Hostile Mission for Recruiters

"I don't want to just sit around this town," says Haslicker, 18, of Cumberland, who ships out to basic training later this month. "I'm up for adventure. I want to make something of myself."

Broadwater helped sell Brandon Davis on the Army and says he's "up there" -- pointing heavenward -- "proud." Like Davis, Broadwater was a combat engineer, but in the reserves, which he joined at 17. Broadwater's family members were shocked two years ago when he left a good-paying construction job for active duty in the LaVale recruiting station.

"After September 11th, one weekend a month in uniform wasn't enough," he explains. He grew up in this region, too, in Meyersdale, Pa. In high school, he wrestled against Joseph Darby, the 372nd MP who slipped a note under a superior's door describing the prisoner abuse by his comrades-in-arms. Broadwater has put three recruits into the 372nd this year, he says. "Are they going to be good soldiers? Yeah, they will be."

"I love the Army," he says a half-dozen times in a day. It's given him a career path, and, certainly in this job, firm goals. He's had Army logos and colors stitched onto his new leather jacket and painted on his motorcycle. Broadwater would go to Iraq "right now," he says.

Instead, he is headed to Frostburg, his wheeled suitcase filled with brochures and key chains for the freshmen at Frostburg State University.

Broadwater strides across the campus, his crew-cut head swiveling. "Some days I'll walk along . . . and the kids are all like this," he demonstrates, hiding his face and turning away. A week ago, Broadwater was at another college when an administrator tried to run him off. She knew Davis, the dead soldier from Cumberland, and she told Broadwater that she'd tear down his recruiting posters. Broadwater lost his temper. "He died for your right for complain!" he shouted at her.

The campus is empty. Broadwater gives his business card to an administrator whose foster son "needs the military" and suggests a basketball game with a muscular senior who's favoring the Air Force.

"Where're the kids today?" Broadwater keeps asking. They tell him to come back tonight for the freshman barbecue.

Back in LaVale, Broadwater calls Joshua Hickey, his first recruit this month, who says he wants to serve "to do my part, and earn bonuses for college." Hickey has a friend who might want to join. Broadwater sets up a meeting at the Keyser gas station. "You really need to push him for me," he tells Hickey. Three times, he says, "If there's a problem, call."

Dale Terry, the battalion's advertising and public relations chief, bustles around the office. He has come from Pittsburgh to find ways to stem the losses. He might order a larger sign for the center. He is thinking about sponsoring a local running race. He's checked into doing more TV ads. He has wandered through the Wal-Mart, asking local people how they feel about the Army. "Ninety percent positive," he says, riffling through a stack of questionnaires, quoting from a few. "Good job!" writes Ruth, 45. "When they abuse people there's no excuse for it," writes Stacey, 33.

"We are a nation at war," Terry says. "The moms and dads are hearing conflicting stories from the media. But the Army drives on."

The four recruiters look at him, then go back to their phones. They remember the surge of walk-ins after Sept. 11, when the war on terrorism began. These days, hardly anybody walks through the door and into the Army. Candidates with a felony or a drug or weapons charge on their records won't do. Some flunk their aptitude tests. In the past few days, three LaVale recruits failed their physicals: one for a wart, one for a bunion and one because he'd been poked in the eye a day before. The men call the Army doctor "the anti-recruiter."

Broadwater shrugs into his leather jacket with Army logos and mounts the motorcycle painted Army colors. His feet barely touch the ground as he revs up, then zips through the foothills to Frostburg.

Peach-fuzzed kids in shorts reflect off his mirrored sunglasses as Broadwater scans the crowd. He's looking for Steven McKelvey, a reservist from Bel Air, Md., who wants to transfer to a unit closer to campus. When the recruiter finds him, the pre-law freshman says he'd like to be a military policeman.

Broadwater brightens. An MP for the 372nd.

"Awesome unit," he says. "Awesome."