Barbara Ferguson’s Last Story as an Embedded Journalist with the Marines

AT AN AIRBASE IN KUWAIT - As the sole embedded journalist remaining on this base, I alone am here to witness the winding down of a war. Here, there are no big stories, no more hard news to be had, only many thousands of men and women waiting for their commanding officers to decide if they will soon move north to assist in the rebuilding of Iraq, or go home. Almost everyone is homesick -- except those who have no families to return to and value the closeness of being "in theatre" together. 

No one is allowed off base, television is scarce, and Internet access is limited.  There isn’t much to do here except work, and like the war, that has tapered off considerably.

Hot weather has made life very difficult on the ground.  Embedded with Marines, we continue to live in tents and sleep in sleeping bags.  At least all of us now have cots, which is fortuitous, as the hot weather has brought in a new army to battle -- voracious flies and mosquitoes.  Scorpions have also appeared, and we have been notified to thoroughly check our bedrolls at night, and our boots in the morning. 

We work in tents, eat in tents and try to sleep in tents.  All difficult with the oppressive heat.  Fans and air conditioners are scarce.   Some Marines have taken to sleeping out in the bunkers, where the cement fortification offers coolness on hot nights when tents remain overheated from the day’s glaring sun.

Just less than a month ago, no one could sleep because of night bombing raids as a constant scream of jets and bombers left nightly from here.  The "ghetto," or "tent city" where Marines live, is adjacent to the flight deck. Pilots would use their thrusters for quick take off, and the force of their departures would rattle the intestines of everyone in tent city.  The
majority of planes here are Hornets, which must be the loudest planes in the sky, and are responsible for having made our sleep impossible.

Add to this the incoming missiles that - several times a night - would sent off emergency alarms.  Like Pavlov’s dogs, we became conditioned to the siren and would instantly react by struggling blindly into our MOPP gear.

Everyone here was sleep deprived - with the exception of those enviable deep sleepers who blissfully slept through it all - but no one complained. Theseare, after all, Marines.

Now our hot, heavy MOPP suits are stored under our cots.   Gas masks no longer need to be carried.  Some clever women here are now using their gas mask carriers as purses -- the ultimate in airbase chic.

The "comfort trailers," actual trailers outfitted with sinks, toilets and showers, are one of the few areas on base that are air-conditioned.  One tends to linger these days in the comfort trailers.

And, with the winding down of the war, nail-biting angst is gone from the base.  Talk here is no longer focused solely on the war, and gossip is rife.

One doctor, my "hooch" mate, or tent mate, joked that this base has become a Marine Middle East version of the soap opera: "Days of our Lives."  Gossip overheard in the comfort trailers makes "Baywatch" sound dull.

Air conditioners have been ordered, and should be installed in all the tents sometime next month.  Businessmen here certainly mujst thank their lucky stars that the Americans landed, and needed to be supplied, no matter what the price.  Recent news is that this base is to be emptied by August.  What, one wonders, will happen to this tent city that once housed thousands of Marines and soldiers. 

One shudders to think what the bottom line, cost wise, will be for all this.

The main focus here is no longer, thank God, bombing raids.  Now the emphasis is on humanitarian relief in Iraq, supplying the troops in Iraq, and attending their needs quickly.  Convoys of trucks snake up highways to camps in Iraq.  A typical trip to three camps takes four days.  Longer flights, up near Baghdad and beyond, use C-130 transport planes.  A flight from here to Baghdad takes just one hour in these big birds.

This correspondent flew to Tikrit on a C-130 last week.  It was the first flight in since the war after the air runway was repaired by the expeditionary unit, MWSG-37, whose specialty is to supply and repair.

FARPs [Forward Aviation Refueling Points], and FOBs [Forward Operating Bases], are now their primary specialty. 

The coolness of Tikrit was a welcome reprieve from the sizzle down south.  Traveling with a convoy throughout the city, townspeople welcomed the Marines and invited them to their homes for tea, or lunch.  One insistent gentleman had his children bring chairs out from their house to the sidewalk, where Marines and Tikritis sat and exchanged news, while drinking sweet Iraqi tea served by his family.

The majority of Tikritis we spoke to do not believe Saddam Hussein traveled to Syria, and the majority said if he is still alive, there’s "a sixty percent chance he is still in Baghdad."

When asked if they were afraid he would return, all said: "No."

Their biggest concern was when water and electricity return, and when they could return to their jobs.  Lt. Col. Fred Blish, who traveled with me, had the unenviable job of explaining the Marines were working as hard as they could to return these basic services, but had no timetable.

One Tikriti English teacher, Lamia Najim, summarized with dignity the Iraqis’ concerns. Walking boldly up to the armed Marines in flak jackets and helmets, she said:  "Please, Sir, can you tell us when we’ll get our water and electricity?  And when we’ll get our jobs back?  We are grateful to you for freeing us.  But we need to continue the education of our children.  And we need our jobs back so that we can support and feed our families."

Lt. Col. Blush repeated his promise to do his best to help. 

Significantly, young Marines who had traveled in the convoy had watched the exchanges between Marine officers and the Tikritis.

Upon returning to the Marine base, at Saddam’s former game preserve in Tikrit, a young Lance Corporal came up to this correspondent and asked about the Iraqis we had encountered.

"I feel bad," he then said.  "Why is that?"  I asked.  "Because they gave us their tea and sugar, and they are poor.  They might now have to go without both because of what they gave to us."

"Hospitality and generosity are primary in Arab culture," I said.

"They are good people," he said.  "I have so much to learn about them."

This is Barbara Ferguson’s last story as an embedded journalist with the Marines.
During her 2-month stay in Iraq and Kuwait she stayed at or visited 11 expeditionary camps, 3 air bases, 3 ships, and flew on C-130’s and CH-46’s and CH-53’s.

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