IN THE MIDDLE of a desert with nary a shrub growing from sand that hasn’t seen a raindrop in four years, small encampments of Afghan clans and tribes truck in firewood to heat their food. The massive military buildup under way in southern Afghanistan is creating a dramatic contrast between the near emptiness of the desert and the abundance of complex stuff needed to build a base for American ground troops.
       In a little more than a week, an abandoned, uncompleted compound has been transformed into a relatively comfortable nest that has electricity, separate latrines for men and women, Internet connections and a hospital. Every day, a new convenience sprouts up.
 
‘SHOOTING FOR A HYATT’
       “It looked like a Motel 6,” when the Marines first arrived, said a Chief Petty Officer named Anthony from Norristown, Pa. “Now it looks like a Ramada. We’re shooting for a Hyatt.” The renovation of the shot-up compound is one of the few operations happening here that is not considered a secret. Under new military ground rules, Marines interviewed cannot be identified by their last names because of concern about threats to their families back home. It can be reported that some light armored vehicles and platoons of “hunter-killer” teams — Humvees armed with TOW missiles, automatic grenade launchers and .50-caliber machine guns — arrived late Sunday night, but the ground rules prohibit stating how many. Reporters on the base are limited to describing its location as within striking distance of Kandahar, though the Defense Department has said it is about 55 miles southwest of the Taliban stronghold. There are few restrictions, however, on reporting the construction going on around the base. 

A Marine captain named Patricia, who is 26 and a native of Sayre, Pa., is the engineer officer in charge. When she arrived three days after the base was seized, she instructed her engineers to scrounge through whatever they found lying around and think of creative ways to use it.
       Stacks of pipes have been used to build hygiene stands for washing hands. Blankets and mattresses have been thrown over electrical cords to protect them from the weather. Odd bits of plywood have been turned into latrines, benches, tables and chairs. She commandeered one 23-kilowatt generator left behind and brought in two 30-kilowatt generators so engineers could string up lights and set up outlets for office equipment.

LEARNING FROM SOVIET MISTAKES
       “Give it another two weeks,” she said. “Every day it’s evolving. I don’t know what else we’ll come up with.”
       In what appears to have been a garage, doctors and nurses are outfitting a shock trauma room. Two tents have been erected just outside the door, one designated as an operating room and one as a sick bay. 
A Navy physician named Steven, 48, a commander who is from Portland, said he had been boning up on some of the mistakes the Soviets made during their decade-long occupation of Afghanistan. As it turns out, among their worst errors was a cavalier disregard of basic hygiene.
       They threw their trash around, attracting rats that brought lice. Soldiers relieved themselves near where they slept and ate. Even cooks didn’t always wash their hands, and spread disease through the food they prepared.
       As a result, two out of every three Soviet soldiers who served in Afghanistan ended up hospitalized with diseases like hepatitis, typhoid fever, malaria and cholera. In contrast, barely 2 percent died of battle wounds or injuries.

PREPARING FOR THE WORST 
        The Soviet experience is not expected to happen here. Hygiene trenches for washing have been dug throughout the compound. Officers routinely advise the troops to wash their hands, and everyone is already taking doxycycline tablets as a prophylactic against malaria. So many MREs, the 1,300-calorie packaged Meals Ready to Eat, have been devoured that the boxes have been filled with sand and used to build security berms inside the compound.
       Eventually, battle wounds may not be so easily averted. Steve said all of the Marines have been issued tourniquets to keep in their right hip pockets and given instructions on how to treat a collapsed lung. A Navy lieutenant commander named Tracy, 33, who is a surgeon from Camden, N.J., said her friends made one wish for her as she left for Central Asia: May you have boredom in all your days in Afghanistan.