her to make sure that her daughter drank plenty of water, even though she would probably have to drink the same water that caused her ailment in the first place.

Then, as quickly as they had come, the soldiers gathered their equipment, handed out leftover toothbrushes and candy, and headed back to their base.

"Hopefully, if we have positive interactions with some of the people, we can get them to police themselves and stop the insurgents," said Maj. Michael Myslenski, of Brooklyn, Conn., a physicians' assistant on the mission.

"Every time that we interact with the people of Iraq," he said, "it's our chance to make a positive impression for our military and our country."