
Fake Iraq, officially known as Wadi al Sahara, was set up by the Marine Corps in the Mojave Desert to replicate real-life battlefield conditions for training exercise Mojave Viper for 90 to 400 Marines.
They hire actors to play Iraqi villagers. An "Actors Wanted" listing on Craigslist says improv skills are helpful. Those cast in this role are warned they might spend days without showering during the 24/7 military training scenario. I phone the number and get a Hollywood casting office.
A sign in English and Arabic at a military traffic point demands we stop as two marines search a car in front of us. An interpreter wearing a kaffiyeh translates orders, while a marine with a mirror on a pole checks for explosives. "One of the most dangerous things that could happen at a checkpoint is you could be subjected to a coordinated effort by the terrorists," says my guide.
Two Arab men in a blue car speed toward the checkpoint. One leaps out and sprints toward the troops, dropping to the ground, shooting at the checkpoint. The marines return fire, suppress the gunman, but he was a diversion. A white pickup barrels through the other side of the checkpoint. The marines open fire and take out the truck before it can detonate its explosives. I practically applaud.
I've always wanted to road-trip to Iraq, but it seemed too dangerous - now I'm going to be a war correspondent in at the Marine Corps Air Ground Combat Center in 29 Palms, the Marine Corps' largest base - three-quarters the size of Rhode Island. It's marines' last stop before shipping out.
"Is it ok to park here?" I ask the marine at the visitors center, who looks 13. "Sure," he jokes. "We'll use your car for target practice!" As we get into his jeep, my guide explains Iraqi culture: "It's rude to talk with your sunglasses on." I remove mine before he makes me drop and do push-ups.
Things get surreal when we round a bluff and a police car blazoned with Arabic lettering speeds by as we reach a tin shantytown where women in burkas and men in headdresses walk by a tattered Iraqi flag and burnt-out cars with Iraqi license plates. "Everything is in play," Gunnery Sgt. Cox replies.
Fake Iraq is constructed from 375 buildings metal shipping containers stacked on top of each other. "How does it compare to real Iraq?" I ask the marine battalion leader now accompanying me, as we approach a fake Iraqi hospital. "Sometimes near dusk, if the lighting is right, I will have a moment when I actually think I'm back there. There are times when it really freaks me out."
A house search role-play is already in progress. An actor in traditional dress comes to the door of his house surprised to see a line of fully armed marines. The head of household, in robe and kaffiyeh, shakes the squadron leader's hand. There's a translator though I heard them speak English minutes earlier by the Porta-Potty.
"Ask him what's in this blue bag out here," one marine shouts. The two actors show there are no fake WMDs inside. The squadron leader goes inside and the villagers are patted down. When the rest of the marines enter the house, one actor becomes combative, putting on a performance worthy of a fake Golden Globe. I give a light golf clap in appreciation.
My guide says most fake Iraq villagers are actually real Iraqis recruited from heavily Arab-populated Dearborn, Michigan. They'd originally used Americans of other ethnicities from the casting office in LA, so I add, "Did you get Hollywood wannabes?" He nodded and I imagined the place littered with starving actors leaning against tanks, talking about their latest audition.
The four role-players, now out of character, sit outside the house smoking and drinking tea. Taking on the role of James Lipton, I conduct an interview a la Inside the Actors' Studio.
"Do you want to know how real this is?" asks an actor. "When troops go to Iraq they say, 'Wow, this is the Mojave Desert' and those who've had a tour of duty come back and say, 'It just gave me a flashback.'"
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