A Plague on the Nation

FORWARD OPERATING BASE FALCON, Iraq -- A handful of Delta Company soldiers leaned against a barracks wall the other night, smoking. The subject of conversation: what limb they would rather part with, if they had a choice. On the door of a portable toilet a few feet away, someone was keeping the company death toll amid a scribble of obscenities: five KIA.

 

''When I first got here, I felt like I could actually do some good for the Iraqi people,'' Sgt. 1st Class Joseph Barker said. But the last six months had hardened him, he said. ``We're not going to change the Iraqis. I don't care how many halal [Muslim] meals we give out.''

 

Of the 160,000 U.S. troops now in Iraq, some have been deployed to the country for the first time. Others are returning for their second or third tour of duty. Those returning find a country that has become even more dangerous. Since the March 2003 U.S.-led invasion, roadside bomb attacks against Iraqis and Americans have risen, as have civilian and military casualties.

 

In conversations with troops in Baghdad, Mosul and Tikrit during the past four weeks, morale seemed a fragile thing, especially among those in the line of fire.

 

 

Many expressed pride in their mission, and the hope that the political process would destroy the insurgency. But others described a seemingly never-ending fight against an invisible enemy, and the toll of seeing friends die.

 

''Morale is a roller coaster,'' said Lt. Rusten Currie, who has spent 10 months in Iraq. ``We were all idealistic to begin with, wanting to find Osama bin Laden and [Abu Musab al] Zarqawi, and bring them to justice -- whatever that means. Now we just want to go home.''

 

Maj. Gen. Rick Lynch, a spokesman for Multinational Force Iraq, says tensions are understandable when troops are attacked with remotely detonated explosives and there's no way to fight back.

 

''Soldiers can indeed get frustrated because they're not looking at an enemy who's looking back at them,'' Lynch said. But he added that ``morale is generally good.''

Barker remembers the day -- it was Sept. 15, a Thursday -- that changed how he felt about Iraq. Afterward, the mission no longer made sense. ''It's the most helpless feeling I have ever felt,'' said Barker, of the 1st Battalion, 184th Infantry Regiment, who lost his friend and second-in-command, Sgt. Alfredo Silva, to a roadside bomb that day.

 

After that day, the explosions never seemed to stop. In Delta Company, morale plummeted after four men were killed in nine days, Barker said.

 

''We were the walking dead,'' he said, speaking of the days after the attack. ``It was no longer a matter of making it home alive and in one piece. Just alive would be fine.''

In the mess hall at Forward Operating Base Falcon, just south of Baghdad, soldiers on crutches precariously balanced food trays and sodas as they hobbled among the rows of tables. Many have struck explosives repeatedly after they arrived at Falcon earlier this year. The medics call them ``frequent fliers.''

 

''One of my buddies, he's also a gunner,'' said Spec. Evan Bozajian, 23. ``In the beginning, he was really gung-ho. Not anymore. Some of the guys, they hate it. They don't want to do this anymore.''

 

 

Bozajian, however, still thinks he's doing something worthwhile.

 

''Back home, there are a lot of issues about why we're here -- if it's because of the oil,'' he said. ``I don't even care about that.''

 

Bozajian has already been hit three times, the last time in August. Two and a half months later, he still hasn't recovered. Despite the crutches, walking is painful.

 

''This whole war is like a modern-day Vietnam,'' said Spec. Jose Navarette. ``You see more people dying every day -- that makes you wonder if it's worthwhile.''

 

After 10 months in the northern city of Mosul, Capt. Mick Mineni of the 11th Armored Cavalry Regiment says he thinks it is. In Mosul, he worked with Iraqi election officials.

 

''We've accomplished something,'' he said, after October's referendum. ``That feels good.''