Aziz fumbled for a flashlight, put his cell phone, a handful of antibiotics and some biscuits in his pockets, slung his Kalashnikov over his shoulder and laced up his white sneakers. He flagged down a truck headed for town, and reported to the Patriotic Union of Kurdistan (PUK) HQ. All day long, men like him trickled into the courtyard, volunteers ready to face an Iraqi attack—and perhaps to cross the front and fight south themselves.