WHIPPED TO A FRENZY

By BRENT SADLER/BAGHDAD

Inside a military base on the outskirts of Baghdad, fresh volunteers for one of Saddam Hussein's fanatic commando units charged across the training field. As instructors, clad in ninja black, fired automatic rifles into the sand, the recruits psyched themselves into a frenzy. Suddenly a dog was dragged among them. Its bark turned into an anguished squeal as they slit its throat and disemboweled the beast. Amid the gory scene, the excited volunteers screamed, "Our God, our nation, our leader!" After they finished off the dog, they pulled live rabbits apart, limb from limb. The recruits ripped the raw rabbit flesh with their teeth, smearing their faces with blood and fur. It was a bizarre indoctrination ceremony, apparently designed to underline Iraq's message to the world: Saddam Hussein was preparing his people for a fight.

Iraqis could watch such gruesome scenes on television last week. "My family finds the animal rituals revolting," said a businessman. "We turn away. But the outside world should know that we're on our knees because of economic sanctions. Desperate people do desperate things." The people were more practical than panicky. "We expect missiles and bombs anytime," said a motorist. So like tens of thousands of others in Baghdad, he waited in line for hours to fill his gas tank. "We're not scared, but we have to take precautions. The smell of danger is very strong."

Years of repression have all but silenced opposition to Saddam Hussein, who can command mass demonstrations of devotion at any time. As the specter of a U.S. attack rose, obedient Iraqis streamed into the presidential palace to act as human shields. They chanted and moved on cues from government officials. Most appeared enthusiastic, waved posters of the Iraqi leader and vowed absolute loyalty. Some mothers with young children seemed exhausted and indifferent. Others were confused: "How long must we stay?" "What should we do?" They received no answers.

Most of the human shields appeared to be poor, their shoes in tatters, their clothing threadbare and dirty. They sat on roughly cut squares of dark-brown carpeting inside a cavernous marble-paved hall decorated with giant crystal chandeliers and precious works of art. Unaccustomed to such trappings of wealth, many of the visitors were wide-eyed and speechless.

In Baghdad's al-Rasheed Hotel, meanwhile, staff members were busy polishing the marble entrance where guests walk over a mosaic of the American President who bombed the city in 1991. The inscription: BUSH IS CRIMINAL. Inside was a more traditional welcome, with the same editorial message. Waiters served cups of coffee in a Bedouin tent next to a sign that read DOWN DOWN AMERICA. USA COUNTRY OF TERRORISM.

The stage props of this crisis all seemed very familiar. More than six years after the end of the last war, Iraqis were again hoping for the best but preparing for the worst.

BRENT SADLER is a senior international correspondent for CNN