By Steve Vogel
Washington Post Staff Writer
Tuesday, November 11, 2003; Page A01

As the automatic doors leading out of customs at BWI Airport swung open, a loud, sustained cheer rang out. The troops just off the plane from Iraq -- looking gritty in their desert camouflage uniforms -- stopped short.

"Welcome back. Good to have you home," said Bill Self, a Vietnam War veteran, extending his hand to each soldier arriving for two weeks of home leave. Beyond him, a second line of veterans was waiting with telephone cards allowing the soldiers to make free calls across the country.

At the end of the gantlet stood Ray Shipley, 75, a Korean War veteran from Bowie who served in both the Army and Air Force. He knew that every second of leave is precious and wanted to make sure the soldiers didn't waste it sitting in an airport. Like the old buck sergeant he is, Shipley hurried them off to the appropriate ticket agent.

"They only have 15 days, and that time starts as soon as they get off the airplane," he said.

He spotted a soldier dragging a green duffle bag. "Hey, sarge, come on over here. Welcome home, buddy. Where you going? . . . Chicago? See the man here. He'll get you there in a couple of hours -- or less."

With polls showing rising doubt at home about the wisdom of the Iraqi war, the veterans who show up every morning to greet the troops at Baltimore-Washington International say their mission is to make sure the returning soldiers know that they still have the support of Americans.

"These guys are fighting over there, and there are all these arguments. Somebody should tell these guys, 'Hey, you're fighting for us, and we appreciate it,' " Shipley said. "It's not their fault that we get in the predicaments that governments put us into."

It is a lesson some of the veterans know well. Self is a former Navy corpsman who served with the 3rd Marine Division in Da Nang in 1965 and 1966.

"I went through the same thing in Vietnam," Self, 74, said. "There wasn't anyone to see me when I got home, so we're here to make sure that doesn't happen again."

Many veterans of Vietnam, returning to a deeply divided United States, were greeted with scorn, even spitting or hostile epithets, when they arrived home in uniform. As yet, the nation's ambivalence about the Iraq war has not extended to the men and women fighting it. Self, Shipley and the other veterans want to make sure it stays that way.

Today will be only the fourth day Shipley has missed the scene at BWI since the home leave program began six weeks ago. It is Veterans Day, and Shipley, Maryland state commander for the Veterans of Foreign Wars, is speaking at a ceremony at Rocky Gap State Veterans Cemetery. But others will mark the day greeting the troops at BWI, among them Self. Most days, four or five Maryland VFW members show up for the arriving flights, and more than two dozen are participating in the program at BWI, the main hub for troops on their way to and from Iraq.

With the troop planes typically arriving about 5 a.m., Self and his wife, Carolyn, are up at 3 most mornings to get to BWI on time from their home in Mount Airy. "No grousing, either," he said. On Friday, they got to sleep late, until quarter to five, because the plane was not due until 7 a.m.

There is an easy and instant rapport between the soldiers and the vets. "There's a bond there. Definitely. They're the ones who know what you've been through," said one of the soldiers who returned Friday, Sgt. John Ziegler, 23, with the 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment based at Fort Carson, Colo.

Some of the soldiers shook Bill Self's hand and thanked him for coming. Self quickly corrected them: "No, it's the other way around. We want to thank you."

After the troops passed through customs, Shipley and other veterans marched them upstairs to the United Airlines counter. The airline will honor troop tickets from any carrier, an arrangement that has allowed many soldiers to make quicker connections.

"We can get them home two, three, four hours sooner," said John Reiman, one of the veterans.

Shipley was everywhere, directing soldiers to the proper line or packing them off for their gate. A sergeant dropped his Kevlar helmet, and Shipley was on top of it in a flash. "Here's your pot," he said, using World War II-era vernacular. Another soldier asked if he could stroll outside. Shipley immediately knew what he was really after: "You want to smoke, is that it? Go right over there."

When a hapless pair of travelers joined the line of soldiers waiting at the United counter, Shipley firmly chased them away. "Civilians!" he barked. "Your line is over there."

In an aside, Shipley whispered his secret: "I don't have any authority, but I act like I own the airport."

Nearby, two National Guard soldiers from Ohio described being part of the recovery crew that went through the wreckage of a Chinook helicopter shot down by a missile two weeks ago near Fallujah, claiming the lives of 16 soldiers.

Shipley edged away. "I don't want to hear those stories," he said. "I get emotional."

Less than 90 minutes after they walked out of customs, virtually all the soldiers were on their way home or waiting at gates for connecting flights. Shipley made a final swing, making sure that every soldier was squared away.

"You're all set," he announced to the last group of soldiers standing by their duffle bags. "All you guys -- get the heck out of here."