The Hilton's Strange Embed Fellows

Journalists fret about the potential for control, but not too loudly. "I've come to think that 'embed' refers to the microchip they put in the back of your neck," says one reporter for a major daily who asked not to be identified. News-hounds don't want to risk antagonizing the PAOs.

"Hoo-hah," one correspondent shouts to his friends, trying out the Army's signature greeting as he treads polished marble en route to the press center. Actually it's pronounced Hoo-ah.

At a support base about 100 miles south of the Iraqi border called Camp Arifjan, a squad of journalists is escorted through a maze of warehouses, trucks, tanks and helicopters. They dutifully interview soldiers who are preparing for war by revving engines and painting bumpers.

"You're observing a first here," says public affairs officer Bob Whistine, explaining that previous media visits missed the actual arrival of Army trucks. He's one of four military minders shepherding seven journalists on a tour of the sprawling facility.

A TV crew from Spain complains about the lack of action shots. The flacks summon a Spanish-speaking soldier to do a brief stand-up on a landing pad filled with Blackhawk helicopters awaiting medical evacuation duty.

The PAOs also warn that no photos can be taken of a wooden sign erected by an Indiana-based National Guard unit. It's a totem that gung-ho soldiers display in every conflict: Fort Wayne, 6,770 miles; Hanoi or Berlin, or wherever, so many miles that way.

Censors have forbidden us to identify the capital of a certain Arab country on the sign. An earlier photo ran on the wires and it offended the "host nation," as military officials describe Kuwait.

So Kuwait didn't want the U.S Army to advertise its military intentions toward a particular nation?

"It may sound silly but that's the guidance we got," says Sgt. Maj. Larry Stevens, another spokesman at the base.

Suddenly, the ethical debate over the sign gives way to an urgent report: At Camp Fox, in northern Kuwait near the Iraqi border, hostile forces may have dropped canisters of biological agents. Fox is 70 miles from Arifjan.

Citing the possibility of similar attacks, officials suspend the media's planned visit with soldiers on the perimeter of the supply base. "I want to take them but the risk just isn't worth it," announces 1st Sgt. Charlie Cox. The reporters didn't bring gas masks.

The reporters broil in the sun for more than an hour until officials give the all clear: The "attack" on Fox turns out to be just a training drill.

"The Pentagon is mortified that something might happen to a journalist," says Ed Felker, a correspondent for papers in Moline and Rock Island, Ill. "They don't want a dead reporter, an injured reporter or even a scratched reporter."

Now the debate takes another turn: Is this a form of control or just common sense?