In April 2004, during the first U.S. military offensive in Falluja, an Iraqi friend who worked as a cameraman for Reuters in Baghdad called me on a satellite phone to tell me that Alaa Nouri, a Reuters driver, was dead. They had both been in a car on the outskirts of Falluja, and had suddenly come under fire from a U.S. Bradley fighting vehicle. Alaa had lost control of the car after it was hit by several 7.62 mm machinegun rounds; it veered off the road and crashed into the outer wall of a mosque. Alaa’s colleague told me Alaa had been shot in the head.
I was bureau chief for Reuters in Baghdad at that time. As they heard the news, others in the office started to weep. Some started to walk out of the room. I told them to get back to work. We would grieve for Alaa once we were sure he was dead. Until then, we would do everything to save his life.
I didn’t really believe it myself. It was just a way of stopping the bureau falling apart, and of postponing having to deal with the terrible fact that a friend and colleague had been killed. Continue reading
