Jim Spiri in Iraq

Now, during my time in Mosul, pretty much the entire base figured out who I was and enjoyed that finally someone was telling the story from an angle that had not been told before.

However, this guy, who again, has something to do with the State Department, I presume, had it in his mind that because I was carrying a camera I must be a terrorist. When he questioned me I tried to remind him that I had not had my morning coffee yet and I was once again out of dip, therefore, I was not really in that good of a mood to be "accused" of anything. After a brief encounter and a few "war of words", he somehow got the picture that his ducks were not in a very good row and it was best for him to back off, just a bit. Needless to say, after that, I did not need any coffee to wake up, but I did go and find some dip.

Oh well, such is life for an old hippie carrying a camera in the war zone, coming across rocket scientists who have nothing better to do but make life difficult for me. He was the only one in a long time.

When he got off the plane in Baghdad, I believe he finally realized that I was on the right team.

Once in Baghdad, I ended up waiting in the passenger area for about 12 hours, in order to take a five-minute helicopter flight to the International Zone, more commonly known as the Green Zone. There were signs all over the place that said not to lay down on benches, yet there was really nowhere to wait except outside under a tin roof where hundreds of troops were staged awaiting to go home, either on R and R, or redeployment back home for end of tour. Eventually, night time rolled around and I was taken to the waiting area for helicopter flights. Myself and the other passengers were brought to the flight line where we waited patiently for the arrival of two black hawk UH60 helicopters to whisk us away to the Green Zone.

During this time while waiting for the helicopters, I was in awe at the sight on the flight line. I noticed four Chinook helicopters landing, and the thought that it was a good possibility that one of them was probably my son as pilot in command. This was to my left. On my right was a C-17, unloading a full planeload of incoming troops and loading up a full load of troops going home. My job in years past was handling those troops coming in and going home. In the center was where I was standing with some other passengers awaiting the landing of two Blackhawk helicopters that were coming for us. At this very moment I decided that the 12-hour wait was well worth this moment in time. For I had been realizing that in no uncertain terms I had come full circle in a world of experiences in the past several years. I knew by this that the journey I was on was not quite over yet.

Baghdad would be interesting.

Once the Blackhawks landed, we were escorted into them and buckled in for the short hop over to the Green Zone. I once again was next to the window and peered out in the night sky as we zoomed over the Baghdad skyline. Looking below off in the distant directions I tried to imagine where all the bad guys might be hiding. We landed in about 7 minutes and I hopped off and met my point of contact. I was taken to the place where "media" folks go to, and bedded down for the night. I was once again in the heart of the center of Baghdad, in the Green Zone.

There is a process that has to take place during certain times of embeds and I had come to coordinate the upcoming days. I would take a shower, hop into bed, and wait for the sun to come up. It was now going on about 0200 in the morning. I was tired.

In the morning, some paperwork things were taken care of and by 1100 hrs there was going to be a briefing by General Huggins of the 3rd ID for media folks. Once I heard of this I immediately began to inquire as to how I go about attending. There was a Major, a female, who reluctantly told me that she did not know who I was and for that reason, I would not be able to attend. Inside I thought to myself, "Well, you're about to find out who I am, mam."

So, with the media folks loading up in a van to take them to the briefing, I immediately began my plan to "get on the van". I went to the person in charge here and hurriedly explained that I want to attend. After a very short interval of explanations, the person got the picture and made it happen that I would be allowed to attend the "media" briefing. The van was directed to wait for one more passenger, me, and I came out with camera in tow and loaded into the van.

Now, this is where the story gets fun.

In this van were reporters from the Washington Post, Newsweek Magazine, Financial Times, NPR radio, and some others. And then there was me, from, uh...well..New Mexico. But some of the Army folks had received word that "Mr. Spiri" had just finished an interview with Lt. General Odierno a couple days back and perhaps it might be a good idea to bring him along.
The trick in this game is to make it someone else's idea, no matter what the obstacles are. It is not often I resort to this strategy, however, after having been running around the streets of Fallujah and the streets of Mosul for the past four months with the "boots on the ground" I thought it quite normal for me to attend a "media briefing" with all those that have not done that lately. It just seems to add a bit of color to the whole picture.

So, I was brought into this nice room where lunch was being served and three officers were up front about to run the gauntlet with "reporters." Lunch was served, and then the briefing began. The ones handling the briefing would be General Huggins, Col. Farrell, and Lt. Col. Kolasheski, all of the 3rd ID.

These are the men basically in charge of the most busy aspect of the "surge" that General Petreus has been speaking of last week before Congress.

These warriors absolutely know their stuff, whether the media people think so or not.

I listened to the dialog that transpired and soon realized that for the most part, most media folks are not that interested in exactly what is going on. Rather, it is my observation that the media folks are wanting mostly to talk about ambiguous political situations that are all theoretical at best, and somewhere along the line write about it and "inform"
those waiting at home on what they think is really going on.

I sipped my coffee and was quiet, for a while.

At one point, it was brought out that the folks back home think that this war is a "sectarian" battle, period. And to be fair, in part, that is true, a little. But, what the General, the Col. and the Lt. Col. were trying to explain was that their experience is not what the perception the folks back home are getting. Some reporter then asked, "why?".

I stopped sipping my coffee at this point.

No one spoke. I raised my hand. I was called upon. I introduced myself and began by saying that for the past four months I had been on the ground with the "grunts" with the Marines and the Army and that my experience had matched exactly with what the officers were trying to convey. I then asked, "Gentlemen, could it be that the perception that is being conveyed back home is being dispensed by those who have not traveled extensively with the boots on the ground?"

The answer was that, in fact, there have not been so many "reporters" on the ground in the areas where the surge has been most intensely operating and the results that have been quite positive have not gotten out there to the extent that should have been. By now, all the "media" folks' eyes were looking at the old hippie with the camera and realizing that perhaps walking the walk is much different than talking the talk. The female Major who strongly hesitated in bringing me in the first place now realized that she was about to learn just who I was and would for sure not forget ever again.

The rest of the talk continued and afterward I spoke at length with Col. Farrell. His public affairs officer made a beeline to me and we chatted about some upcoming things. It is possible, I will see more of them in the near future, we'll see.

Later, we were brought back to the media offices and a second press conference was about to take place. This time by Adm. Fox and General Anderson. It would be about the capture of the killer of Sheik Satar. There were lots and lots more media here this time, and for some reason I seemed to have a front row seat this time. I listened, watched the videos, heard all the questions, and said nothing. I knew what was said.

They caught the guy who killed Sheik Satar. All the other stuff was just questions about political stuff that at the moment, are not that relevant to what had transpired in the capture.

I'm back at the media holding area awaiting another flight to another location. I've once again found my way to the center of the pulse, in spite of obstacles.

I'm tired, but pressing on. It was an interesting day here in the "nerve center" of Iraq. But one day here is enough. I did not take notes, I just listened. Seems that is the best way these days. All these smart people around me with pens, and recorders and equipment and fancy name tags, work so hard to miss the real meat of the story.

I wonder how much they actually get paid.

Jim Spiri
Baghdad, Iraq
jimspiri@yahoo.com