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ADVANCING
TROOPS TO GET A PIECE OF REPUBLICAN GUARD
By JONATHAN FOREMAN in Iraq
March 23, 2003
Heading north toward the Euphrates river on a bombed-out Iraqi blacktop, this dark, rumbling line in the sand stretches for miles in each direction.
The 54th Engineers Battalion has been tearing through the desert since Friday, and the guys are bushed. This could be one of the first units to confront Saddam's Republican Guard, but no one's talking about that. There's no sign of the Iraqi army - yet.
Moving at a steady 30 mph with hardly a moment to catch their breath, the troops in this line of armored personnel carriers has been cruising for more than 24 hours.
Two hundred miles into Iraq, and suddenly the bumpy desert ride has turned smooth. They're on a blacktop highway now, a road still dotted with the hulking remnants of burned-out vehicles from Gulf One - the last war.
The boys
have their night-vision goggles on and haven't had a hot meal for days.
"Saddam's pulled back all his troops," says one exhausted engineer. "There's no resistance here."
They are desperate for news. What's the level of support for the war at home? What's happening up ahead? Who's keeping score?
It's a huge convoy, hundreds of vehicles. Dozens of breakdowns along the way, vehicles lost to the desert.
As the sun goes down, the desert turns suddenly cold.
The men's faces have turned green and yellow from a combination of claustrophobia, constant movement and lack of sleep.
The vanguard of the massive attack on Saddam's troops to the north, these engineers have now seen their first Iraqi dead. It is a pickup truck with two, maybe three bodies in it. Civilians. There is blood on the windscreen.
Nobody asks what's happened here, and they drive on.
There are four combat engineers and one reporter in this particular carrier, outfitted with an automatic grenade launcher and a plethora of armaments. The sand has taken its toll, and they pass broken-down bulldozers and trucks.
The unit specializes in river crossings, for which they are carrying an assortment of gargantuan pontoons and amphibian gear destined for the pivotal Euphrates crossing, a maneuver expected to take place at the end of this endless weekend.
"Monday, Monday," somebody says. They do not stop to take a leak. For that, they have bottles handy. You move, you don't stop.
"Keep on going," says Scott Kreike, 25, of Washington state.
Since they crossed the border on Friday morning, there's been no let-up. Morale is good, but this still feels like an exercise: They have yet to see the enemy.
They've heard Basra is being taken, and that's a good thing. They've heard Iraqi claims that there's been "no deep penetration" by allied forces, and that's a laugh.
It's a reduced world without regular intelligence briefings, and the men are desperate for a bird's-eye view of the war. But that will have to wait.
So will a good meal.
"We're eating MREs, but there's no time to cook," says Kevin Hallstrom, 25, of Albuquerque, N.M. "Can't make coffee, 'cause there's no hot water." Hallstrom hasn't slept properly for days.
"Maybe a couple hours since Friday," he says. "Maybe I can grab 20 minutes down the line."