Grim News on Front Line of Fear : Gulf crisis: Civilians and soldiers alike follow the Baker-Aziz meeting. Afterward, in areas where Iraq might strike quickly with chemical weapons, tension is evident.

In the cities that petroleum built on the edge of the desert here, the Geneva meeting between Secretary of State James A. Baker III and Iraqi Foreign Minister Tarik Aziz was the focus of attention--and tension--Wednesday.

When Baker announced that the Iraqi foreign minister had shown no flexibility in his nation’s refusal to withdraw from Kuwait, there was a sense that all chances of a peaceful solution to the crisis had vanished. The apprehension was evident among the remaining residents of one city, which has become all but a ghost town.

A Pakistani bellhop stood in stunned silence, hands at his sides, as he watched Baker’s press conference in a hotel located within easy reach of Iraqi missiles.

At a car rental agency, the nervous Saudi owner forced a smile when asking visiting Americans if they were going to “stay here with us” past the Jan. 15 deadline.

If war does come on or near that date, it will be here, in the region hard by the Persian Gulf, where thousands of U.S. troops have dug in to force Iraqi President Saddam Hussein’s hand, that a chemical or biological attack may be played out--a horrifying prospect for citizen and soldier alike.

As the Baker-Aziz talks dragged on through the day, knots of Saudi citizens and immigrants from Pakistan, India and the Philippines, who provide the bulk of the labor force here, gathered around television sets in homes, hotels and grocery stores to follow their progress.

“We all listened to the radio (Wednesday), me and my colleagues here at work,” said Mateo Villamor, 27, a hotel employee from Quezon City in the Phillipines. “Maybe there still is a chance and nothing will happen. Maybe Mr. Baker has another peace plan.”

At a heavily guarded U.S. military compound, where cars are searched for bombs before entering and nervous sentries wear flak jackets, Marines followed the talks by radio and portable television.

For other American troops stationed in remote desert outposts, where news often arrives late, there was little to do but wait and pray that the devastating military conflict that Baker has warned of can be avoided.

For 21-year-old Marine Lance Cpl. Albert Lopez, a La Palma resident and specialist in repairing Cobra attack helicopters, some solace was found in the words of his father, a Marine veteran who served in Lebanon in the 1950s.

“He said watch myself, keep my head down, and stay with my friends,” said Lopez, who arrived in Saudi Arabia to join the force of 30,000 soldiers from Tustin, El Toro and Camp Pendleton just hours before Baker met with the Iraqi foreign minister.

The threat that Iraq might unleash its chemical or biological weapons is the single greatest concern of the American soldier deployed in the gulf. They have been trained, and are equipped, to survive such an attack, but few look on what is called their NBC (nuclear, biological and chemical) gear with complete confidence.

The protective suits are bulky and hot, and the gas masks, which are carried in an olive-green waist pouch at all times, are cumbersome and difficult to fit over the face and head quickly. Early warning of an impending attack is essential for survival, and there is no guarantee of that.

Anticipating the worst, all U.S. troops are outfitted with a DCON (decontamination) kit. Using the kit, a soldier dabs a colleague’s exposed skin with specially treated wet pads to determine if he or she has been contaminated, and an antidote kit of two thick needles is included. The long, heavy syringes must be thrust into the upper thigh, hard enough to pierce the military’s durable camouflage fatigues, and held there for 10 seconds to treat symptoms from exposure to nerve gas.

Reporters visiting eastern Saudi Arabia also must carry the NBC gear, DCON packs and antidote kits, but U.S. officials say if it comes to that, it may be too late for many.

“If you ever get to the point of needing your DCON kits, you’ll already be saying your prayers,” said Lt. Col. Michael Moran, a Marine reservist from Camp Pendleton.