For Scud’s Victims, No Safe Rear Area : Survivors: ‘Nobody in a thousand years thought a warhead would come right at us,’ one says.

There was no safe rear area in the Persian Gulf War, no job out of harm’s way.

Scud missiles made sure of that.

“Nobody in a thousand years thought a warhead would come right at us,” said Army Sgt. Robert Lessman, 24, of Mt. Pleasant, Pa.

But of course a Scud warhead did, in front of their eyes, and Lessman was among 100 Americans injured in the attack last Monday. Another 28 GIs were killed when the explosive warhead hit the American barracks near here.

It was the next-to-last day of the shooting war, and these victims were 200 miles from the border and maybe 300 miles from the front-line fighting.

Until this attack, Scuds were less feared in Saudi Arabia than indigenous traffic accidents. At the Dhahran International Hotel, the air raid alarm usually sent journalists and military personnel dashing outside, where they scanned the sky to try to catch sight of a Patriot missile intercepting the incoming Scud.

“It seems so ironic because everyone started to take Scuds lightly,” Lessman said from his bed at the King Fahd Military Medical Complex. Lessman suffered shrapnel wounds in his thigh, shoulder and eye. And he considers himself lucky.

“The guy right next to me was killed by a beam from the building. He was in the bunk next to me--in arm’s reach.”

Most of the 13 people who died in Lessman’s 14th Quartermaster Detachment, including two women, were on the floor playing Trivial Pursuit. Elsewhere in the barracks, a soldier was organizing a football game. Others slept.

The wounded were interviewed for the first time on the occasion of a goodwill visit to the hospital by Kuwaiti Crown Prince Saad al Abdullah al Sabah, who also sent sprays of flowers to the injured soldiers and invited them to visit Kuwait.

Specialist Bryan Thompson, 24, of Lake Providence, La., recalled the events of a week ago in nightmarish detail:

“I remember all of it just like now. We were trying to get a football game going . . . and it was about 8- or 9-ish. And one of the guys said, ‘The siren’s going off.’ And he went to the door, and everyone said, ‘Close the door.’

“And he turned and said, ‘Put your helmets on.’ Everyone stood up to go back to their bunks to get their helmets and when everyone stood up it just--you could actually see it come through the top of the roof of the building. You could see it when it came in.

“And then, all of a sudden it hit the floor. And it went KaBoom! A loud KaBoom.”

Thompson continued:

“And I was standing . . . and I felt the blood gush from my back, my side and then my chest. And when I fell, I panicked. I admit it freely. I looked at my legs and my pants were just one big balloon like, and the shrapnel and the debris was just passing through, like, my whole body.

“I sat up and said, thank God you’re alive. You’re alive, kid. And I took my hand and patted my legs . . . I was like, OK, we’re still alive. Calm down. Everyone calm down. Collect yourselves. Be able to tell them where you hurt. And the kids were screaming, screaming, yelling, screaming. And I said just calm down and tell them where you hurt.”

The emergency crews were there almost immediately.

Casualties were increased because only a day earlier GIs in the barracks had been issued ammunition. Survivors described bullets whizzing through the air in the fire that resulted from the explosion. At least one person, believed to be trying to help injured soldiers, was struck in the head by an M-16 bullet. Another soldier was hit twice in the hip.

Pfc. Anthony Drees recalled the terrifying moments after the attack. The force of the explosion and damage was enough to crush one of his legs, break the other, rip off part of his buttocks and fill him full of shrapnel. It also left the 23-year-old from Grand Forks, N.D., on the edge of control.

Drees recalled bending over his cot when the Scud landed in the warehouse that was used as a barracks. “I knew I’d been hit. I caught my breath for a second and looked up and the whole building was gone . . . I reached back and pieces of my leg were missing. My right shoe was off. I tried to chase it around and couldn’t.

“My friend next to me had both legs blown off. I put my arm across his. . . . “

Drees broke into sobs, holding his face. He composed himself with a few breaths and continued: “I put my arm across his chest and tried to crawl. I got him at least to the wall because the fire was after us. We were together since Day One of this. . . . I don’t know where he is. I can’t find him.”

The young soldier then added the lament everyone shared, “One more day and the damn war would have been over.”

This article contains information from pooled press dispatches.