Ready to Rumble

By Simon Robinson/South of the Iraqi border

It is cramped and hot inside a light armored vehicle (LAV). Wearing a flak vest and helmet, and a belt hung with weapon, flashlight, knife and gas mask, a Marine has just enough room to slide into his seat. The commander sits behind a thermal eyepiece, surrounded by metal and wires and the photo his girlfriend gave him when he left a few weeks ago. To his left is the gunner, whose job is to feed in rounds, making sure they don't tangle. Below and ahead but out of sight unless he leans back so far he is lying almost flat is the driver. In here, the team commands its own little world. This button swings the turret around. The switch in front of the gunner fires an optically tracked wire-guided missile. But the outside world is harder to control. Out there, over the Iraqi border, are enemies who will want to kill these Americans if war comes. And now protesters at home are demanding that the troops return from here without firing a shot. "We're confused," says Marine Private First Class Patrick Cox, 21, an LAV driver from Broken Bow, Neb. "Are the protesters going to spit on us when we go home?"

As the world divides over war with Iraq, American troops training in Kuwait's northern desert are closing ranks. Debate over U.S. foreign policy loses its subtleties in the tents that house more than 70,000 soldiers and Marines readying for an invasion. Western peace activists who have traveled to Baghdad to act as human shields are dismissed as "speed bumps" by rank-and-file grunts. At a recent rally for 3,000 Marines, a sergeant major steals the show by launching barbs at France, which has led the opposition to war. "How many French people does it take to defend Paris?" he asks. "None. Because it's never been done before."

The joking hides a creeping frustration among American troops that diplomatic wrangling may keep them sitting in the sand for months. National Security Adviser Condoleezza Rice suggested last week that one reason to invade sooner rather than later was that "uncertainty is unfair" to American allies in the region and to U.S. and British troops massing on the Iraqi border. While war opponents and even some proponents considered the argument offensive, it found traction here. The young troops who would be first into Iraq from the south are training to achieve peak physical and mental condition in the first few weeks of March. "We're building them up to the point where they are emotionally ready to kill," says Marine Lieut. Colonel Bryan P. McCoy. Let a 19-year-old sit around for too long, commanders say, and he will start to think about what killing means. Military leaders want to avoid that, calculating that it would be as debilitating as the temperature that creeps up with each passing day.

When news of antiwar protests filters through over shortwave radios and in letters from home, the young servicemen are puzzled and angry. Reporters visiting camps are assailed with questions about the latest moves at the U.N. and in Washington. Mostly the troops say simply that they have a job to do and will follow orders. Some flash peace signs, but others are hurt by the protests. "We've started to call this whole thing Operation Desert Justice. As in 'just us,'" says Lieut. Commander Pat Garin of the U.S. Navy Seabees, the marine construction force. Sitting in an LAV waiting for a live-fire training exercise, gunner Lance Corporal Jerry Hymas, 20, ponders the antiwar marchers: "What they don't realize is that men who did this before, who fought, gave them the right to protest."

Meanwhile, war preparations continue. Northern Kuwait is now home to the largest store of aviation ordnance since Vietnam, according to Major General Jim Amos of the 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing. On the side of a small sand hill last week, groups of Marines rotated through a variety of short, open-air classes. In one, they got a look at the Dragon Eye, a small aerial drone that feeds live battlefield images to commanders and that will make its debut in Iraq if the U.S. invades. In another course, Marines learned how to treat surrendering Iraqi soldiers. Sergeant Mo al Qrsh taught basic Arabic phrases that the Marines may need: stop, go, hands up, stand, sit, yes, no, food, water, do not move, drop your weapon. "How do you tell them to shut the f___ up?" asked a Marine. Al Qrsh offered the Arabic for "be quiet." After more wisecracks, a young voice inquired in the dying light: "How do you tell them, 'You're safe now'?" --With reporting by Alex Perry/south of the Iraqi border

With reporting by Alex Perry/south of the Iraqi border