Refugees in South Iraq Fearful of U.S. Pullout : Occupation: A political vacuum is foreseen. But some residents are eager to see the GIs go.

Thousands of residents and refugees in southern Iraq are bracing uneasily for the withdrawal of U.S. troops amid growing fears that a formal cease-fire will open the way for retribution against citizens who aided uprisings against the Iraqi government.

With Shiite fundamentalist rebellions nearly quashed in communities throughout the farmlands and oil fields north of Kuwait, American soldiers expressed concern Sunday that their departure will leave residents of the U.S.-occupied region vulnerable to violent reprisals when forces loyal to Saddam Hussein reoccupy the region.

Nonetheless, some residents of this bleak oil town say they will welcome the end of what many contend has been a humiliating occupation by U.S. forces. Occupation, some say, has cut them off from far better services once rendered by their own government.

“The Americans give sweets to the kids,” said one man, “so they can get their picture taken with them. This does not constitute help. . . . They stop the truck, they throw the food, and they take pictures. . . . It’s humiliating for a father like me, an educated man, to get food from the trucks.”

The food, he added, is never enough.

Already on Sunday, dozens of trucks loaded with American tanks, armored personnel carriers and other fighting vehicles rumbled southeast toward Kuwait. Some of the most forward U.S. checkpoints, meanwhile, were reported to have begun closing down.

“There’s light at the end of the tunnel now,” said Sgt. 1st Class Mark McNamara, with the 2nd Air Cavalry Regiment. “It’s like we’ve been waiting in a big, dark hole all these months, and all of a sudden there’s somebody holding a candle at the end of it.”

With U.S. forces pulling out of Iraq to make way for a U.N. peacekeeping force, there is growing concern here that the withdrawal will leave a dangerous political vacuum throughout southern Iraq.

“I know what’s going to happen when we leave,” said Maj. Fred Saving, a civil affairs officer who has aided Iraqi civilians in the weeks since U.S. forces entered southern Iraq. “Saddam will come here, and thousands of people are going to die.”

His prediction was echoed by many among the more than 13,000 Iraqi and other foreign refugees who have fled Basra, Nasiriyah and other former rebel strongholds to take shelter in three camps near Safwan.

“If you come back here in two or three days, you will see our dead bodies. I am sure of that,” said one man.

Iraqis fleeing Basra and Nasiriyah this week reported violent reprisals from government forces in both cities.

Refugees from Nasiriyah told Army personnel that rebel patients and doctors who had treated them in a hospital had been shot to death.

In Basra, the streets were said to be littered with the bodies of hundreds of rebels and army deserters who had been executed. Sporadic rocket fire lit the night sky over Basra as recently as Saturday night, and a group of civilians who arrived at a U.S. checkpoint Sunday reported that a mustard gas-like agent had been used by government forces in Basra five days ago, a U.S. military official said.

At one of the last American checkpoints on the highway east of Nasiriyah, 3,000 people fled from Basra on Wednesday night, according to soldiers. More than 75,000 people have traversed the highway over the past 15 days, many bouncing between Basra and Nasiriyah in search of food and safety in a region where both are in short supply.

“We’ve had a lot of these people come through here with bodies strapped to the roofs of their cars,” said Pfc. Jack Castilaw at the 3rd Armored Division’s Checkpoint Charlie outside Basra. “You ask them where they’re going and they don’t know. They’re just going.”

Hundreds passing through have been critically ill or injured. Soldiers at a military treatment station tell of babies being brought in with gunshot wounds and women suffering from starvation and dehydration.

A 2-year-old died at the checkpoint earlier this week after having consumed nothing but Kool-Aid for the past two weeks, said Lt. Col. Stephen Smith, commander of the 7th Infantry Division’s 1st Battalion, which operates the medical station at Checkpoint Bravo.

“There’s a sense of frustration here,” he said. “We’ve gone as far as we’re permitted to go, but I think there’s clearly a sense among the soldiers that we’d like to do more to help these people. . . . You know, five or six weeks ago, these guys were the lead task force in an (assault force) that was killing Iraqis. Now they’re out here to help them.”

In Rumaila, on a hot, dusty Sunday afternoon, about 200 people crowded around a large U.S. Army truck as soldiers of the 3rd Infantry Division distributed boxes of milk, pineapple drink and pre-cooked meat patties.

“This is my ticket home,” said Capt. Joey Manchego, 28, of Colorado Springs as he handed out food to Iraqi women covered in traditional black abayas.

The military men had to cajole, coerce and, at times, shout down the Iraqis who surged forward, threatening to mob the Americans.

“How do you say ‘One line’ in Arabic?” said one soldier.

Rumaila is a company town of more than 500 families whose largest employer, the Iraqi Oil Co., operates Iraq’s portion of the Rumaila oil field. A dispute over oil rights to that field helped fuel Iraq’s invasion of Kuwait.

Even though hostilities have ceased, the agent of Hussein’s ruling Arab Baath Socialist Party who was coordinating food deliveries to Rumaila during and immediately after the war halted deliveries when the Americans moved in, according to townspeople.

Aid from American forces has been limited to occasional deliveries of food and medical supplies, usually from the back of trucks and in relatively small quantities, residents complained.

“The sooner the Americans leave, the better, because then our government can come back, our state can come back and provide us with food,” said Abed Badr, an oil company worker.

Residents complained that the soldiers had taught their children English words and phrases but not their meanings. Indeed, some children could readily sing the “Dogface Soldier Song.”

Among the lyrics: “I wouldn’t give a beer to be a fancy-pants Marine.”