U.S. troops face danger: 'Really, nowhere is safe right now'

COLT BASE, near Brvnik, Bosnia-Herzegovina - The countryside surrounding this U.S. Army encampment looks deceptively like central Ohio farmland.

Snow blankets rows of dead corn stalks in the fields. Farmhouses dot the flat horizon. To the northwest, a rural road leads to a nearby village.

But danger signs are everywhere for the 150 men of the 4th battalion of the 67th Armor. Most of the farmhouses have been bombed. All the village houses are riddled with bullets and shrapnel marks - mementos of a firefight between Bosnian Croats and Bosnian Serbs who fought over this ground until only a few months ago. A destroyed Yugoslav army tank sits off a street in the village. Closer to the base, a nearby slaughterhouse is nothing but a series of empty, roofless shells.

Signs posted in the fields warn of land mines. A U.N. pamphlet handed out to soldiers lists 14 types of mines in Bosnia. As many as 6 million mines may have been buried in the country during almost four years of war.

"A lot of buildings were marked for mines around here," says Lt. Matt Smith, 24, of Atlanta, Ga. "We're not sure which ones actually have mines and which don't. So the engineers really are important for us because, right now, we can't walk in the fields . . . Really nowhere is safe right now."

Welcome to the dangerous, monotonous and cold world of U.S. grunts on "Operation Joint Endeavor." This unit is one small component of a force made up of 24,000 U.S. troops, the largest active U.S. mission on European soil in four decades. The U.S. armed forces, along with NATO allies, are enforcing a 600-mile Zone of Separation (ZOS), keeping the warring Bosnian factions separated as part of the Dayton peace accord. The troops are set to be in Bosnia for about a year, according to public statements by Clinton administration officials.

Colt base - about 7 miles south of the Sava River, Bosnia's northern border with Croatia - is an integral part of U.S. operations in northeast Bosnia. A web of American bases is developing along Bosnian roadways, many renamed by the army in the Wizard of Oz motif: Tinman Alley, Lion, Yellow Brick Road, Good Witch.

But the 4-67 doesn't get out much. Most troops are now restricted to base, an asphalt, crop-dusting airstrip where they have set up tents and lined up their Bradley fighting vehicles into a defensive perimeter. Concertina wire surrounds the area. It's circling the wagons, 1990s-style.

The soldiers are on high alert and must wear their bulky combat gear at all times.

One cold winter morning, Lt. Phillip Cosby, 40, of Madison, Ind., stands up from his cot. He puts on a shirt, camouflage jacket, flak vest and web belt with equipment. He straps a holstered pistol to his chest, then puts on a helmet.

"All this," he says. "Just to go to the bathroom."

At night, guards at the base use night vision goggles, called "nods," to detect Serb and Croat soldiers scanning the area with infra-red rifle scopes.

"They are out there, checking to see what we're up to," says Spec. Kyle Sperling, 22, of Grand Rapids, Mich.

The soldiers hope everything stays peaceful, but all of their preparations have been for war. The result is a limbo of waiting for something they don't want to happen.

The 4-67, nicknamed the "bandits" of the first Armored Division, are well-equipped if something does. The Bradley fighting vehicles, armed with 25mm chain guns and an automatic cannon, are manned and waiting for attack from any direction. Mechanized 4.2-inch mortars are positioned and linked by computer to direct fire and approaching enemy. Guards stand duty around the clock, armed with automatic rifles. Once the base is established and the area swept for mines, heavier equipment is set to show up, including tanks and mechanized howitzers that can shoot 20 miles.

"It's pretty intimidating," says Sgt. Steve Shoots, 30, of Bellefontaine, Ohio. "I don't think anyone will try anything with us.

Sgt. Shoots, in charge of coordinating the mortar fire in battle, is on his first active deployment in 13 years with the army. He feels confident he can do a good job and isn't worried about his safety. He knew this deployment was coming. They all did. They normally train about three months out of the year in Germany. Last year, they trained seven.

His chief concern is his wife, five months pregnant with their third child, back in Germany.

"She's pretty shook up," he says. "It's the unknown, that's what she worries about. I've done everything I can do to calm her down. She misses me. She cried and the kids cried when I left."

Sgt. Shoots and many other soldiers at Colt base worry about whether the American public supports the operation to enforce a peace in a war that has cost more than 200,000 Bosnian lives in four years.

"We read the papers like everyone else," Sgt. Shoots says. "We know it's not that popular back home. But I tried to explain it to my kids this way. There are kids here (in Bosnia) who don't have any schools, or houses. They've been through a terrible war, and we have to help them start trusting people again."

Another Ohioan, Spec. Jason Martin, 22, of Massillon, a Humvee scout, says he worries about land mines and he doesn't understand all the politics, but "it's good we are here doing something to keep the peace."

A young soldier, Spec. Martin says he can handle the cold but he finds himself tired all the time.

Older soldiers at Colt have grown tired of military life. Lt. Cosby wants to go back to the United States after this tour in Bosnia. "I've been doing this for 16 years, and I've had enough," he says.

For soldiers at Colt, life is a battle against worry, homesickness and monotony.

As has been the case for centuries, soldiers long for mail from home. Letters from wives, girlfriends, parents, friends or strangers are highly prized and usually read aloud to comrades as enclosed photographs are passed around. Care packages full of candy and cookies have started to arrive, as the mail service improves.

But modern technology has also arrived at Colt base. With a telephone credit card, soldiers can make calls to Germany or the United States from handset phones connected to U.S. military satellites. The calls are expensive, especially on military pay, so they often have to be brief.

Several soldiers snuck televisions, VCRs and CD players onto the base. In a several tents, soldiers can watch Die Hard and other action films or listen to Coolio or Southern Gospel. The electronic equipment is hooked up to noisy diesel generators.

Soldiers also spend free time playing "spades," a popular army card game that involves joking and insulting whomever they play with as loudly as possible.

For security reasons, the soldiers are not allowed to fraternize with any Bosnians, except for a handful of interpreters and construction workers. As a result, the troops feel even more isolated.

Days don't really begin at Colt base; they never really end. And they are full of mundane tasks: working trash detail, digging latrines, unloading equipment, training and cleaning. Occasionally, soldiers get to sleep. But the base is now short of soldiers, so everyone has to takes multiple tours guarding the perimeter. Unlucky soldiers draw night shifts standing in sub-zero temperatures.

Soldiers eat two warm meals a day, soggy sausage or hot dog chunks (no one can really tell) mixed into huge vats of eggs. Evening food is a mix of mushy food. The favorite is lasagna.

In the mess tent, soldiers stand over tables made of oil drums and pour Tabasco sauce on their meals.

"Hot sauce is the only thing that saves the food around here," says Lt. Cosby.

In between main courses, soldiers eat MREs, meals ready-to-eat in thick brown plastic bags. The bags contain meals plus a heating device in clear plastic to warm up the food.

American-style bathing, with steamy hot showers, is unknown here. The construction crews are working on setting up showers, but for now, soldiers heat water on a diesel stove, then go to a secluded tent to wash and shave as best they can.

Temporary latrines - rustic wooden sheds built over shallow pits - have been set up at each end of the base. Engineers hope to set up something less rudimentary when the weather warms up and they finish sweeping fields and nearby buildings for mines.

The hope is to move eventually into the slaughterhouse buildings, rumored among the troops to have been a Bosnian Serb concentration camp. More troops are expected to arrive soon and they will need much more living space than the tents on the airstrip have to offer.

They also would like to see the sun more often. They have seen clear skies for only a few days since their arrival in late January. The weather is cold and damp.

The soldiers have heavy sleeping bags made for arctic conditions, and each tent has sooty diesel stoves. But outside, soldiers wear layers of thermal clothes to stay warm.

In the medic tent, the biggest problems being treated are rashes caused by lack of showers and the chafing of heavy clothing. Frostbite also is a constant danger.

When the warm weather does arrive, things aren't supposed to get much better for the 4-67. Rains are supposed to make the roads impassably muddy and bring swarms of mosquitoes.

They try to keep a sense of humor about their dreary mission.

"It's like a one-year prison term for a first offense," laughs Sgt. Joel Kelly, 26, from the Chicago area.

Published March 10, 1996