LSA ANACONDA, Iraq — The $50 bills were laid out in neat piles and, in a matter of minutes, the desk in the air-conditioned trailer was covered in $4,600 in cash.

"Well, today should be a good day," 2nd Lt. Keith Bishop, 24, had said, having pulled out an envelope with the money from a cargo pocket on his desert camouflage uniform.

If it was a good day for Satar Hussein Mohammed, a 55-year-old Iraqi man in a white robe and headdress, he wasn't showing it.

He stared passively as the cash was paid out. His car had been totaled by a U.S. Army 18-wheeler on the road to Baghdad, and he was being compensated for the loss. If anything, he was pragmatic and understanding.

"(Many accidents) happen every day, but I trust them," Mohammed said through interpreter Eva Gergis. "I know the coalition forces are people we can trust. ... They are here to help us; all people know that."

All Iraqis do not feel that way. But the payments made by Hawai'i National Guard soldiers for loss of life, injury or property damage likely go a long way in Arab culture, where "an eye for an eye" is reality, and nonpayment could make for even more bomb makers.

Three days a week, civil affairs staffers with the 29th Brigade Combat Team hear claims in the trailer at Logistical Support Area Anaconda, 50 miles north of Baghdad.

For Spc. Naomi Suzuki, 31, from Waikiki, who performs administrative work at the Civil-Military Operations Center, it's a chance to meet Iraqis — but not in the way she'd like.

"I want to visit the villages. It's not enough interaction. What happened to playing with the kids and giving away things?" said Suzuki, who, like many others midway through the year-long deployment, leaves the base infrequently.

She went with a convoy once to check on a water treatment plant and flew once to Baghdad for a conference.

"I just want a couple of missions," she said.

In the meantime, she logs in the reparations made to Iraqis and other information on cases.

Payments for deaths and injuries can be less than payments for lost property. "Condolence payments" can total $2,500 for a death or $1,500 for an injury.

According to the Los Angeles Times, under the condolence program, launched in mid-2003, the U.S. military does not claim to compensate Iraqis for their losses and does not acknowledge liability or negligence but, rather, is making a gesture of sympathy.

"A lot are vehicles and damages or vehicles seized," said Bishop, who's from Washington, D.C., and was placed with the Hawai'i Guard unit. "Recently, we've had a lot of people whose weapons have been taken because they didn't have weapons permits."

There are the personal injury claims from Iraqis who are shot or injured, "and then, probably, 'Why did you raid my house and break my stuff?' " Bishop said.

In five months, the civil affairs team had paid out about $15,000, Bishop said. "I've been told that's small compared to some offices, like down in Baghdad," he said.

Last fall, the Marines paid nearly $2 million to Iraqis in Najaf for deaths or property destroyed during fighting in the city in August.

The judge advocate general's office can investigate cases; a claims officer decides payouts.

There are some bizarre claims, like the man who said a fist-sized rock with "Mr. Pink" written on it was hurled from a passing convoy and hit his car. The rock damaged the windshield, side mirror and a side window, he said.

Another claimant said a U.S. airplane or helicopter fired a rocket that killed a cow and an ox — but the cow was pregnant, according to the claim, so actually three animals were killed.

On this day, Bishop and Suzuki were trying to facilitate the claim of a 21-year-old Kirkuk man whose family was injured when a Bradley Fighting Vehicle rolled over the hood of his car.

Another claim, for $31,300 for the destruction of fruit trees, needed more review. The Iraqi man filing the claim said a U.S. helicopter dropped flares — used to confuse heat-seeking missiles — starting a fire that burned about 67 acres.

Suzuki, a Guard soldier for four years who worked at the Sheraton Waikiki as manager of Japanese guest services, said the deployment "is not as bad as I thought it would be."

"I'm trying to think — it's only 120 degrees. When it's 140, I'll die," she said.

Her husband moved to Japan, and she's thinking of doing so when she gets back, but she's definitely not going to stay in the Guard.

"If you're single and no family, it's not bad," she said.