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NewsMarch 31, 2003

CENTRAL IRAQ -- The men of the 3rd Battalion, 7th Marines grow more frustrated by the day. Many wait longingly for word of a potential combat mission, something to make them feel useful. They've been trained to lead the charge in battle, to be on the front lines -- not wait idly on the sidelines. But these Marines have spent the past week mostly driving and patrolling peaceful farming areas in central Iraq as they hear occasional news of other U.S. forces in combat...

By Ravi Nessman, The Associated Press

CENTRAL IRAQ -- The men of the 3rd Battalion, 7th Marines grow more frustrated by the day. Many wait longingly for word of a potential combat mission, something to make them feel useful.

They've been trained to lead the charge in battle, to be on the front lines -- not wait idly on the sidelines. But these Marines have spent the past week mostly driving and patrolling peaceful farming areas in central Iraq as they hear occasional news of other U.S. forces in combat.

"I'm ready to get out of here," said Sgt. Paul Coughlin, 21, of Boston, glancing around the dry, cracked mud of the area where he'd been sleeping for the last four days.

Their irritation became nearly unbearable Sunday afternoon.

First, they were told to pack up and prepare to move north. Several units were on the road when an order came over the radio for them to go back. The mission had been canceled.

Then, they were told to move out again. They spent two hours in vehicles in formation on the side of the road waiting, only to be told the mission had been canceled -- again -- and that they should go back to their original position and get some sleep.

When the U.S. invasion began 11 days ago, the 3rd Battalion was near the lead. But after two days of minor skirmishes in the southern town of Zubayr, things got very quiet very fast.

Sandstorms, traffic jams

The Marines spent five days caught in sandstorms and traffic jams on an Iraqi road. On Wednesday, Iraqi mortars fell far in the distance and some vehicles in their convoys reported being shot at by a sniper from a factory about 500 yards away.

The Marines responded by shooting at the factory with everything they had: pistols, rifles, grenade launchers and even two TOW anti-tank missiles. A search of the building the next day showed no signs a sniper was in there.

Since Thursday the Marines have encamped along the side of a road, charged with making sure it was secure for supply vehicles. Cobra attack helicopters occasionally fly by and other Marine units drive past while the 3rd Battalion waits in frustration.

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They spend their days doing crossword puzzles, reading a year-old men's magazine, cleaning themselves with sanitary wipes or napping in sleeping holes dug in the ground.

On Sunday, Gunnery Sgt. Sandor Vegh, 34, of Circleville, Ohio, gave an informal Bible lesson to some of his men and explained how Iraq was once home to the great Babylonian kingdom of Nebuchadnezzar.

But mostly, the Marines have been patrolling the sparsely populated farming area to make sure no soldiers or snipers were hiding in the countryside.

"I'm sick of probing around for stupid" people, "taking stupid potshots at people," said Sgt. Joe Wheeler, 28, of Lawrence, Mass.

Earlier Sunday, eight Marines in an open-backed Humvee drove around the bumpy countryside for more than two hours, periodically jumping out to search mainly empty crumbling houses of mud and straw.

The local farmers have become used to the searches.

When the Marines stopped at two small tents made of old burlap and ratty blankets, three farmers in robes and headscarves came out and heartily shook their hands.

Using the few words of Arabic they knew, the Marines asked if the men had guns. They said no. The Marines then searched the tents and a ratty pickup truck.

Children peered out from inside the tents, and a woman held a scarf in front of her face.

The Marines gave the family a bright yellow bag of humanitarian rations, then hopped into their vehicle and drove off to search other houses.

Lance Cpl. Francisco Valerio, 22, of Grand Canyon, Ariz., said the downtime gave him a chance to catch up on sleep. But, he added, "I just want to get this over with."

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