For Dean's brigade, an 'Iowa storm' watch

But don't expect complaints from these campers.

"No one came up here for luxurious quarters," said Steve Cann, 33, a laid-off electrician from St. Louis, as he rested on a top bunk after a long day of knocking on doors. "We're here to make a difference."

They came to Iowa for Howard Dean, the former Vermont governor who has inspired so many from across the country with his populist campaign for the Democratic presidential nomination. Their performance in the next two days could be the deciding factor in who emerges as victorious in tomorrow's Iowa caucuses, since the tight race puts a premium on organizational muscle.

At the same time, the deluge of outsiders could alienate some caucusgoers, who are used to making up their minds without the aid of so many true believers from around the nation.

As the contest draws closer, this Camp Dean and about a dozen others around the state -- winterized Girl Scout camps and religious retreats rented by the Dean campaign -- will hold many of the 3,500 out-of-state volunteers the campaign expects to come to Iowa on Dean's behalf.

Caucus-goers have never seen anything like this fiercely devoted, camaraderie-heavy gang that is crisscrossing Iowa wearing fluorescent orange winter hats. Dean aides have dubbed it the "Iowa storm," and no previous campaign has brought in this many out-of-state supporters for this long a period, party officials say. Some volunteers camped out in Iowa for three weeks or more.

"I don't really think there is a parallel to what's gone on before," said Gordon Fischer, chairman of the Iowa Democratic Party, who adds that he is neutral in the race.

But key questions linger as Dean battles for supremacy in Iowa. Will Internet-stoked fervor mean anything in the agricultural state? Will the final wave of out-of-state volunteers -- the Dean campaign expects 2,000 alone in the final days of the campaign -- actually show up in the numbers the campaign is counting on?

And can the army of Dean volunteers, many of whom are working on their first presidential campaign, be an effective counter to the well-honed organization efforts of labor unions, where rival Richard A. Gephardt has the biggest share of support?

"I'll put our operation up in Iowa against anyone's," said Steve Murphy, campaign manager for Gephardt, the Missouri representative who won the Iowa caucuses in 1988. Gephardt is counting on more than 1,500 out-of-state volunteers as the campaign wraps up, many from union ranks, and mostly from Missouri.

"This supposed Howard Dean juggernaut is not what it appears to be," Murphy added. "The `perfect storm' turns out to be a perfect drizzle."

Ground organization is particularly important in Iowa, where no simple vote is tallied to register support. Rather, caucus-goers wrangle and negotiate with their neighbors for a few hours on a cold evening, putting a premium on dedicated supporters who show up and are willing to stick it out.

Dean has secured significant labor support as well, most notably from the Service Employees International Union and the American Federation of State, County, and Municipal Employees. Those unions are providing manpower for the caucuses on Dean's behalf.

But many crucial organizing tasks -- door-to-door vote canvassing, phone-banking, and logistical support like organizing rides to caucus sites for senior citizens -- have fallen to untested volunteers from outside Iowa.

It has rubbed some in Iowa the wrong way. Some caucus-goers say they are sick of having their mailboxes overflow with pro-Dean letters from residents of other states, and wish the "Deaniacs" from around the country would stay out of Iowa.

"I think it's terrible," said Jim Moores, 74, a United Methodist minister from Sioux City who is supporting Gephardt. "We need to handle our own situation in Iowa. It may be provincial, but it's our caucus, and we know what's best for us. They're all going to have their chance at this in their own states."

The swarm of out-of-state volunteers contributed to controversy recently on the campaign trail. Murphy, Gephardt's campaign manager, accused the Dean campaign of preparing volunteers to actually participate in caucuses, something that would be relatively easy because of loose residency requirements. The Dean camp has denied that allegation and says its volunteers sign pledges stating that they will not try to pose as Iowans on caucus night.

Dean aides say they are not concerned about their reliance on political neophytes as volunteers, and note that their out-of-state volunteer operation is only one piece of a coordinated campaign to get voters to go to their caucuses on Dean's behalf. The kind of work volunteers will be entrusted with on caucus night -- baby-sitting services, holding signs around the state, and running shuttles to pick up elderly residents and those with disabilities -- is labor-intensive but can be performed with little experience, said Christy Setzer, a campaign spokeswoman.

"A lot of it is not rocket science," Setzer said. "It's just a matter of bringing a lot of bodies."

But the campaign has clearly made the use of out-of-state volunteers a priority. The campaign recently rented an additional building in downtown Des Moines, the former site of Senator Bob Graham's Iowa campaign headquarters, just to handle volunteer operations. A press secretary was hired specifically to handle media inquiries about the "Iowa storm" program.

Volunteers sign up for duty over the Internet and come to Des Moines or other spots in Iowa at their expense. A group of 180 Texans swung by Oklahoma on two buses on their way to the Hawkeye State, and about 150 volunteers from Philadelphia stopped first in Columbus, Ohio, to pick up 19 more. The campaign says it has volunteers in Iowa from all 50 states, and four expatriates who now live in Japan are expected.

They stream in to campaign headquarters with airport luggage tags still attached. Volunteers get 15-minute crash courses in how to canvass door to door -- don't go near loose dogs, don't get into arguments, and write everything down -- and they are assigned to towns they have never heard of to spread the Dean gospel in groups of four. Besides the orange hats, they get bags of Cheetos, granola bars, and bottled water.

"This is a real movement. It's coming from the bottom up," said Dan Ortiz, a 31-year-old graduate student who flew in from San Diego and immediately was sent to knock on doors in Altoona. "How can this not be exciting?"

Volunteers are trained to tell their own stories, not discuss the intricacies of policy positions. It is easy for many of them; they put their lives on hold to spend time in Iowa and they are passionate about their candidate.

"I'm really upset by the Bush team, and I needed to feel I could do something about it," said Bill Endicott, 58, of Bethesda, Md., He was an aide in the political office of the Clinton White House and coached the 1992 US Olympic kayaking team, but he, too, is living at Camp Dean in Indianola, about 20 miles south of Des Moines. "I've got to earn my spurs," he said.

The testimony can be convincing. The Dean volunteers are not expected to convert huge numbers of Iowans, but some residents say it means something to them to see the range of supporters Dean has attracted.

"He really has a groundswell of support," said Linda Blatt, an English professor at Central College who attended a Dean rally in Pella.

Rick Klein can be reached at rklein@globe.com.