Marines Suffer a Super Letdown

Even for a force that prides itself on being able to improvise, adapt and overcome, viewing Super Bowl XXXIX was a challenge for Marines at this desert outpost on the Syrian border.

A challenge, not an impossibility.

Plans had been for an official Super Bowl party at 2:30 a.m. local time, with the game shown on big-screen television in the new dining hall (named for a Marine who played football at Navy and was killed by a roadside bomb in September).

A descrambler for Armed Forces Network was flown in by helicopter a few hours before kickoff.

But the descrambler failed to link with the satellite, and, while Marines and soldiers at other bases in Iraq enjoyed the Fox production, Marines here at the most remote of U.S. bases were on the verge of being shut out.

More than 100 Marines made the post-midnight trek to the dining hall only to learn the disappointing news. Some refused to believe it and stared at a college basketball game in the belief that the Super Bowl would magically appear.

An officer pulled his 9-millimeter weapon from its holster. A nearby civilian thought the officer planned to shoot the TV, but instead he was only working off nervous tension by cleaning the weapon.

“I missed the entire NASCAR season this year too,” said Staff Sgt. James Madders, 26, of Ottawa, Kan.

For some, the lack of a Super Bowl connection was a bitter downer in a deployment that has been long and rough. Marines deployed outside the main camp are subjected daily to rocket and mortar attacks from insurgents; attacks are becoming more frequent and more destructive.

Earlier Sunday, a convoy taking food and toys to local villagers was ambushed as a roadside bomb exploded beneath a Humvee. Marines have a name for the region: the Wild West.

As dining hall workers from India swept and cleaned, rumors swept through the Marines. The Iraqi translators have a special television hookup in their tent; no, it’s the military police, and it’s in their guard shack.

Scouts were sent out. The rumors were negative.

Glumness set in. Then, like infantry troops forced to alter tactics in midfight, the Marines decided to switch to other communication methods.

At the “Internet bunker,” where Marines are allowed to e-mail their families, Marines tapped into a Fox Sports website giving play-by-play text messages.

“I am not going to miss this game,” said Sgt. Yuszu Chen, 25, of San Bernardino.

A crowd formed behind Chen. As the Eagles pushed toward a score, Marines leaned forward.

“This is OK, but I was sort of hoping to watch the girls at halftime,” said Lance Cpl. Christopher Bell, 20, of Casper, Wyo.

Marines huddled around other computer screens at various workstations. Those working the overnight shift in the command center kept one eye on the game, the other on any missives indicating whether insurgents were attacking.

In the communications center -- Comm Node, in Marine jargon -- Marines used NFL.com to get the Eagles’ broadcast. Visitors dropped in for updates; Marines standing watch in the icy wind got news via hand-held walkie-talkies.

“First and goal on the seven for the Pats,” announced Staff Sgt. James Tuck, 29, of Roanoke, Va. Tuck, rooting for the Eagles, said he was not going to let a little matter like being in a war zone deprive him of the Super Bowl.

“To me, the Super Bowl should be a national holiday, with Monday off to recover,” he said. “Football is my Christmas, my Easter, my holy day, even in Iraq.”

Back at the dining hall, a small group of die-hards kept waiting for the game to appear on the screen.

“What’s the good news?” said a Marine as he entered the clean, well-lighted hall.

“Well, at least they’re not shooting at us right now,” said 1st Sgt. Tony Weir, 40, of Buffalo, N.Y.