"Exciting times" for "embedded" journalists
By Peter Mackler
KUWAIT CITY, April 4 (AFP) - You're caked in sand, body and laptop. You sleep in a ratty sleeping bag under the cold desert sky and check for scorpions in your boots before putting them on in the morning.
You hang with kids hoisting M-16s, playing heavy metal music and driving trucks baptized "Redneck Rampage." You hear the terror down the road but can't see past your own brigade, much less to Baghdad.
You're a war correspondent, slimed, grimed and above all -- embedded. More than 500 journalists have been "embedded," or integrated, into US combats units in Iraq, eating, sleeping and traveling with the troops on a scale unprecedented in the annals of battlefield coverage.
The experiment has produced compelling front-line reports and breathless live images of hi-tech havoc. But if the press is steeped in the consequences of war, how much truth comes with it is an open question.
"You're only seeing a slice of the battlefield," said AFP correspondent Lachlan Carmichael, one of the first reporters to move into Baghdad airport Friday with the US army's 3rd Infantry Division (3ID).
"You get access to the commanders pretty easily," said Carmichael, who covered the first Gulf war in 1991. But he added : "You're somewhat dependent on them, what you see, what they'll let you see."
Luke Hunt, an Australian who left the Cambodian jungles for desert duty with AFP in Iraq, found the low-level "grunts" of the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force open and honest with him.
But Hunt, who followed his unit through a harrowing bridge crossing under heavy Iraqi fire in the southern town of Nasiriyah, said the danger was feeling too close to the troops. "There are times when you have to remind yourself that you are a reporter and this is your job," he said.
Carmichael agreed : "You want to be friendly to people who are being friendly to you. But you want to remember how to ask the tough questions."
There is little censorship in the traditional sense ; guidelines provided by the military are aimed mostly at reports that could compromise the security of troops by giving out their location, numbers or intentions.
But in the high-octane, high-testosterone world of combat reporting, objectvity often goes out the window, and American reporters refer to "us" and "we" when talking about the US military.
One correspondent from a major US news weekly argued against writing about deficiencies in the much-vaunted Apache attack helicopter until after the war. "We don't want Saddam to know about it now," he said.
But most of the correspondents' filing headaches are logistical : bad communications, computer keyboards encrusted with dust, satellite phones banned by the military because of their trackable signals.
Gone are the days when war reporters needed no more than a notepad and pencil. The Iraq hacks do battle with an array of electronic gear, including global positioning systems and converters to tap into truck batteries.
They carry suits that will supposedly protect them from a nuclear, biological or chemical attack, clip a gas mask near their left hip and strap on goggles or sun glasses to protect their eyes from the dust and sun.
Hand lotion and lip balm are essential to staving off dry skin in a country plagued by sandstorms ; handi-wipes take the place of a good shower. Lose your water canteen and you risk a headache from dehydration.
Adrenalin rushes are common, such as the thrill of flying in a Black Hawk helicopter swooping into an airfirield just captured by US forces. But in many ways, the overall experience can be curiously unsatisfying.
"I want to give a broader perspective and report on the villages and towns that have been the centres of conflict," said Karl Malakunas, AFP's man with the 101st Airborne Division.
"For me, the war is about the people who fall victim to it, and being an 'embed' has not allowed me to cover that aspect yet."