Tuesday, March 6, 2001

Story and photos by Jon R. Anderson
Stars and Stripes

Maj. Brian Long

ON THE KUWAIT-IRAQ BORDER — It’s not every Marine that can say he lives in Iraq. But then again, it’s not every Marine that also has to regularly call in violations of United Nations’ rules committed by his own country.

Such is the lot of Maj. Brian Long and the 10 other U.S. military officers assigned to the U.N. Iraq-Kuwait Observer Mission.

Ten years ago, Long helped liberate Kuwait as an infantry platoon leader on the tip of the Marine Corps’ drive into Kuwait City. Just after the war, the U.N. established a 15-kilometer demilitarized zone straddling the desert border frontier.

The rules are no military forces, equipment or aircraft — not only Iraqi and Kuwaiti, but military of any nationality — are allowed in the buffer zone.

The only exception is the 1,200-strong United Nations’ mission and even official observers such as Long go unarmed.

In fact, only a Bangladeshi infantry battalion, the mission’s designated quick-reaction force, is allowed to carry weapons.

"I never thought I’d be back here, especially doing a job like this," Long says. "I guess there’s not too many Americans who have a Iraqi residency visa in the passport these days."

Long lives in the port village of Umm Quasr, just inside the Iraqi side of the DMZ where the small U.N. headquarters camp is located.

Working on both sides of the border separating Iraq and Kuwait, United Nations observers watch over and patrol the demilitarized zone that that has been in place since Kuwait’s 1991 liberation.

When a package of low-flying F-15E Strike Eagles came roaring across the border the day U.S. and British warplanes recently raided air defense command bunkers around Baghdad, Long’s unit had to call in what has become a routine violation of the DMZ by coalition aircraft.

"Occasionally, Kuwaiti helicopters will buzz the border, but the vast majority of violations are no-fly zone aircraft going into Iraq," Long said.

"I am a U.S Army officer," says fellow observer, Maj. Tab Bryant, "but I am on loan to the United Nations. So when I see U.S. aircraft cross into the DMZ, I report it."

And that they do. In the last month alone, U.N. observers have reported 40 such crossings.

But that’s about all they can do. Without enforcement capability, the reports go up to U.N. headquarters and the violations continue daily.

The U.S. Central Command is unapologetic.

"Iraq has proved there is a need for the no-fly zone," spokesman Lt. Col. Rick Thomas said. "Iraq is a threat to its neighbors and its own citizens. So, crossing the DMZ is required to patrol the southern no-fly zone."

Tall coils of concertina wire flanked by double fence lines stretch the full 150 miles of border separating Kuwait and Iraq.

Centcom is responsible for overseeing the no-fly zone patrols from air bases in Saudi Arabia and Kuwait, as well from aircraft carriers in the Persian Gulf.

"The hardest part of this job is staying impartial," Long says. "We are here working for both the Kuwaitis and the Iraqis — and that can be a pretty big leap."

It’s a leap from the job he was here to do a decade ago. Long says it’s not hard to think of the burning oil wells left behind by the Iraqis as they retreated back into Iraq.

Now, in addition to U.N. troops, the Kuwaitis and Iraqis are separated by several layers of defensive lines, all built by Kuwait shortly after the war.

First, is a 10-foot tall sand berm that runs like a desert wall from the Persian Gulf to the Saudi Arabian border. Every few hundred yards, ramps have been built so tanks can pop up and shoot over the berm should Iraq ever try another charge south.

Next comes a ditch, cut deep and wide enough to swallow a tank, running parallel to the berm.

Another few hundred feet and two electric fences run in tandem with tall coils of razor-sharp concertina wire stretched in between. Next is another berm and another tank ditch just before the actual border.

The Kuwaiti side of the DMZ extends three miles from the border, while the Iraqi side pushes six miles.

While Iraqi officials continue to complain about U.N.-imposed sanctions, there seems to be no problem with this mission.

With an Iraqi residency visa in his passport, Marine Corps Maj. Brian Long is one of the few Americans in the world who can say he lives in that country.

"Ironically, some of the nicest people I’ve met here have been Iraqis," Long says. In fact, the U.N. headquarters employs many Iraqis in mostly clerical jobs.

"This job is pretty bizarre, to say the least," says Army Maj. Dave Abbinanti. A military policeman for the mission, Abbinanti patrols both sides of the border routinely and lives with Long on the Iraqi side.

The other day, Abbinanti had to brief an Iraqi major on a traffic accident that happened inside the DMZ. "He knew exactly who I was," says Abbinanti, patting the U.S. flag on his right shoulder, "but he was fine, very professional. We were both just doing our jobs."

While the job may be on the surreal side, it can also have its rewards.

With decent medical care hard to find in Iraq, local Iraqis often come to the more than a dozen U.N. outposts scattered along the DMZ for help.

Up until two years ago, U.S. and British troops helped man the remote outposts, called Patrol and Observation Bases. When the two countries launched three days of air strikes in what became known as Operation Desert Fox, however, the observers were pulled off the Iraqi side of the border.

"The Iraqis said they could no longer guarantee their safety," said Abbinanti, "so of the 32 nations contributing observers to the mission, the U.S. and Britain are the only two who don’t put people in POBs on that side of the border."

Bryant works at one of the Kuwait-side POBs, called simply N-9, a mini compound surrounded by thick bomb-proof walls with a tall observation tower rising over the white trailers that serve as both living and work spaces.

Six other observers live at N-9, one of the eastern-most POBs with a view of the Persian Gulf not far away.

"We run two three-hour patrols every day," Bryant said. "One during the day, one at night."

Mostly the work is pretty routine, he says, with boredom being the biggest enemy.

Long says the hardest part for him has been being away from the Marine Corps. "You lose your war-fighting edge in a mission like this," he says.

But on the other hand, he adds, maybe he’s helping prevent another war.

"I am convinced there would be no chance for peace without us here. This is a very tense border," Long says. "Even the most minor violation is a major incident. So we help diffuse that. And that’s not a bad thing to be a part of."

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