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Time to once again open my life up a little in order to share the plethora of wealth I'm about to absorb. I'm going to be back in Iraq through September, so hop on board and check back every couple of days, I'll do my best to update as much as possible. Questions? dtate38@cox.net And check out the site I'm working with: http://www.billroggio.com Support independent journalism!
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
Sunday, August 28, 2004 1800
Kabul
The explosion was at least a few klicks to the north and I needed to move about a klick and a half to get home. Mind you, I have an olive shirt on with tan, military pants that are bloused. Plus, I have U.S. desert-style combat boots on, a flak jacket and am loaded down with a backpack and fanny pack. The backpack is fall hunter's style camoflauge. I start to sweat. Whether it was fact or not (probably was), I felt like I was shrinking under the heavy gazes.... TAXI!
It didn't take too long to get a taxi, which zipped me up the street in no time. Cab driver tried to gouge me double the normal fare, which ended as I handed him a 50 Afghani and say, "Do you know how long I've lived here?".
At the house the gate was wide open and Abdullah and Qubon were there. Abdullah, in a very unexcited tone told me the guys were at an explosion. He took me out front, showed me the smoke and went back inside to whatever he was doing.
"Get Ahmet on the phone." Ten minutes later, "He says they're on their way." I wanted them to leave a guy at the scene, but since I didn't get the call, that didn't happen. Turned out that would have been impossible anyway, based on the events that came to be. At this time I still had no update on what was going on. Of course the guys think I'm in Herat. Oopps.
The guys get back and start feeding in the first set of pictures and scripts. I start working on a script of my own and continue monitoring the wires and working the guys to get their contacts' insight. Before long we hear a rumour of another explosion in central downtown (which is not realy much of a downtown, but it is usually packed with people.) Ahmed decides Abdullah and I should respond. I tell him thanks, but he and Abdullah would respond, while I continued working the original bomb. About five minutes later, the second bomb turned out to be a false lead. Soon after, we're on our way toward the original scene and night has fallen.
On the way FOX calls and needs some live phoners... in seven minutes! Holy crap! "No problem... I'm still in the car, though." "No, I haven't been to the scene, but will be shortly... I've seen the tapes??"
We zip down the side road near the cinema that takes us straight to where my former-internet cafe was. I had heard it was in this area and was once again very happy we finally had the internet.
We let out right at the cafe and there's German APC's blocking the road. I immediately head toward the main intersection checking it out as fast as I can. Intersections in Afghanistan tend to be these round-a-bout type of things. There's monument in the middle and four lanes of traffic flow into this circle around the monument, then flow out when they get to their desired street. It's truly organised chaos with no signals or rules.
Today, the round-a-bout at this particular intersection was filled with mostly German ISAF troops in armored personnel carriers, keeping everyone on the far side of the road, a group primarily made up of journalists. From where we stood, glass in all the surrounding buildings had shattered, the street was lined with it. I look around for Abdullah and there he is enjoying the calamity, camera in bag. "Start shooting, Abdullah." "Huh?... Oh!" So he pulls out his camera and starts shooting like a tourist. 10 seconds later, an APC T-bones a car trying to drive fast through the maze of vehicles. It's literally 10 meters to Abdullah's right. Not even the sound of the impact could shake his focus from whatever it was he was shooting (like a tourist).
Our preliminary report is that 4 Americans and 3 Afghans are dead. We also hear that the bomb rocked a building or house that is used by the private U.S. security firm, DynCorp. FOX is calling and I'm trying to establish a decent signal, which is difficult. That, and the noise, and things were not getting off to a good start. Three times as I'm trying to do this phoner, I get chased away by ISAF troops, twice by APC's. I wasn't that they were literally chasing me, just for some reason, wherever I wanted to stand, an APC or jeep wanted to drive. Needless to say, the call didn't seem to ge well, which obviously was a bummer.
Still dressed up like a CIA agent, I decide to take advantage of it and successfully made it to within 40 meters of the site. At one point while in the perimeter I sat on a flower planter to write notes. A German on top his APC yelled something down to me, which I didn't hear, so I used the always safe, "Bitte?" He doesn't say anything, so I go back to writing. That's whne he shinned his light on me. So I got up and walked up to his APC and said the very safe, "Was ist los?? Meaning, "What's the matter?" "Oh nothing..." he says. "I was just looking at your boots." As if that confirmed my identity. It did to him.
A few minutes later, Ahmed starts up the walk and we hook back up. We walk through the lines as if we're supposed to be there and no one bothers us. At the scene, we split up, both collecting as much information as we can. At this point Ahmed's camera is still slung behind his back. It's kind of like being in a minefield;
you never know when you're going to take your last step.
We watch the mayhem for a bit. Finally, Ahmed starts shooting some discreet video. Crowded into this neighborhood are new a few hundred police, ISAF and U.S. troops plus a platoon of DynCorp guys. It turns out the bomb went off in front of their office, killing six, icluding three Americans. The office that was destroyed was where DynCorp helped the German Army in training the Afghan National Police.
After about an hour, another German soldier approached and told us we had to leave, "It's very dangerous here..." Really? Not as dangerous as it is outside the security perimeter I just got thrown out of. We decide we have enough pictures and info to file a follow up, so we cut our profit and roll. Besides, we have clients needing live services.
As I write and edit, the rest of the crew is working with German, Russian and Iranian clients. Most are feeds, but we also do a live shot from the roof. I complete my stories and feed, then wait for my last FOX phoner, which is scheduled two hours later. After that, it's bed time. Time is 1:00 AM.
Kabul
The explosion was at least a few klicks to the north and I needed to move about a klick and a half to get home. Mind you, I have an olive shirt on with tan, military pants that are bloused. Plus, I have U.S. desert-style combat boots on, a flak jacket and am loaded down with a backpack and fanny pack. The backpack is fall hunter's style camoflauge. I start to sweat. Whether it was fact or not (probably was), I felt like I was shrinking under the heavy gazes.... TAXI!
It didn't take too long to get a taxi, which zipped me up the street in no time. Cab driver tried to gouge me double the normal fare, which ended as I handed him a 50 Afghani and say, "Do you know how long I've lived here?".
At the house the gate was wide open and Abdullah and Qubon were there. Abdullah, in a very unexcited tone told me the guys were at an explosion. He took me out front, showed me the smoke and went back inside to whatever he was doing.
"Get Ahmet on the phone." Ten minutes later, "He says they're on their way." I wanted them to leave a guy at the scene, but since I didn't get the call, that didn't happen. Turned out that would have been impossible anyway, based on the events that came to be. At this time I still had no update on what was going on. Of course the guys think I'm in Herat. Oopps.
The guys get back and start feeding in the first set of pictures and scripts. I start working on a script of my own and continue monitoring the wires and working the guys to get their contacts' insight. Before long we hear a rumour of another explosion in central downtown (which is not realy much of a downtown, but it is usually packed with people.) Ahmed decides Abdullah and I should respond. I tell him thanks, but he and Abdullah would respond, while I continued working the original bomb. About five minutes later, the second bomb turned out to be a false lead. Soon after, we're on our way toward the original scene and night has fallen.
On the way FOX calls and needs some live phoners... in seven minutes! Holy crap! "No problem... I'm still in the car, though."
We zip down the side road near the cinema that takes us straight to where my former-internet cafe was. I had heard it was in this area and was once again very happy we finally had the internet.
We let out right at the cafe and there's German APC's blocking the road. I immediately head toward the main intersection checking it out as fast as I can. Intersections in Afghanistan tend to be these round-a-bout type of things. There's monument in the middle and four lanes of traffic flow into this circle around the monument, then flow out when they get to their desired street. It's truly organised chaos with no signals or rules.
Today, the round-a-bout at this particular intersection was filled with mostly German ISAF troops in armored personnel carriers, keeping everyone on the far side of the road, a group primarily made up of journalists. From where we stood, glass in all the surrounding buildings had shattered, the street was lined with it. I look around for Abdullah and there he is enjoying the calamity, camera in bag. "Start shooting, Abdullah." "Huh?... Oh!" So he pulls out his camera and starts shooting like a tourist. 10 seconds later, an APC T-bones a car trying to drive fast through the maze of vehicles. It's literally 10 meters to Abdullah's right. Not even the sound of the impact could shake his focus from whatever it was he was shooting (like a tourist).
Our preliminary report is that 4 Americans and 3 Afghans are dead. We also hear that the bomb rocked a building or house that is used by the private U.S. security firm, DynCorp. FOX is calling and I'm trying to establish a decent signal, which is difficult. That, and the noise, and things were not getting off to a good start. Three times as I'm trying to do this phoner, I get chased away by ISAF troops, twice by APC's. I wasn't that they were literally chasing me, just for some reason, wherever I wanted to stand, an APC or jeep wanted to drive. Needless to say, the call didn't seem to ge well, which obviously was a bummer.
Still dressed up like a CIA agent, I decide to take advantage of it and successfully made it to within 40 meters of the site. At one point while in the perimeter I sat on a flower planter to write notes. A German on top his APC yelled something down to me, which I didn't hear, so I used the always safe, "Bitte?" He doesn't say anything, so I go back to writing. That's whne he shinned his light on me. So I got up and walked up to his APC and said the very safe, "Was ist los?? Meaning, "What's the matter?" "Oh nothing..." he says. "I was just looking at your boots." As if that confirmed my identity. It did to him.
A few minutes later, Ahmed starts up the walk and we hook back up. We walk through the lines as if we're supposed to be there and no one bothers us. At the scene, we split up, both collecting as much information as we can. At this point Ahmed's camera is still slung behind his back. It's kind of like being in a minefield;
you never know when you're going to take your last step.
We watch the mayhem for a bit. Finally, Ahmed starts shooting some discreet video. Crowded into this neighborhood are new a few hundred police, ISAF and U.S. troops plus a platoon of DynCorp guys. It turns out the bomb went off in front of their office, killing six, icluding three Americans. The office that was destroyed was where DynCorp helped the German Army in training the Afghan National Police.
After about an hour, another German soldier approached and told us we had to leave, "It's very dangerous here..." Really? Not as dangerous as it is outside the security perimeter I just got thrown out of. We decide we have enough pictures and info to file a follow up, so we cut our profit and roll. Besides, we have clients needing live services.
As I write and edit, the rest of the crew is working with German, Russian and Iranian clients. Most are feeds, but we also do a live shot from the roof. I complete my stories and feed, then wait for my last FOX phoner, which is scheduled two hours later. After that, it's bed time. Time is 1:00 AM.
