To: RetiredNow who wrote (215410 ) 1/19/2005 6:04:18 PM From: tejek Respond to of 1574070 Christian Science Monitor Posted January 19, 2005 A rude awakening By Dan Murphy It was a little after 7 a.m. in Baghdad. Locked into an anxious dream one minute, I was sitting bolt-upright the next, and, I think, screaming. My bed was showered with glass shards and there were shouts and confusion outside. I’ve been back in country since New Year’s Eve and, as with every time I resubmerge into Baghdad, there’s been a long adjustment period. I have been in and out since September 2003. Each time I return, the footprint that it’s safe to travel in feels smaller. Most foreign journalists don’t leave Baghdad now, since insurgent checkpoints mushroom often and unpredictably. A foreigner, or any Iraqi with a foreigner, doesn’t stand much chance of making it through the ring of peril around Baghdad. But you can get used to anything. I’ve ditched the beard I usually wear here for a mustache that our driver assures makes me “look Iraqi ... well, maybe Turkish.’’ I have also adopted a local wardrobe: dark local pants, a rather hideous plaid shirt, and a checkered headscarf. These measures make me feel like I blend in and I’ve been getting out onto the street and talking to more Iraqis. But feelings of safety dissipate quickly in the new Iraq. This morning’s rude awakening was a truck bomb. No surprise, I guess. But at first I thought it had hit our relatively secure compound. I quickly threw on some pants and headed out. All of the windows in our lobby were gone, and most of the hotels on our narrow street were in similar shape. A group of Indians who have been stranded in my hotel for weeks after a contractor cancelled their work were already sweeping the glass and debris from the floor, helping the Iraqi staff. Out on the main road I saw that the bomb had in fact hit about 200 yards away, at the half-finished building that serves as the main Australian outpost in Baghdad. All that was left of the truck was two burning tires, one still stuck to half an axle that survived the blast. The Australian soldiers inside the building were fine. But two bystanders were killed: a homeless man, who used to drift around our compound living on handouts from foreigners and shop owners, and another Iraqi man, who was crossing the street with his wife. Someone on the scene before me said that she didn’t have a scratch on her, but she was wailing. Two other car bombs, coordinated with this attack, echoed around Baghdad at about the same time. An hour later another went off. All told, about 26 Iraqis were killed. After watching for a few minutes, I drifted back to the hotel – there wasn’t much to do, or sense to make out of the bomb. Such attacks have become an almost daily occurrence. The US 1st Infantry Division (ID) was in force at the scene, locking it down and keeping onlookers back. Though the US often talks about handing more and more security authority to Iraqis, US forces still bear the brunt of the work when the insurgents strike. Before I left the scene, a hulking member of the 1st ID came running towards me, his riot shotgun held by the barrel and ready to smash my camera. Feeling that having my windows blown out gave me some right to be there, I said: “Hey man, back off.” He looked startled, but told me I had to clear out. A few minutes later he came up to me and apologized. “Look, I didn’t know who you were. Pictures are real money makers for the terrorists.” I nodded. One piece of good news at least – maybe the mustache is working. January 19, 2005 in Security | By Dan Murphy | Permalink blogs.csmonitor.com