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Advertisement | Iraq Is A Dangerous BeatKimberly Dozier Says The Heat Is Steadily Increasing On Reporters| Page 2 of 2 AMMAN, Jordan, on the way to Iraq, Jan. 30, 2006 ![]() A U.S. marine leads a Humvee as he looks for Improvised Explosive Devices on a road near the town of al-Qaim at the Iraqi-Syrian border, Oct. 29, 2005. (AFP/Getty Images) (CBS) Then it starts all over again — the eyeball glued to the alarm clock the night before the trip, counting the minutes until morning. Then there's the armored car dash to our meeting point with the military (which often entails a roundtrip down the Airport Road, and you just know the insurgents know our cars by now, and they see us from their hiding places and say to themselves, "Oh, there go the western TV journalists. We could go for them, but let's see if we can get a humvee or an Iraqi army patrol today instead.") We then spend the day rolling around Baghdad or nearby, with U.S. troops in Humvees, or more precariously, with their Iraqi counterparts in far less protected vehicles. We wrap up in a Kevlar vest, Kevlar helmet, ballistic eye protection and ear plugs — the last two are recent additions in the past couple of years, after the U.S. military discovered they help save eyesight and hearing — but that's little comfort when the U.S. soldiers give their preliminary safety briefing before we go out with them. It goes a little like this, usually a young sergeant to a bunch of privates: "OK, you know what to be on the look for. As usual, we've got the improvised explosive devices — remember they're hiding them in median strips again, but they're still using all the other hiding places — the garbage, the dead dogs and donkeys, etc. And we're seeing more of those shaped charges, which can be hidden in something as small as a Coke can. There are at least two car bombers reported to be looking for targets in our AO today (area of operations)," and on and on. Sometimes, the young soldiers like to give journalists a hard time, especially if they think we might be green, saying things like, 'Ma'am, if we're hit by a bomb and we all get taken out, here's how you operate the Humvee radio to call for help." Thanks, guys. Unfortunately, it could happen. Almost every soldier I meet now has done at least one tour of Iraq, and is sometimes working on his or her second or third, and that means they've seen a lot of action. Almost every one has been hit by something. And while they may have walked away, they usually know someone who hasn't. It gives a whole new meaning to the expression, "Feel the fear, and do it anyway." Wow, do they. So basically, if you want to tell their story, you have to take their risks. To take the metaphor a little further, if we, the journalists, are sitting in hot water, the troops we cover are hopping around on Hell's coals. Even when we spend extended time with them, we face a tiny fraction of their risk. It's even worse for their Iraqi army and police counterparts, who are getting attacked at even higher rates, with deadlier consequences. And then you've got the Iraqi people, who never signed up for combat, but are sure seeing a lot of it. And they're not restricted to tours of duty, nor do they have a ticket out. So yes, absolutely, journalists face awful, dangerous risks in Iraq, more so than almost anyplace else on earth right now. But it's nothing compared to the people we cover. And knowing how Bob and Doug both can be direct to the extreme, they will likely shortly be telling all of us, when they get our of surgery, 'Come off it, folks. We knew the risks, and that's never stopped us from doing the job — nor will it. Now let's get back to work."
By Kimberly Dozier | Advertisement |
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