BAGHDAD — It had been six or seven years since Sheik Ouda Dhakir Obayd visited what are now the grounds of Camp Liberty. He peered intently out the window of the American vehicle as it bounced along the streets of what used to be the jewel of Saddam Hussein’s power.

The Sunni elder, passing through the base as the guest of an American commander returning from a meeting about electricity, could still remember the old lay of the land — the building that used to be here, the headquarters that used to be housed there — but the scene had certainly changed.

Miles of blast walls, trailers and satellite dishes marked the presence of the American military as surely as white tents and campfires might have 150 years earlier.

Asked what he thought of it all, the sheik smiled and waited, contemplating the question.

“Well,” he said, finally, “I can see that the Americans are planning to stay for 50 years.”

That, of course, remains to be seen.

But if the continued development of a handful of already massive bases like Camp Liberty seems to signal a long-term commitment, much of what the military and its contractors have built doesn’t seem likely to last a decade, let alone a half-century, and that’s by design.

A congressional mandate passed last year banned the building of “permanent structures,” which helps explain all the trailers, and points to a sort of identity crisis at the heart of the larger U.S. bases. Though many now offer amenities equal or even superior to stateside bases, they’re built for impermanence, trailer cities in the desert.

An uncertain future

The looming U.S. elections, meanwhile, provide a daily reminder that the American mission in Iraq could be radically redefined over the next year.

“Those elections make me as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs,” says Alabama National Guard Col. Brian Harris, garrison commander at Camp Taji, north of Baghdad. “We have a responsibility to take care of the troops that are here, but we don’t know what’s going to happen next year.”

Nowhere is the dichotomy as evident as at Taji. Though it now houses about 20,000 troops and 4,000 civilian contractors, Taji has not been designated as an “enduring base,” itself an intentionally vague term that gives priority for funding without saying exactly what “enduring” means.

“We have to fight for what we get,” says Capt. Billy Whigham, another Alabama guardsman who oversees Morale, Welfare and Recreation improvements at the former Iraqi base. “They’re trying not to dump too much into a base where they’re not sure where it’s going.”

Still, life at Taji is not exactly austere. The base boasts a swimming pool, three large and three smaller gyms, a full-sized basketball court, a cinema, two dining facilities and a recreation center that includes an Internet cafe, billiards room, video game room and several TV lounges. The PX is large, if often understocked, and a “bazaar” next door offers everything from tailored clothes to jewelry and rugs. Troops live in trailers or converted Iraqi barracks with heating and air-conditioning and access to hot showers, and a plan is under way to offer in-room wired and wireless Internet access at a cost of about $60 per person.

“We try to make this a tolerable place to be,” Whigham says. “We’re successful if we can provide basic services to keep people connected to home and keep them healthy.”

If shopping habits are any indication, troops at the big bases are settling in for as comfortable a stint in Iraq as possible. Ron Barfield, manager at Liberty’s PX, says electronics are the biggest seller at his 30,000-square-foot store. But again, impermanence reigns. Most of the television sets for sale are 19 inches or smaller.

“They’re looking for something small enough that they can ship it home, or something they can sell to somebody else when they leave,” Barfield says.

The flip side

But if the fifth year of the war saw an increasingly settled life for troops on the largest bases, it also saw a major push away from the so-called “Super FOBs.”

Following a counterinsurgency strategy dictating close contact between U.S. troops and the Iraqi population, many units pushed out into quickly assembled forts holding battalion-sized elements and joint security stations housing smaller units, often in old police stations or other buildings.

Though amenities are much less extensive, the outposts typically include Internet and phone service and hot meals twice a day. Shower trailers are either installed or on their way.

Largely cut off from contractors, they show the soldiers’ genius for improving their lot. Over a few dreary January days at a JSS in Iskandariyah, south of Baghdad, 1st Sgt. Brian Harman and a squad from the 2nd Battalion, 502nd Infantry built a covered exercise area and a movie theater — powered by a laptop projector and including several rows of seating — on the roof.

Many troops say they prefer life in the field.

Some combat troops, meanwhile, remain at the giant bases but spend their days patrolling surrounding areas, working outside the wire while sleeping inside more friendly confines.

Soldiers from Company A, 1st Battalion, 21st Stryker Infantry Regiment, for example, live at Camp Liberty but patrol Abu Ghraib and the countryside nearby. Members of the unit say they typically get a day off only once every two or three weeks.

“Our time [at Liberty] is for sleeping and going back to work,” says Staff Sgt. Roberto Rodriguez, 32, of Pharr, Texas. But the beds, at least, are comfortable.

“The conditions here would be pretty nice if we had time to live in them.”

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