Reporting from Iraq

This trip has been different than my visit to northern Iraq last winter.

The circumstances, the moods, the environment are different. So has been my work. It’s easy to see I haven’t written a story each day. Since I’ve been here, it’s been a struggle to write even a blog entry each day.

This was not my intention, nor likely my editors. When I left for this assignment, I thought, like last time, that each day, each patrol would bring something new and newsworthy.

Each day is newsworthy for the 172nd, but for much larger reasons than a single patrol. Each day is newsworthy because they’re still here, in Iraq, instead of Alaska or across the country visiting family and friends during what should have been their block leave time. Instead, they are playing a continued role in Iraq and on the streets of Baghdad.

When I arrived here, I quickly realized my stories and reports would have to go beyond the daily grind. As many soldiers said, referring to two of my more featurey stories from last trip, this time its about more than tattoos and glow-in-the-dark golf.

So instead I’ve tried to capture what is important to them and their families and the role they’ve been asked to play during their additional 120-day stay.

Mainly, that consists of their concern for their families, their disappointment but stalwartness in being extended, the work they are being asked to do here and the effect they’re having.

Those things are more complex than a day’s patrol.

Take the mood for example. Many families and readers have asked, “How do the soldiers feel about the extension?”

It’s a fair question, one of concern. But there are 3,900 answers to that question. There is no word, or general terms that can encompass each emotion the soldiers have. I can say the most common reaction I’ve come across is one of disappointment, accompanied by a shake of the head and shrug of the soldiers, followed often by a “what are ya gonna do?” acceptance.

They aren’t an overly dramatic or expressive bunch.

They’re weary, but keep working. There are more gray hairs, but they still find things to laugh at. They’ve replayed their story countless times this year for media that has tagged along with them asking the same questions, but they graciously repeat their answers without a hint of annoyance.

Brigade commander Col. Michael Shields prefers to call them, all of them, professionals.

No one emotion can categorized all the soldiers. This isn’t a political poll and the margin of error is too great.

Once I got here and surveyed the scene and atmosphere I was working in, I took on another role, a reporter not only for the News-Miner but passing on news about Fairbanks to the soldiers became a regular part of my day. The time spent answering questions of the soldiers didn’t net stories or photos, but I enjoyed talking about the weather, the town and the local reaction to the extension many soldiers wondered about.

Many were surprised to hear how amped up Fairbanks was for the brigade’s return. I told them about the welcome home signs that lined the fence at Fort Wainwright from the front gate at the Richardson Highway to Bassett Army Hospital and how local businesses had displayed welcome home signs around town. That news surprised even Shields.

“I didn‚t know that,” he said in casual conversation. “I hope they do that again for when we come home.”

I told him that when the time finally comes, I don’t think he has to worry about the brigade being welcomed home with gusto.

I told soldiers how news of the extension traveled the national radio waves, newspapers and TV news, a point that often caused grimaces as soldiers detailed how many of their families had to hear the news from media rather than the soldiers themselves.

Some asked about Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld’s visit to Fairbanks and his meeting with family members. I told them I saw a video of the meeting and described how some of the wives asked challenging questions. Some soldiers couldn’t help but crack a smile at that and mumble an “Atta girl,” though I respect the fine line they must walk and honor their “but don’t quote me on that.”

Discussion of Fairbanks and Alaska and the things soldiers miss about it have yielded an array of interesting comments, but here’s two that convey a common theme:

“I’m looking forward to getting back home, even though it’s going to be winter,” said Staff Sgt. Rayez Alvarez with support battalion. “That’s one thing I’m not going to complain about anymore.”

The disappointment of missing fishing and hunting season is also common.

“There’s a lot of moose and caribou alive right now because we’re still here,” said Maj. Jonathon Fox.

So while I didn’t write as much as I do on a daily basis or as much as my editors, and I, had anticipated on this trip, I was a reporter more hours of the day than I’ve ever been. And as I struggle with technical difficulties at the end of my stay, I also bring home a few more stories and photos that will appear in the News-Miner as soon as the jet lag wears off.

I hope the readers and soldiers got a little something from this trip, that I was able to help connect some dots between Alaska and Iraq, to put a face, some names, some personality, some reality on what the 172nd does on a daily basis.

Like the first trip, I’m leaving Iraq with more questions than answers about this war and a new respect for soldiers, their families and Iraqis. I hope this experience makes me a better military reporter during the rest of the 172nd’s time in Iraq, after they come home, and as the state faces future deployments of military forces.

Many of the soldiers here are keeping in mind the Alaska National Guard as they prepare to deploy here for a year.

And after having to decline many lucrative offers to try to fit soldiers into my suitcase, or request an escort home, we’ve signed off with, “Be safe and see you soon,” as we say our goodbyes and I head to Kuwait and back to Fairbanks.

Hopefully, the 172nd isn’t far behind me.