Rhetorical discussions of right and wrong are a pastime of the political enthusiasts inside the beltway of our capital. In Mosul, Iraq, with bullets whizzing overhead and bombs thundering in the far too close distance, many other issues fill the point of focus and become the discussion of every day life.
The Colorado Springs Gazette’s military reporter and Saturday editor, Tom Roeder, had his own ideas of how he thought war and conflict should be covered and in 2004 he boarded a plane bound for Baghdad so he could put his ideas to the test.
“When the war first began, we had a different team over there,” Roeder said. “The war was new and they were covering it from that perspective. I had some different ideas of how to do that.”
Roeder’s divergent approach to reporting from the war zone abandoned traditional journalistic models and retrained the focus to the human side of the conflict. Having strong roots in the military community of Colorado Springs, Roeder initiated a blog on the Gazette’s website to connect readers with their loved-ones that were deployed in Iraq.
“When you’re their hometown paper coming to cover you, they’re a lot more open than they are to the New York Times coming to cover ‘war,’” Roeder said. Because you have a worm’s eye view of the war, you can bring out the individual stories of the soldier. Being an embed [embedded journalist] is a horrible way to cover war, but a great way to cover people . . . and what the average GI goes through. What is a combat patrol like? Where are they living?”
Luckily for Roeder, he writes for the Gazette, not the Times and he enjoys the opportunity to provide a very different angle of coverage of the war.
“I worked with an editor that was a veteran military reporter so she had a good idea of what I was walking in to,” Roeder said. “She was very supportive of what I was doing.”
Soldiers connected to Roeder through his previous service as Petty Officer in the “Jamaican Navy” – more properly known as the U.S. Coast Guard Reserve.
Readers could connect with Roeder and learn not just how their husband or sister’s unit was doing, but in many cases, they could get direct, personal accounts of what their loved-one was working on. The comments on his posts demonstrate the appreciation the community has shown for his efforts.
While his readership was generous with gratitude for his reporting, some of his posts led to outrage back home. When Roeder exposed the disparity in living conditions between the well-fortified Camp Victory and the muddy camp in Taji, military families were quick to question why their son or daughter was stuck in a mud pit while others enjoyed more western living standards.
“Conditions are not what people think they are down range,” Maj. Mike Humphreys said. “These bases were like cities. There were western style hospitals and medical care. You didn’t hear anything. It was like being on Ft. Carson.”
Maj. Humphreys is charged with coordinating public affairs for the 3rd Brigade Combat Team in the 4th Infantry Division of the Army. It is his duty to ensure the soldiers have the information required to fulfill their duties, to handle media requests from news organizations and to assist with community relations, as necessary.
Thus, Maj. Humphreys and Mr. Roeder would cross paths many times in Iraq. Maj. Humphreys helped ensure Roeder was in the right place to obtain the coverage he desired and he enjoyed having him along to report on the work of his men.
“When we get the big names coming in, we get the hand in the face when we try to get them to stay in the area and spend the time necessary to properly cover units that are scattered across 300 miles in 13 different bases,” Maj. Humphreys said. “It just doesn’t work that way.”
Roeder got to Taji, made camp in the mud and took a seat playing cards and talking with the soldiers he had come to know back home at Fort Carson.
“My first day at Taji, it snowed,” Roeder said. “Baghdad hadn’t seen snow in five decades. Luckily I’d been covering this unit for years so I knew all of the people involved.”
It was never Roeder’s mission to delve into the politics that surround Operation Iraqi Freedom. Instead, he was in Iraq to provide a different insight into how a war is fought.
Sgt. Andrew Gordon of the 1st Infantry Division of the 8th Battalion was an appreciative veteran that had Roeder stationed with his unit in Balad, Iraq.
“I think he’s one of the better ones I’ve seen over there,” Sgt. Gordon said. “He’s one of the few people I’ve met that doesn’t care about this side or the other, he just pulls the story out straight.”
Maj. Humphreys, who has seen two tours in Iraq, dealt with many reporters that had different inspirations than Roeder.
“When hostilities broke out, everyone wanted to get into Sadr City and get a story on it,” Maj. Humphreys said. “Some reporters were not willing to negotiate and it is not possible to get someone in and out in a day. We had a rule that you must spend at least three days in Sadr City. We also rotated them out on the fourth day so we were not overloaded and reporters could all get access to the area.”
The battle for the big story could get quite heated for Maj. Humphreys. Ensuring reporters safety and security were only the first issues he faced.
“At times you get agencies making requests that you simply can’t provide them and I have to say ‘sorry, its simply not going on here,’” Maj. Humphreys said. “Tom and I have had our differences too and we’ve had our falling outs . . . but I’m very appreciative of what Tom does.”
In addition to working with western media, Maj. Humphreys also worked to build the local press corp of Iraq. He explained to locals through interpreters the motives of the Coalition Forces and how they were accomplishing these goals.
Roeder’s unique approach has earned attention beyond the soldiers he reports on. In 2004, the Colorado Press Association awarded him and photographer David Bitton their top award for their work. He would be returning to Iraq if it weren’t for the poor economy’s impact on the Gazette’s budget. He also wants to see Afghanistan and report on the troops’ progress there.
“We were headed to Iraq earlier this year but we had to turn down that trip. The insurance for a trip is $32,000 alone. That’s a body, that’s a job and in this economy, you really have to think about that.”
But Roeder’s passion is for reporting and he does not equivocate his desires.
“If I were in charge here, I would spend a lot more time over there.”
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Monday, March 9, 2009
The Hippie Goes to War
There was no blood shed in Bill O’Reilly’s culture war. There was no laying in front of tanks or throwing shoes at Presidents. I didn’t kill any Hezbollah or Taliban and I even spared the cougars that were on the prowl. For two days of jaw-dropping exposure, I was treated to an in-depth tour of the military industry that makes Colorado Springs the second biggest city in Colorado.
Yes, our own government did a background check on me (a commanding general of Northcom admitted to reading all 40 of our profiles) and still let my war-hating ass come along. Along the tour, we saw 100 million dollar rocket assembled at Lockheed Martin, shot e-Haaji in the 2 million dollar version of Halo at Ft. Carson, got attacked by the K9 unit at Peterson AFB and learned how all of it is tied together in the launching ground for missions to Iraq, Afghanistan, the ionosphere, the moon and places they weren’t at liberty to divulge.
Through a program offered at the University of Colorado, I am getting a tour of Colorado’s economy one segment at a time. In February, we took a crash course on the workings of state government and enjoyed lectures from the President of CU Lloyd Benson, state Rep. Paul Weissman, state Sen. Josh Penry, Mayor Hickenlooper, Supreme Court Justice Nancy Rice and others with less impressive titles. If you want to get political about things, head over to barackoutwithmycockout.blogspot.com, if you want to hear about what Halo is like from the driver’s seat of a real Hummer, keep reading.
So, on Thursday morning we gathered on the southern end of Denver and embarked on our tour of all things astronomically expensive. First stop: Lockheed Martin, home of the bus rides our garmins’ satellites enjoy on their way to work. At Lockheed we tolerated a boring presentation from their PR guy as he stood in the path between the conference room we were herded into and the facilities where the rockets came together.
After viewing his pretty slide show, we made our way to the assembly yard and stood behind the red line as we observed 100 million dollar vehicles to space be assembled. In addition to the mind-boggling precision these massive creations were built to, even more mind-numbing to ponder is the cost involved in the placement of the satellites we have come to rely on to fully enjoy life.
Each one of these rockets cost 100 million. Each of these rockets carries precisely one satellite into orbit. Think about how many satellites there are circling the globe ensuring uninterrupted service for our TVs (unless you’re stuck with Comcast), GPSs and taking endless pictures for Google. That 100 million doesn’t include one penny of the R&D for the satellite that will relay the data that it is being sent into space for. . . . where is this money coming from?! And that 100 mil is for a single shot. No re-using nothing! One and done.
The cool part everyone came for
Ok, enough ogling massive phalli’s, there were somehow even more cool things to see and we were off to Colorado Springs. After we picked up our official escort, we entered the gates of Ft. Carson army base and made our way to the CCTT – the Close Combat Tactical Training center. In the center we sat down to a teasing lecture from a junior officer about the mission of the installation and grilled him with a thousand questions laced with political undertones.
“Excuse me sir. What are we looking at on this screen over here?” – I’d be trying to figure out the mess of blue and red icons that were scattered across it the whole time he told us about the base. “You’re about to find out.” And we did. He quickly tired of explaining to us that he would not comment on such sensitive manners and finally turned us loose on the whole CCTT facility.
Myself, Lem from Mississippi and sweet little Lindsey headed through a maze of boxes and out to a fancy pristine white trailer. What could this trailer have in it? Oh! A 360-degree projection screen surrounding a humvee full of everything an army ranger would have access to. Lem took the turret, Lindsey cocked the M-16 and I grabbed the wheel and we were off to mow down illegal enemy combatants.
Imagine playing Halo on the biggest screen you’ve ever seen. Now drop the plastic controller that vibrates when you shoot and pick up a real wheel, a real pedal and a real berretta. When you unloaded the cartridge, you didn’t hit Y and wait for it to reload, you popped the clip out, loaded a new one back in it, removed the safety and went back to work. When you found something worthy of a little lead, you lined up the site and felt a real kick as you took out the threat.
(Hmmm, I wonder what will happen if I ram that truck up there. . . ) Answer: Lem almost takes a dive from the impact and shaking of the vehicle and the steering is drastically encumbered by the CV joint you almost snapped in half. The humvee groaned and popped just like a car that had been in a head-on collision would have. Also, true to US military form, Lindsey’s M-16 jammed as soon as she held it up to her shoulder. The simulator was so realistic the man guiding us through the simulation told us of veteran of Operation Mess-O-Potamia that went into flashbacks while participating in a simulated fire fight. He also spoke about complaints from other vets that complained that the streets of Baghdad in the simulation bored them because they had been down them on patrol so many times before.
No, hell no the fun isn’t over yet. Despite being forced to leave the humvee behind, we were far from finished enjoying the best training equipment our tax dollars can buy. Any Halo player knows that the alliance doesn’t just have a Warthog, it also has a much bigger gun. We went back inside and discovered what were in those weird boxes we’d passed by.
To the M1 Abrams simulator we went. Since I had chauffeured our unit around in the humvee, I was put on the cannon. . . . bad choice. M1 Abrams are made for little Napoleons, not full grown 6’3’’ men. Nevertheless, I still followed commander Lindsey’s orders and lit up our target.
As one would expect, it was all brought to an end far far too soon. We were due at our next destination, which would naturally prove not nearly as entertaining as the simulated battle field. But we learned about the Colorado Springs economy, dined on a feast for a king and drank an open bar dry.
Day 2: More fun
Friday morning started with a karmic gift. The second presenter that talked with us over breakfast was Tom Roeder of the Colorado Springs Gazette. Yea, a newspaper reporter . . . big deal, right? Wrong. Tom’s claim to fame comes from three tours of embedded reporting from Iraq. In addition to the interesting tales he shared with us, he agreed to the be the subject of the original news story I am required to write for another class I am taking at CU. The story of his work will be online shortly.
After Tom saved my ass from lacking a story idea, Jim Painter of Northrup Grumman stepped up to the mic and told us about the other half of the equation that works with those 100 million dollar rockets from Lockheed Martin. The one sticking quote from him was that the satellites placed on top of those rockets cost in the “hundreds of millions of dollars range” to develop and produce.
There in the jeep!
We chowed down on one more exquisite meal and departed for Peterson AFB to meet with the commanders of our national defense systems. No, the public facilities that they allow dirty peacenik hippies from Boulder into is not located in Cheyenne Mountain. Instead it is out east of town of town on Peterson.
We left our cell phones, pagers and cameras on the bus and entered Building #2, the home of Norad and USNorthcom. In a conference room straight out of Patriot Games, General Bordelon and his Lieutenants briefed us on the mission of USNorthcom and how it has evolved since an air strike came from within our borders. Again, we fired off question after question that were met with denials based in the necessity of national security.
Half way through the briefing a cell phone went off. I don’t know if it belonged to a member of our group or one of the employees at the facility, but as soon as it rang the General fiercely snapped “don’t answer it!” If the fatigues or the presenter’s professional request of “next slide please” for every slide didn’t tip us off that they meant business, that certainly. When one of my classmates asked Lockheed Martin “what would happen if I tried to take a picture” they responded that the photog would quickly have guns in their face as they were escorted to the authorities. I laughed at Lockheed’s statements, but I don’t doubt for a second that the General would have had me on the floor with a knee in my back had I tried to get clever.
Not a bad two-day tour of the most amazing portions of the Springs, but there was one stop left. We left Building #2 and headed over to quite a mundane indescript building after leaving a palace. As we approached the building, I could feel the lack of hair on the back of my neck begin to stand at attention and my spider sense told me danger was afoot. In this building the army K9 unit was housed. In the building’s back yard we assembled along the fence and watched a beautiful black German Shepherd latch on to a fleeing man. This dog seemed to be a more mellow, well-trained animal compared to the stories of the other dogs they described that wouldn’t release their victims without the use of a shock collar to pry them off.
We’ve all seen police dogs. I’m not scared of any cuddly little police dog after seeing these mean bastards do their work. As soon as a soldier strapped on the padded jacket that the dog could attack, the animal was at full attention ready for the fun it was about to have (the trainings to the dogs were play time). When his commander help his arm up straight pointing at the target, the dog went berserk jumping up and down, barking at the soon-to-be victim. And the second it was release, it put every last bit of its might and energy into chasing down the fleeing enemy and bringing him to justice.
Nevermind the fact that Iraqis hate dogs. In addition to the fact that these animals were twice the size of any dog they’d ever seen, they were unapologetically vicious. We had heard reporter Tom speak about the Iraqi kids and how they are constantly coming up to troops screaming “mista mista” with a hand out looking for candy. The troops loved the dogs because there was never a kid in site when they had their beast tagging along with them.
But the time playing with the pooches wouldn’t be complete without some hands on interaction. No, we didn’t get to pet them. We got to put on the padded armor and let the dogs bring us back to justice. Sorry, but I did not hog the opportunity – I allowed my fellow classmates to experience the exhilarating thrill I felt this summer when dogs united in opposition to my existence.
It was the most jam-packed two days of learning anyone could ever hope to enjoy. My question for every lecture we received and every opportunity we had was “if I weren’t in this class, how would I as an ordinary civilian obtain access to such a tour?” The answer: “you wouldn’t.” I apologize for not having pictures handy to corroborate all of the tales. Of the areas where photography is allowed, photos will eventually be added, but not until the distant future.
So, for everyone that says I’m a dirty, blind to the opposition hippie, I would like to know what you think it is like to sit down with the directors of NORAD after fighting through the desert of Iraq. Were my political views changed? No, absolutely not in the least. Growing up near a military base, there were many nights that I laid in bed wondering in the rumblings in the distance were claps of thunder or blasts of artillery shell test bombs. I quickly concluded that such a massive blast heard from so many miles away had to cost a pretty penny and surely wasn’t reusable. Thus, I have always supported utilizing technology to create reusable training devices. I am happy we’ve created such realistic simulators.
I eagerly await my forth-coming interview with reporter Tom and will post the final product here. He spoke to us about the human side of war he witnessed and the connecting role he played linking the stories of his soldiers with their friends and family back home. It will be fascinating to learn about its importance and place it in comparison to the academic media ideals.
Yes, our own government did a background check on me (a commanding general of Northcom admitted to reading all 40 of our profiles) and still let my war-hating ass come along. Along the tour, we saw 100 million dollar rocket assembled at Lockheed Martin, shot e-Haaji in the 2 million dollar version of Halo at Ft. Carson, got attacked by the K9 unit at Peterson AFB and learned how all of it is tied together in the launching ground for missions to Iraq, Afghanistan, the ionosphere, the moon and places they weren’t at liberty to divulge.
Through a program offered at the University of Colorado, I am getting a tour of Colorado’s economy one segment at a time. In February, we took a crash course on the workings of state government and enjoyed lectures from the President of CU Lloyd Benson, state Rep. Paul Weissman, state Sen. Josh Penry, Mayor Hickenlooper, Supreme Court Justice Nancy Rice and others with less impressive titles. If you want to get political about things, head over to barackoutwithmycockout.blogspot.com, if you want to hear about what Halo is like from the driver’s seat of a real Hummer, keep reading.
So, on Thursday morning we gathered on the southern end of Denver and embarked on our tour of all things astronomically expensive. First stop: Lockheed Martin, home of the bus rides our garmins’ satellites enjoy on their way to work. At Lockheed we tolerated a boring presentation from their PR guy as he stood in the path between the conference room we were herded into and the facilities where the rockets came together.
After viewing his pretty slide show, we made our way to the assembly yard and stood behind the red line as we observed 100 million dollar vehicles to space be assembled. In addition to the mind-boggling precision these massive creations were built to, even more mind-numbing to ponder is the cost involved in the placement of the satellites we have come to rely on to fully enjoy life.
Each one of these rockets cost 100 million. Each of these rockets carries precisely one satellite into orbit. Think about how many satellites there are circling the globe ensuring uninterrupted service for our TVs (unless you’re stuck with Comcast), GPSs and taking endless pictures for Google. That 100 million doesn’t include one penny of the R&D for the satellite that will relay the data that it is being sent into space for. . . . where is this money coming from?! And that 100 mil is for a single shot. No re-using nothing! One and done.
The cool part everyone came for
Ok, enough ogling massive phalli’s, there were somehow even more cool things to see and we were off to Colorado Springs. After we picked up our official escort, we entered the gates of Ft. Carson army base and made our way to the CCTT – the Close Combat Tactical Training center. In the center we sat down to a teasing lecture from a junior officer about the mission of the installation and grilled him with a thousand questions laced with political undertones.
“Excuse me sir. What are we looking at on this screen over here?” – I’d be trying to figure out the mess of blue and red icons that were scattered across it the whole time he told us about the base. “You’re about to find out.” And we did. He quickly tired of explaining to us that he would not comment on such sensitive manners and finally turned us loose on the whole CCTT facility.
Myself, Lem from Mississippi and sweet little Lindsey headed through a maze of boxes and out to a fancy pristine white trailer. What could this trailer have in it? Oh! A 360-degree projection screen surrounding a humvee full of everything an army ranger would have access to. Lem took the turret, Lindsey cocked the M-16 and I grabbed the wheel and we were off to mow down illegal enemy combatants.
Imagine playing Halo on the biggest screen you’ve ever seen. Now drop the plastic controller that vibrates when you shoot and pick up a real wheel, a real pedal and a real berretta. When you unloaded the cartridge, you didn’t hit Y and wait for it to reload, you popped the clip out, loaded a new one back in it, removed the safety and went back to work. When you found something worthy of a little lead, you lined up the site and felt a real kick as you took out the threat.
(Hmmm, I wonder what will happen if I ram that truck up there. . . ) Answer: Lem almost takes a dive from the impact and shaking of the vehicle and the steering is drastically encumbered by the CV joint you almost snapped in half. The humvee groaned and popped just like a car that had been in a head-on collision would have. Also, true to US military form, Lindsey’s M-16 jammed as soon as she held it up to her shoulder. The simulator was so realistic the man guiding us through the simulation told us of veteran of Operation Mess-O-Potamia that went into flashbacks while participating in a simulated fire fight. He also spoke about complaints from other vets that complained that the streets of Baghdad in the simulation bored them because they had been down them on patrol so many times before.
No, hell no the fun isn’t over yet. Despite being forced to leave the humvee behind, we were far from finished enjoying the best training equipment our tax dollars can buy. Any Halo player knows that the alliance doesn’t just have a Warthog, it also has a much bigger gun. We went back inside and discovered what were in those weird boxes we’d passed by.
To the M1 Abrams simulator we went. Since I had chauffeured our unit around in the humvee, I was put on the cannon. . . . bad choice. M1 Abrams are made for little Napoleons, not full grown 6’3’’ men. Nevertheless, I still followed commander Lindsey’s orders and lit up our target.
As one would expect, it was all brought to an end far far too soon. We were due at our next destination, which would naturally prove not nearly as entertaining as the simulated battle field. But we learned about the Colorado Springs economy, dined on a feast for a king and drank an open bar dry.
Day 2: More fun
Friday morning started with a karmic gift. The second presenter that talked with us over breakfast was Tom Roeder of the Colorado Springs Gazette. Yea, a newspaper reporter . . . big deal, right? Wrong. Tom’s claim to fame comes from three tours of embedded reporting from Iraq. In addition to the interesting tales he shared with us, he agreed to the be the subject of the original news story I am required to write for another class I am taking at CU. The story of his work will be online shortly.
After Tom saved my ass from lacking a story idea, Jim Painter of Northrup Grumman stepped up to the mic and told us about the other half of the equation that works with those 100 million dollar rockets from Lockheed Martin. The one sticking quote from him was that the satellites placed on top of those rockets cost in the “hundreds of millions of dollars range” to develop and produce.
There in the jeep!
We chowed down on one more exquisite meal and departed for Peterson AFB to meet with the commanders of our national defense systems. No, the public facilities that they allow dirty peacenik hippies from Boulder into is not located in Cheyenne Mountain. Instead it is out east of town of town on Peterson.
We left our cell phones, pagers and cameras on the bus and entered Building #2, the home of Norad and USNorthcom. In a conference room straight out of Patriot Games, General Bordelon and his Lieutenants briefed us on the mission of USNorthcom and how it has evolved since an air strike came from within our borders. Again, we fired off question after question that were met with denials based in the necessity of national security.
Half way through the briefing a cell phone went off. I don’t know if it belonged to a member of our group or one of the employees at the facility, but as soon as it rang the General fiercely snapped “don’t answer it!” If the fatigues or the presenter’s professional request of “next slide please” for every slide didn’t tip us off that they meant business, that certainly. When one of my classmates asked Lockheed Martin “what would happen if I tried to take a picture” they responded that the photog would quickly have guns in their face as they were escorted to the authorities. I laughed at Lockheed’s statements, but I don’t doubt for a second that the General would have had me on the floor with a knee in my back had I tried to get clever.
Not a bad two-day tour of the most amazing portions of the Springs, but there was one stop left. We left Building #2 and headed over to quite a mundane indescript building after leaving a palace. As we approached the building, I could feel the lack of hair on the back of my neck begin to stand at attention and my spider sense told me danger was afoot. In this building the army K9 unit was housed. In the building’s back yard we assembled along the fence and watched a beautiful black German Shepherd latch on to a fleeing man. This dog seemed to be a more mellow, well-trained animal compared to the stories of the other dogs they described that wouldn’t release their victims without the use of a shock collar to pry them off.
We’ve all seen police dogs. I’m not scared of any cuddly little police dog after seeing these mean bastards do their work. As soon as a soldier strapped on the padded jacket that the dog could attack, the animal was at full attention ready for the fun it was about to have (the trainings to the dogs were play time). When his commander help his arm up straight pointing at the target, the dog went berserk jumping up and down, barking at the soon-to-be victim. And the second it was release, it put every last bit of its might and energy into chasing down the fleeing enemy and bringing him to justice.
Nevermind the fact that Iraqis hate dogs. In addition to the fact that these animals were twice the size of any dog they’d ever seen, they were unapologetically vicious. We had heard reporter Tom speak about the Iraqi kids and how they are constantly coming up to troops screaming “mista mista” with a hand out looking for candy. The troops loved the dogs because there was never a kid in site when they had their beast tagging along with them.
But the time playing with the pooches wouldn’t be complete without some hands on interaction. No, we didn’t get to pet them. We got to put on the padded armor and let the dogs bring us back to justice. Sorry, but I did not hog the opportunity – I allowed my fellow classmates to experience the exhilarating thrill I felt this summer when dogs united in opposition to my existence.
It was the most jam-packed two days of learning anyone could ever hope to enjoy. My question for every lecture we received and every opportunity we had was “if I weren’t in this class, how would I as an ordinary civilian obtain access to such a tour?” The answer: “you wouldn’t.” I apologize for not having pictures handy to corroborate all of the tales. Of the areas where photography is allowed, photos will eventually be added, but not until the distant future.
So, for everyone that says I’m a dirty, blind to the opposition hippie, I would like to know what you think it is like to sit down with the directors of NORAD after fighting through the desert of Iraq. Were my political views changed? No, absolutely not in the least. Growing up near a military base, there were many nights that I laid in bed wondering in the rumblings in the distance were claps of thunder or blasts of artillery shell test bombs. I quickly concluded that such a massive blast heard from so many miles away had to cost a pretty penny and surely wasn’t reusable. Thus, I have always supported utilizing technology to create reusable training devices. I am happy we’ve created such realistic simulators.
I eagerly await my forth-coming interview with reporter Tom and will post the final product here. He spoke to us about the human side of war he witnessed and the connecting role he played linking the stories of his soldiers with their friends and family back home. It will be fascinating to learn about its importance and place it in comparison to the academic media ideals.
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