After the great sleuth work on the site with Kaloogian's phony picture of Baghdad, I got curious about the "Truth Tour". It was really a pathetic effort to further scam their audiences while they were in the safest possible conditions.
I don't think the "Truth Tour" had anytime to enjoy the peace and quiet of Baghdad while taking tourtisty pictures (as a result I can see why the street scene was from Turkey and its replacement is taken from on high - probably from the safety of the Green Zone).
Reviewing the initial agenda(below)and reading one of the reports, it sounded like they were in Baghdad (and Iraq) for all of 2 of the 10 days. (They may be conservatives but they are not totally crazy with their own safety). They went from the airport to the green zone and maybe ventured out once in very heavily equiped vehicles. I wasn't sure if the trip out was also the return run back to the airport.
As part of the AM radio crowd they brought on this trip was Melanie Morgan of KSFO. You have to read her whole report to get all the great news that the MSM is not bringing back home about how safe Iraq has gotten, how rebuilt the place is and how the Iraqis are recovering. She perhaps earns a 3 on the the Bush "hecka of a job" scale ( and that only for the great care the soldiers are taking of that poor girl). You be the judge though.
"Riding Shotgun on the Highway of Death"
We finally broke away from Camp Victory, where 8,000 troops are stationed north of Baghdad. After asking repeatedly to go into the Green Zone and away from relative safety, Central Command finally relented, only because of the direct intervention of Captain Daniel Green, a quirky Atlantan with a quick wit, who enlisted the aid of his Commanding Officer Lt. Colonel Roth. Roth cut through all the red tape because he's angry at the obvious disconnect between the situation on the ground in Iraq and what is coming out of the mainstream media, and he wasn't hesitant to say so for the record. He wanted us to tell the world what his troops are doing and how the Iraqi army is making dramatic strides in training with U.S. forces. Captain Green choppered into Camp Victory to meet us personally, and escort us back to Camp Prosperity, (inside the Green Zone of Baghdad) which is actually one of Saddam Hussein's many palaces. It's called the Four Headed Palace, because there were four marble heads of Hussein, perched on top of the marble turrets, visible for miles. All were blown off in the J-Dam bombing of the palace during the original Iraqi Freedom operations. We got pictures of the headless Hussein's lying on the palace grounds.
Immediately, we became friends with the garrulous Dr. Green, only one of four Surgeons assigned to the Iraqi theatre. All medical aid is given by medics and PA's, or Physician Assistants. The most badly wounded (including Iraqis) are given life-saving treatment and then flown out to Germany where there is state- of-the- art medical services.
Together, we set off for Camp Stryker, which shuttles groups of contractors, army personnel and other visitors. Some of our group stayed behind. Those of us who opted for the ride into the Green Zone were subject to intense security precautions, including a frightening middle-of -the-night ride along the Highway of Death. The `Rino' busses are heavily armored to prevent suicide bombers from killing us -the convoy was lead by the HumVees, manned by twenty -something soldiers who by day were making life and death decisions, and at night playing video games to pass the time. The buses motored to a stop at a security checkpoint in downtown Baghdad, where we all got a stretch and a chance to use our satellite phones to report back to the United States. Next, we hopped into an open- air truck where I did a live report at 5:00 a.m. for my radio station, as the wind cooled us from the 105-degree temperatures while we drove in the sleeping city.
I napped for an hour on a couch outside the tactical control room inside the palace. There were giant Star Wars video monitors and computers humming away, logging in all the `hot locations' in Baghdad, directing patrols, and gathering intelligence. I was shaken awake by the company Public Affairs Officer, Major Alayne Conway. She assigned me to accompany an `up-armored' HumVee patrol. An up-armored vehicle is a HumVee that has been re-fitted for extra steel plates on the underside and outside to protect the soldiers inside. Congressional critics and the Blame America First crowd are criticizing the army because of a lack of `up-armoring', but that's yet another myth the mainstream media is perpetuating. No patrol is allowed to leave base without the extra protection. It's the rules and the rules are strictly followed.
My fellow talker Michael Graham of WMAL in Washington, D.C. headed out with another HumVee patrol. Our destination: Route Irish, also known as the Highway Of Death. Graham, a former stand-up comedian, came up with all the gallows humor, hitting the punch line every time. Our escorts belly-laughed.
It's a gift.
The guys who took us on patrol are quite simply the most amazing young men I've ever met. Sgt. Jay Perkins, PFC Adam Smith, and Staff Sgt. Matthew Miller. Smith is a 20-year old veteran of these dangerous patrols and has been wounded twice, and given two purple hearts. Miller was hit twice, too.
As PFC Smith turned the key and warmed the computers, Sgt. Miller announced "Lock and Load"...all rifles at the ready. Then, panic broke out. "Where is she? Smith, what did you do with her?" Miller responded, "Did you lose her? You were supposed to watch her!" Confused, I looked around. Were they talking about me? "Perkins, what happened to Beaver?" Now I'm really lost. Reaching down under the seat, Smith hauled out a stuffed toy, a Beaver. Everyone had to rub it, including me. "Our fuzzy Beaver brings good luck. We never leave for patrol without petting her, that way we don't get killed", said Perkins. The fuzzy beaver lost and now found allowed us to proceed.
When we turned out of the gate from Camp Prosperity, we headed north back the way we came in. The temperatures were now 125 degrees. We rolled along slowly, with the gunner swiveling his gun in the turret in a continuous sweep.
I peppered my patrol escort with questions about whether it was worth it--the cost of lives, the excruciating heat, the time away from their families. I practically begged them to give me bad news--I wanted to know how they really felt about their service. To the man, (and woman) all were proud to be doing the job they signed up for. I couldn't trick them into any criticism of the War on Terror. All were re-enlistees. They explained to me they want the American public to understand that if `we find and kill insurgents here, we won't be fighting this kind of war at home where all of our families would be at risk.'
Just a short ways into the ride, you could hear small arms fire. And then a bus of Iraqi men broke down in front of us. That's when the talk stopped, and everyone went on heightened alert. Blaring their sirens and yelling through the loudspeaker, Sgt. Miller instructed everyone to get off the Highway. "Do it, do it, do it now. I'm having a FINE Wednesday and I don't want to have to shoot y'all."
The HumVees ahead and behind did U-turns in an evasive action, in case the Iraqi's were planting IED's, or improvised explosive devices. Miller and Perkins jumped out of the vehicles with rifles ready to shoot anyone who made a suspicious move. After securing the area, they jumped back in and we started rolling again. Every bump to the undercarriage made my stomach lurch. Was it a rock, or a bomb?
The patrol seemed to last hours, although we were on the road about an hour. We pulled into our Forward Operating Base where the ride was over.
BLONDE ON BASE
The word spread quickly that I was in the area. Suddenly soldiers were everywhere, talking to me and telling me their stories. When a member of the California National Guard Unit arrived, he asked me to walk over to NightStalker, the Guard's headquarters. Lt. Cameron Murphy of San Jose rushed over to shake my hand. He thanked me profusely for coming. His wife e-mailed him about the Truth Tour, and he e-mailed all of his troops and asking them to come talk to me. Everyone had something important to say. Poignant, searing and thoughtful insights about why they are here to fight, die and make peace. The California National Guard has the highest rate of casualties of all Guard Units. Many of these men had friends who are now dead, crippled or recovering from their wounds.
A wall-sized map of Baghdad was displayed in the conference room. A list of Humanitarian projects was posted next to it, with the dollar amount spent on each re-construction project. The list was too long to remember, but I do recall the total spent in their area of responsibility--$1.3 billion dollars. Sewer systems, bridge repair, hospital improvements, electricity, and more. Not sexy headline news for the mainstream media, but it was news to me. And incredibly exciting that our military was actually improving and stabilizing the economy and the everyday lives of Iraqi's.
Lt. Murphy dragged me over to his laptop computer and sat me down. He pulled up these amazing photos of a small girl named Hara. He told me that she was caught in crossfire between the insurgents and American forces. Her sister was killed. She was badly wounded. Her parents took her to Iraqi Doctors who bandaged her and sent her home to recuperate. As her leg wounds healed, they fused together. Back to the Iraqi Doctors who broke her legs, leaving her in searing pain. He told me how her parents then flagged down his patrol, and they rushed her to American Doctors. These Doc's gave her the first rate medical treatment she needed, and she began months of rehabilitation with some of the finest Physical Therapists America can offer. She is slowly learning to walk again. The NightStalkers have adopted her and her family, sending money and hope that her life and that of her family will get better. I cried. Lt. Murphy, a muscled 6'5 inch trained killer--cried too.
I asked him to write a narrative about this story -the kind we don't read enough about in the elite newspapers of this country--and I promised to post it on our website, and shout this good news to everyone I can think of. He pumped my hand up and down in gratitude.