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Back Channels: Many U.S. soldiers now suffering.

Poison powder's damage ignored at Iraqi plant

A thick coating of orange powder was everywhere. You sat on it and slept on it. You walked through it and brushed it off your clothes. It was on the food and it was part of the air you breathed, especially when the wind kicked up.

The powder was one of the first things Glen Bootay noticed when, as a combat engineer with the Third Infantry Division, he arrived at the water-treatment facility at Qarmat Ali, Iraq, in April 2003. He even mentioned it to his mom in a call home.

Bootay and his squad spent three days and two nights at Qarmat Ali. They were there to determine if the vandalized plant, stripped bare of valuables and missing its roofs, could be salvaged.

Another vet told a Senate committee last month that there were about 1,000 100-pound bags of the orange powder at the plant. Medic Russell Powell said many of the bags "were ripped and exposed to the wind, . . . placed by doorways and buildings so we had to actually walk through the piles of the orange powder when we entered and exited the buildings. . . . We used them as security measures, as sandbags. . . . There were at least two inches of powder on my boots."

The powder was sodium dichromate, a deadly poison and carcinogen. Until fleeing Iraqis used it to sabotage the plant, the chemical had been used as an anticorrosive in water pipes feeding the oil fields. One expert testified to the Senate committee that "a grain of sand worth of sodium dichromate per cubic meter could lead to serious long-term health problems, including cancer." And yet, after a dust storm, Powell testified, "We'd all look like orange-powdered doughnuts."

Even during his short stay there, Bootay told the committee, "I started to suffer from nasal congestion and headaches. I remember that the air tasted like metal."

Hundreds of soldiers were there for months, protecting contractors from Kellogg, Brown & Root, then a subsidiary of Halliburton, which was rebuilding Iraq's oil-production infrastructure.

Powell testified: "I and many other soldiers and KBR workers had severe nosebleeds, coughed up blood, had difficulty breathing, nausea, and experienced a burning sensation in our lungs and throats. . . . Many of the soldiers around me began having skin lesions on their arms, hands, faces, and nostrils."

Neither soldiers nor civilian workers were warned about the danger, according to testimony at two Senate hearings, one last summer and another last month. Complaints were dismissed as allergic reactions to sand and dust. The powder was called a "minor irritant."

When Edward Blacke, a KBR health and safety coordinator, learned that a U.N. report from May 2003 had clearly warned of the risks, he challenged safety officials at a staff meeting. He was called insubordinate - and then flown out of the country.

"It was criminally negligent of [KBR management] . . . to continue to expose personnel to sodium dichromate poisoning . . . when they knew of the exposure," Blacke told senators last summer.

By August 2003, KBR was taking the dangers more seriously. But hundreds had already been exposed.

Bootay's headaches continued. He had no idea why, and neither did the Army. Once discharged, he was "vomiting up to 20 times a day." He sought help from the Department of Veterans Affairs. But no one was linking his illness - or others like it - with Qarmat Ali. Bootay didn't make the connection, either, until after he read an article this summer.

He's been back in Pittsburgh, with his parents, for three years. His mom, a nurse, and his dad are his full-time caregivers. He described his current condition to the Senate committee:

"I have constant headaches, constant chest pain with skipped heartbeats, shortness of breath due to the lower edge of my lungs being collapsed, extreme fatigue, periodic skin rashes, inability to sweat, periodic vomiting without nausea, loss of feeling on left side and torso, high blood sugar, episodes of kidney stones, episodes of blacking out and short-term memory loss. I have been on two forms of chemotherapy for over two years and take up to 35 medications a day. I have to walk with a cane or a walker, and I am unable to work. All of this, and I'm only 30 years old."

Outraged senators are calling for investigations of the Army and KBR. Some are trying to make it easier for vets exposed to sodium dichromate to get help.

All good moves, but they will take time. Bootay needs help now.

His pleas for VA coverage of his medical expenses and a disability rating have gone unanswered. His last VA hearing was in December. Eight months later, no response. Sen. Arlen Specter's office didn't return his call. Staffers for Sen. Bob Casey said they contacted the VA, but the agency hasn't reached out to Bootay.

In a phone call Tuesday, Bootay sounded tired. He was nearing the end of an eight-hour chemo treatment. I expected to hear anger or frustration. Instead, he calmly made his case. He is satisfied with his treatment at the University of Pittsburgh Medical Center, but he would like the VA to cover the costs. And VA disability payments would "help take the financial burden off my parents. They've been providing for me."

Bootay enlisted on Sept. 12, 2001. "Because of the attacks, I felt like it was my generation's turn to step up to the plate," he said. And despite his illness and the grief from an unresponsive system, he added, "I would serve again. . . . I feel that it was a worthy cause."

When needed, Bootay responded. Now that he needs help, why is he being kept on hold?