January 06, 2009

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Young and Embedded

18 year-old, Derek Mitchell, has been sent to Iraq to report on the war-torn country. He is the youngest journalist to report live from Iraq, and the youngest embedded reporter in history. These are his letters to Youth Radio.

Wednesday, June 9, 2004:

Simply put, I am excited. Not as nervous as most people would like to believe. In about 24 hours, I will be aboard a flight to London, and then to Kuwait City, Kuwait. I have really no idea what happens from there. I've been told that I will be manifested aboard a flight into Mosul, Iraq. That could be Saturday, Sunday or Monday - and the weather in Kuwait City isn't nice and cool... today's temperatures are over 100 degrees. Luckily, the tents that I'm staying in will be air conditioned. At 18 years old, when I touch down in Iraq, I'll become the youngest journalist to report live from the war-torn country, and the youngest embedded reporter in the history of the program.

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Monday, June 14, 2004:

The flights were long, but I have made it into Iraq. The time changes are still getting to me, but I'm working on sleeping it off over the weekend so that I can get down to business on Monday morning.

One cool note from my flight to Kuwait from London, was that we flew directly over Mosul and Baghdad. I think back to the times when nobody dared fly over those cities, and now, commercial airlines can fly over them, and soon probably through them.

I've met a number of Iraqis and an even greater number of American soldiers in Kuwait and Iraq. My flight into Kuwait arrived an hour ahead of schedule and into temperatures in excess of 100 degrees. Quite hot for 5:30am. The flight from Kuwait to Iraq was even warmer, aboard an Air Force cargo plane that had very little ventilation.

Prior to my departure from Camp Wolverine in Kuwait City, I met with the public affairs officer who was coordinating the details of my embed, including flight arrangements. While I was signing the last of the paperwork, he fell to his curiosity and asked exactly how old I was. When I told him, just 18 years old, he looked quite shocked. He recalled seeing my date of birth on the paperwork and thought it was just a typo. He informed me that I was certainly the youngest embedded journalist that he's worked with in the last year, and probably the youngest of the whole war (he's checking into this). That's a statement.

Camp Wolverine in Kuwait was an amazing place. Tents were everywhere, behind a maze of concrete barricades restricting access to the suicide bombers and other terrorists. The threat is definately real. The Kuwaitis I met were nice people. I talked to many of them at the airport while in line for my visa, and while waiting for the shuttle to the APOD (Aerial Port of Debarkation). I finally got to the right people and had my name put on a flight list. It seemed I had already missed Saturday's flight and would probably be staying until Monday (in fact, they had already assigned me a tent to stay in for the night) - but, not 10 minutes after getting to the tent, an Air Force officer came in, and informed me and about 20 others (combination of soldiers and contractors) to get our stuff together, because we made a flight. Lucky... at just 7 a.m., it was still over 100 and getting warmer. I was glad to get into the northern parts of Iraq where the temperatures are still in the high 90s, but better than in Kuwait.

Flying into Iraq was uneventful, the landing was 'interesting', virtually falling out of the sky, but it wasn't the roller coaster I had been expecting.

It's about 95 today in Mosul - typical from what I understand but it can range from 90 to low 100s. Nearly every place where soldiers could spend their time is air conditioned, except outside of course. They all wear the desert camo... pretty hot stuff for temperatures like this - but they never lose their sense of humor. Always working with a smile (or a joke, most of the time).

The Iraqis employed within FOB Marez (where the 133rd Battalion is based) are all great people. One, I understand, used to be a higher ranking soldier within Saddam's army. Another, Mawan (Known locally as Floyd), is a nice guy who gives great haircuts (I've seen his work, but yet to have my own hair shaved to the typical military length). Iraqis are employed in various capacities through the base, including operating the internet cafe, barbers, cooks, and general laborers. They seem to enjoy it and they interact with the soldiers with jokes and a smile.

Luckily I came into Iraq on a saturday and have the remainder of Sunday to recover from the time change (8 hours) - I'm hoping to get some sleep today before getting down to business reporting tomorrow morning. I've heard a convoy to one of Saddam's many palaces is in my immediate future (the palace now plays home to the 133rd Engineering Battalion's headquarters), and various trips through northern Iraq as I spend my two weeks with the unit.

-Derek Mitchell in Mosul, Iraq

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Monday, June 21, 2004:

Some amazing opportunities have come my way in the last few days while I've been here in Iraq. And some scary moments have come along with them.

My second day here got off to a quiet start, but it didn't stay that way. Around mid-day, there was a mortar attack on the base where I’m staying. I heard a loud ‘boom’ as the ground shook beneath us from the explosion. The soldiers around me didn't appear too alarmed, saying the mortar hadn’t landed anywhere near us. But the incident certainly shocked the hell out of me. The soldiers I spoke with told me they didn't panic, because it was practically a normal occurrence for them, happening almost daily. I haven't heard any mortar attacks since. I do, however, make sure to note the locations of 'C' bunkers at any camp I am visiting—their thick concrete bunkers are the only sure protection from mortar attacks.

Earlier this week, I was taken on a 'field trip' to a remote project site in Northern Iraq where the 133rd Engineering Battalion is building a road. The trip was uneventful for the most part, except for the occasional 'dust devil' that swept sand right up through our protective goggles and into our eyes.

The return trip to the Camp Marez base wasn't so calm, however. When we were literally just ten or twenty minutes from camp, Iraqi police stopped our convoy. They told us that an IED (Improvised Explosive Device) had been found on the roadway- the same roadway we were just a minute from crossing. It made me pretty uneasy to hear that.

Our convoy was asked to provide security while an EOD Team (Explosive Ordinance Disposal team) safely detonated the device. Often, the soldiers explained to me, these IEDs are command detonated-- meaning that someone hiding on a rooftop or in the bushes waits to detonate the device by remote control at sight of a passing convoy. The job of the 133rd was to keep an eye out in case someone attempted to set it off, but it was a tough gig because there were literally a thousand people gathered there to watch.

Some explosives were placed near the IED and detonated, destroying it safely. After talking with Iraqi police for a few minutes, we were allowed to pass, and made it through the potentially dangerous situation without a scratch. I've attached some photos of these events with this letter.

On Wednesday, I was told that I would be accompanying the 133rd Engineering Battalion's 'Bravo' Company on a convoy to the Habur Gate region of Iraq. To provide a little background on the area, it is about as far north as you can go in Iraq. It’s literally a stone’s throw from Turkey, and not much further to Syria. Here, hundreds of tanker trucks wait in line to cross the border into Turkey with fuel and other necessary goods. It isn't unusual for these trucks to wait in line four days or more.

The drive was about two hours long, and pretty uneventful. I was given the chance to ride in the lead vehicle, which is both dangerous and to a certain extent, thrilling. The convoy commander, Lieutenant Scott Lewis, also rode in the lead Humvee with me. The route we took wasn’t exactly the most direct, and we made a stop in the Kurdish city of Dahook. Here, one has to make sure not to call the residents ‘Iraqis’ – they’ll even deny it. The people of Dahook are Kurdish; some even claim they don't live in Iraq, and live instead in 'Kurdistan'.

As we drove I noticed the flags flying atop many of the buildings didn't look like the Iraqi flag (red, white and green stripes, with stars in the center). They had a sun shining in the center of the stripes- the flag of Kurdistan.

In Dahook, we stopped to shop at the 'Mazi Mart' shopping center. Basically, it was like a Walmart, with great prices on many clothing items, but pretty high prices on electronics. I noticed some Nike sneakers selling for just $16.

One of the great things about the area is that because the Kurds were so persecuted by Saddam, they love Americans and the changes the U.S. is making in the region. Soldiers feel so comfortable in the Kurdish areas that many commanders allow them to remove their body armor. But I decided to keep my vest on just to be safe. I did remove my tactical vest, which makes me look pretty intimidating, but keeps me safer.

For the first time during my trip I had a chance to talk with the local young people. I met one young guy, probably 14 or 15 named Jon. He said he liked American music - especially Michael Jackson and Shakira. I asked him what he didn't like and he said, "Saddam", "Saddam's Bad, but he's gone...Hasta la Vista, Saddam!". That was the best line I've heard the whole trip.

Because I was unarmed, it was really important that I stay with a 'Buddy' in the army, who, if anything happened, could help me. I decided to stick around the battalion medic, Spc. Dan Lackey. We took a walk through the market, looking at cheap shoes and expensive suits (imagine that, I could bring home a fitted suit from Iraq!). There was a sign that said 'Welcome to Dream City', which led to a small amusement park behind the store, with a Merry-Go-Round and a Ferris wheel.

We had about 30 minutes left in our stop, and I met up with a few other Bravo Soldiers near the front of the store. A large family gathered nearby on the benches, all enjoying an ice cream on a rather hot day. It was a great photo-op, so I asked a man who appeared to be the head of the family if it would be ok for me to take his photograph. He agreed, and introduced me to his brother and the rest of their family. In all, there were 13 people in the family, and the photo came out great.

I returned to Camp Marez around noon on Saturday to begin work producing a Father’s Day piece for my hometown radio station. I wanted to give as many soldiers as I could the chance to say hello to their families and wish their fathers a 'Happy Father's Day'. I had to get these filed before I went to sleep Saturday night so the staff back at the station could produce them in time. After a number of technical difficulties I was successful, and called it a night. It had also been the hottest day of the 133rd's deployment here in Mosul, remaining over 110 degrees most of the day.

Luckily, Sunday was my day off. I was pretty overtired and glad to have some time to myself. I wrote this blog, organized some photos (which had been building up on my digital camera) and watched a DVD. It was kinda weird to watch the movie 'Live from Baghdad' from here in Iraq, but it sure made sense to me!

I'd say the best part of the day was being able to spend Father's Day here. I haven't really mentioned it in my other blog entries, but my father is part of Maine's Army National Guard and is deployed with the 133rd Engineering Battalion. I hadn't seen him since January, and he was really looking forward to seeing me now that I've graduated high school. I brought him pictures of the prom and graduation, plus a Father's Day card. That definitely made him smile.

I'll try to update you more frequently this week. I have another overnight outing later in the week that should be great. It will bring me to a remote project site where many of the soldiers from my hometown are working – many of whom I was in school with just a year or two ago.

Take care,
Derek

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Monday, June 28, 2004:

As many of you have probably heard, today has been a tough day in Iraq, with several coordinated attacks taking place throughout the country. The worst was here in Mosul. The attacks appeared to target Iraqi police headquarters and training facilities, though I know very little beyond that.

I had the opportunity last night to accompany Commanding General Carter Ham aboard an Army Black Hawk helicopter to the Irbil College of Police, where we attended commencement exercises. It’s a three-year program that awards a degree in law enforcement, and 102 graduates- both men and women- were awarded their certifications.

We then traveled to a festive dinner in the Kurdish city of Irbil. The meal was served in so many courses that I lost count, but the food was good. I even tried 'sheep's tongue'- interesting, but certainly not something I am eager to eat again. We concluded the meal with Iraqi watermelon- definitely a taste of home.

After the meal, we returned to the helicopters and made the roughly 25-minute flight back to Saddam's former palace here in Mosul, arriving at about 10:30 pm. The trip was a great experience that left me pretty worn-out. I've been on several civilian helicopters in the past, but this was my first military helicopter ride. It was neat to fly over Iraq at night and see all the lights below.

I fell asleep once we returned to the palace and I got settled into my 'Connex' box here (a small trailer-type box with air conditioning). At around 9 am this morning, I was startled by the sound of a large explosion. It didn't have the distinct sound of a mortar, and seemed to be off in the distance, but it was still loud enough to rattle the ground. I immediately put on body armor and a helmet, and dropped to the ground just to be safe. I was pretty confident I wasn’t in danger here on the compound, but it’s always best to be safe.

After packing up my belongings, I walked over to the palace to see on CNN that Mosul had been part of a large, coordinated attack. Evidently the death toll here is 30 or more, with a huge number of people injured by car bombs and rocket attacks. I had planned to stay at the palace for only one night and return to base at Marez this afternoon. But because of the insurgent violence, the convoys have been mostly stopped and I will be staying another night here until I can get a ride back to Marez.

A quick explanation of all of these locations: Camp Marez is where the elements of the 133rd is based, including companies A, B, and C. I am living with the C company, and all of my belongings are there. Right now, I am here at Saddam's palace, where the 133rd headquarters is located, with only my desert ‘camo’ clothes and a set of civilian wear. Hopefully I’ll manage to get back to Marez tomorrow.

Here at the palace compound, I am not too concerned about my security- it’s a heavily guarded military installation, and I'm probably in one of the safest places around. But I am a little concerned about my flight out of here. I hope the military flights continue to operate as scheduled, and I can still return home on Sunday as planned.

That's it for now. It's almost chow time here in Mosul, and I'll probably settle in for the night after calling home to talk with a few friends.

Best,
Derek

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Thursday, July 15, 2004:

I’ve been back in the United States for a week today as I write this – actually, almost down to the hour. Looking back on the trip, and scanning through the photographs, I can recall the moments where I was genuinely nervous, and other times when I was having the time of my life.

Getting back down to business in the US isn’t an easy thing to do. Everyone wants to know how the trip was – and I have yet to figure out how to explain it in words. Iraq is such an amazing place. The mainstream media just makes it appear to be in constant uprising. They make it sound like every person there is an insurgent that hates the United States’ influence. It just does not work that way; and to an extent, I can understand why the Iraqis will not talk on camera to journalists – reporters tend to twist and skew things. I never saw an Iraqi child throw a rock at a humvee, or flip us ‘the bird’, but for some reason, major media finds it every day, and that is what makes the news. The video of kids playing on a nice grass soccer field or a police graduation ceremony hardly, if ever, make the front page. It almost makes me reconsider my career choices – my goal is now to change the industry. Remove the phrase ‘if it bleeds… it leads’ from network vocabulary.

It was a simply incredible trip. The only two words that really come to mind to describe what it is like over there are ‘REALLY HOT’. The architecture is amazing. The kids are happy to have a new freedom to decide what they want to do with their lives. The Iraqi police are happy to have a new hand in the security and control of their country.

The actual trip back was quite uneventful. I felt the greatest breath of relief when the plane came to a safe landing back in Kuwait City. Upon landing in Boston, the first thing I thought was, ‘I did it’. I did something that no other teenager (not in the military) can say they’ve done. I’ve joined an elite group of journalists who have worked live from a combat zone; and, was the youngest one to do so. It took about 25 minutes to clear customs (which was not bad considering my passport had been stamped in Kuwait and Iraq). My bag was searched – evidently a number of journalists bring back ‘war relics’ including bullet casings, etc. and that sort of souvenir is illegal. Luckily, the only things I brought back were a few Iraqi dinars and a tourist map of Iraq.

I was quite annoyed when I woke up on Monday morning and read that they completed the transfer of power two days ahead of schedule. I was just there, so it was depressing that they did it the day after I left. It would have been amazing to speak with Iraqi’s immediately after the sovereignty was granted.

My mother has recently said to me “I'm a little leery to see what you will come up with next to outdo this!” – Lucky for her, I have not thought of anything. I suspect my next big thing will be college (maybe skydiving this summer as well). Next summer though, I’m sure I’ll come up with a new topic to report on.

Thanks for reading my blog – I hope it gave you a new light into the conflict in Iraq, and shed a new light on how you should view what you see on TV.

-Derek


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