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SOUTHERN IRAQ
Now the false alarms are almost comforting
By David Kamerman, Globe Staff, 3/27/2003
Before the war, these drills were an amusing annoyance. Now the real thing is scary. I look out into the black night, searching for any sign of life. At first my mind races: What kind of alarm is it? Could it be nerve gas? Anthrax?
Seconds feel like minutes, as Asmus and I speculate what could have prompted the alarm. I get control of my breathing, and then reason takes hold. I am already in MOPP2 (the military's term for the level of alert that requires donning special chemical gear and clothing) with my mask on. Dressing in the rest of my suit would take a mere minute. And I am inside a vehicle, so I am relatively safe.
We listen to the radio for updates. Nothing. We wait. After what feels like 20 or 30 minutes, we are informed that it was a dead battery in a nuclear, biological, and chemical sensor that set off the alarm. Before the war started, I complained about a 2 a.m. drill at Camp Virginia in Kuwait. Today, I heard no one complain. In fact, everyone was glad it wasn't the real thing.
This story ran on page A29 of the Boston Globe on 3/27/2003.
t's 1 on Wednesday morning. I am asleep in the back of a Humvee, curled up in a ball on the tiny seat, thankful for the hour or so of sleep. A soldier raps at my door: "Wake up! Put your mask on! There is an alarm going off!" Half-asleep and still curled up in a ball, with my heart racing, I struggle to put my mask on. In the dark with no flashlight, I feel for the straps, and I pull it over my face, knowing full well that I didn't get it on within the 9 seconds the military says is necessary to be protected. By now Corporal Asmus, who was asleep in the front seat, and I are wide awake.
© Copyright 2003 Globe Newspaper Company.
