Families wrestling with fear in response to first casualties.

Byline: Scott Maben The Register-Guard

The headlines and television news tickers are bringing chilling reports: Two U.S. Marines die in combat. Four Marines killed in helicopter crash. Allies suffer their first casualties of war.

For the families of Marine reserves in Lane County, it's terrifying to watch. And impossible not to.

"It's pretty scary. I'm watching as much as I can," said Kathy Johnson of Crow, whose son, Casey, is a Marine Corps corporal in Kuwait - or possibly Iraq.

A registered nurse at the Creswell Care Center nursing home, Johnson catches as many updates as she can during her 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. shift. During the day, she interrupts her sleep to tune into nonstop war coverage.

Accounts of Marines dying, with no identities being released immediately, are unnerving, she said Friday.

"I kind of catch my breath and try to listen,' she said. `And, of course, hope that Casey is safe. But I also worry about those that did meet death and what their families are going through."

At first she was jittery over the possibility that Iraqi missiles fired into Kuwait might contain chemical or biological agents, but now she's hopeful none will.

"I guess I feel he's a little more secure now," she said.

Casey Johnson, 23, is with Eugene's Engineer Company A of the 6th Engineer Support Battalion, with headquarters in Portland. The unit is attached to the 1st Force Service Support Group of the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force, bound for Baghdad.

These reserves, including about 130 from Company A, specialize in repairing roads and runways, building bridges and temporary housing, and doing electrical, water and plumbing work for military camps and cities seized by coalition forces.

Because they're in a support role, following the front-line troops, their families hope these Marines are a safe distance from hostilities. But they have no way of knowing. For reasons of security, no one at home has information about where members of the unit are, where they're going or what they're doing.

"What he does in this particular squadron is a secret to me," said Darby Tracy of Eugene, the mother of Marine Sgt. Chris Tracy, who turns 28 next week. "He's not very communicative, probably by design for his mother."

When he was on active duty, Tracy was a machine gunner in the infantry and also specialized in rifle security. Now a reserve, he works in security at the Weyerhaeuser containerboard plant in Springfield.

"When he joined the Marine Corps, that was like my test of faith," said his mother, who retired last year from 31 years of teaching at Eugene's Howard Elementary School. "I guess it continues to be that."

She gleans what she can from the news.

"The coverage is very explicit," she said. "I know he's doing what he likes to do, but I'm terrified. We had to take a break (from the TV reports). I was getting too anxious."

But soon she was back watching the correspondents and military analysts and Pentagon briefings, playing solitaire and busying herself with other "mindless things."

"I've almost got some of their news flashes memorized," she said.

LaVonne Fuller of Cottage Grove is juggling pride and fear for her son, Marine Cpl. Kurtis Fuller, 24, who headed to the gulf in early February with others from the engineering group.

"You don't know from watching TV anything about the specifics of your son and where he's located and what involvement he has in it," said Fuller, cafeteria manager at Cottage Grove High School.

"With every picture that flashes on TV that talks about Marines, you're looking for your son's face," she said. "I can watch it for a little while, but then I have to turn it off and do other things that aren't quite so stressful. That doesn't meant that I'm turning it off in my mind. I just need a break from watching it."

Kurtis Fuller works for Home Depot, most recently helping to open a store in Klamath Falls. In the gulf, he works in bridge engineering.

His mother, off from work Friday, reluctantly followed the news that two Marines had been killed in combat, one day after four American and eight British Marines died in a helicopter crash near the Kuwait-Iraq border.

She said she felt: "Immediate fear. Immediate cringing. Fear that it may be yours."

The tears came.

"I'm sure that there are many, many mothers across the United States that have had to experience the same type of fear in other wars we've been involved in. None of us know until we walk in those shoes how great that fear is."