Waiting for Fallujah

CAMP ABU GHRAIB, IRAQ -- I'm currently embedded with the Third Battalion, First Regiment Marines -- or the "Thundering Third" as they like to be known -- waiting for the long-rumored offensive to retake the stubborn, insurgent-held city of Fallujah -- prior to Iraq's January elections. It's widely accepted in Iraq and within the U.S. State Department and the United Nations that Fallujah must somehow participae in the upcoming vote or else the process will seem illegitimate and further disenfranchise both moderate and militant Sunnis from the new Iraqi government.

I'm currently embedded with the Third Battalion, First Regiment Marines -- or the "Thundering Third" as they like to be known -- waiting for the long-rumored offensive to retake the stubborn, insurgent-held city of Fallujah -- prior to

Iraq's January elections. It's widely accepted in Iraq and within the U.S. State Department and the

United Nations that Fallujah must somehow participae in the upcoming vote or else the process will seem illegitimate and further disenfranchise both moderate and militant Sunnis from the new Iraqi government.

(Smoke and lolly: boys to men /Photo by Kevin Sites)

But the Marines here see it in simpler terms. They've got a job to do and when they get the word they'll gladly clear Fallujah of insurgents, foreign fighters, whoever gets in their way. With all the casualties they've suffered from roadside bombs and nightly mortar and rocket attacks, they're highly motivated. Before a recent mission there is a lot of swagger and bravado as they gear up.

"Hope Haji comes out to play tonight," is the common sentiment.

(Before the mission: Marines from Lima Company, 2nd Platoon, 2nd Squad have a circumspect moment or maybe just a micro-nap behind their wraparound shades prior to heading out on a mission / Photo by Kevin Sites)

Like the bulk of the military, aside from officers and non-coms, they're kids really -- 18, 19, 20 years old. They switch from playing imaginary war games on an

Xbox in the base rec rooms to fighting in a real war. They flip from astounding maturity -- trusting each other with their lives, forming brotherly bonds -- to head-shaking juvenile antics -- belittling each other's manhood, intelligence, haircuts or whatever presents itself as an appropriate weakness.

The Marines here handle their deadly arsenal of personal and squad weapons like they were additional appendages, loading and clearing them with the casual precision of having done it thousands of times.

(Rolling out: Marines from Lima Company, 2nd Platoon, 2nd Squad ride in amphibious vehicles on their way to work near Fallujah. Photo by Kevin Sites)

Camp

Abu Ghraib is a well fortified, but livable, dusty bowl. There is power (from generators) and running water (in shower trailers) but both are sporadic. Marines coming back from hot and dirty missions may have to go without a shower, cleaning up with baby wipes or bottled water. The Marines live in cinder block buildings, retrofitted with window air-conditioning units and bunk beds. They bunk anywhere from six to 10 in each room, usually by squad or team -- cooks in one hootch, snipers in another. Every door has a black stencil of a snorting bull, the Battalion mascot, with "Complacency Kills" in red letters underneath.

There is a chow hall that serves pre-prepared meals; the camp is too small (under 1,000) to qualify for the civilian food operation usually provided by Halliburton subsidiary Kellogg, Brown & Root Services (KBR). There is an Internet cafe and phone center where Marines can keep in touch with loved ones or surf dating sites like "Hot or Not."

I've also discovered that almost any base, no matter how close to the front lines, will have a well-stocked weight room where Marines and soldiers can burn off the frustrations of their protracted deployments in hostile territory. Most bases also have what Marines and soldiers call a "Haji shop," a little store run by Iraqis that sells local souvenirs like rugs, regime military medals or money, sandals, potato chips and pirated DVDs.

While they wait, Marines talk and smoke, but most of all they dip. The most common sound around Camp Abu Ghraib, next to a weapon being cleared or an incoming rocket (usually one per day), is the sound of a can of tobacco being tapped loose for the next pinch. Empty water bottles seem to be standard issued for Marines working inside and are used as cheap and handy spittoons.

(My Hootch: Gunney Ed Payne of the 3.1 got me set up in my own version of the Four Seasons here at Camp Abu Ghraib -- a private, two-person hootch converted from a bathroom. At the moment, I don't have to share it with anyone so I can hang my laundry to dry and spread out my gear. My live shot location is just outside. Photo by Kevin Sites)

Despite a history of sacrifice for the nation, the Marines are the red-headed stepchildren of the

Pentagon when it comes to the budget process. With only 150,000 active duty Marines in the whole Corps, they get "hand-me-down" everything, or nothing at all. While almost all the combat Army units in Iraq have been issued the shorter-barreled M-4 assault rifle (better for urban warfare, easier to wield getting in and out of Humvees) and night vision goggles, the Marines are still mostly carrying M-16s and are lucky to have one set of night vision specs per squad.

But the Marines do have their own distinctive uniforms: a computer-generated, khaki-checkered camouflage pattern that appears to operate on the same principle as those pop art pointillism posters where Marilyn Monroe or a space shuttle is hidden inside a field of tiny dots. If you look hard enough, you might be able to see the Marine.

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