BLOG: INDIRECT FIRE: Bad to good

  • Published
  • By Staff Sgt. Jakcob Richmond
  • 355th Fighter Wing
JOINT BASE BALAD, Iraq --  I got to work yesterday already feeling buried with tasks that needed my attention. Then, before I could get three sips from my fresh cup of coffee, the phone rang. I was summoned to cover a story at the Air Force Theater Hospital right away. I knew there was a VIP touring the facility, but until that phone call, the last I heard was that it was a photo-only job.

I don't like being involuntarily diverted from my plans. I don't like showing up to cover stories with no background information. I don't like being torn away from my morning coffee and missing breakfast. I left our office frustrated and ornery.

When I arrived, I took some of the involved people aside and got a rough idea of what was going on. I found out that the VIP was the deputy governor of the local Iraqi province that encompasses our base. Whaddya know, I thought. This could turn into a really good story. I wondered briefly why I didn't have more information on it to begin with, but the question no longer mattered. With multiple agencies involved in such events, I'm pretty accustomed to the normal communication breakdowns.

I was introduced to an American gentleman who's the leader of the Provincial Reconstruction Team assigned to this province. PRTs are the primary liaisons to local governments - they lead all civil-affairs efforts in the area - so he had all the background information I needed. He told me how the deputy governor's desire to improve health care for his people led to the coordination of the visit to the AFTH; he also emphasized that his personal opinion of the man was high. The more I learned, the more my attitude improved.

The deputy governor's staff told me my request to interview him was granted; I told them we would conduct it on-camera after lunch. I started jotting down my questions as I followed the touring party through the hospital, feeling a genuine desire to find out his answers.

The idea of improving the health care system for local Iraqis made me think about the story I just wrote about the little girl who was recently saved by Americans here at the base. I thought about whether she would have survived if the American hospital weren't here.

As if on cue, the tour stopped in the intermediate care ward, and I realized everyone was gathered around a hospital bed. I got closer and saw the bed's inhabitant was a very, very young Iraqi boy. He instantly and strongly reminded me of my almost-2-year-old son. This boy was probably a little older, but he couldn't have been three yet.

He lay there, torso raised slightly up, neither his head nor his legs coming anywhere near reaching the ends of the bed. He had his hands clasped, unmoving, on his belly. His expression was alert, but placid - a contemplative face I've seen on my son many times before. But I couldn't help thinking there was something else about the way his eyes moved from visitor to visitor, and then looked at nothing at all. His face seemed to communicate his own deep knowledge that he, young as he was, just didn't belong in a hospital bed with none of his family around him.

After the deputy governor talked to the boy - with genuine compassion, I should add - everyone started walking away. I couldn't help asking one of the doctors what happened to the kid. With the matter-of-fact delivery of someone who long ago learned to remove emotion from his duty, he told me the boy was shot in the stomach. The bullet destroyed his kidney and hit his spinal cord. He was paralyzed from the waist down.

I'm not trying to be dramatic, but those words really hit me hard right then. Maybe it was because of how close in age he was to my own boy, but either way, I honestly had to ask myself whether I'd be able to get my mind right enough to stay with the tour and finish the job.

In the end, though, thinking about it just made me want to talk to the deputy governor even more. Cases like the little boy's (and the little girl I wrote about before) were almost certainly in the man's consideration when he decided to tackle the health care issues his people are facing. My mind got right.

When it came time for the interview, I realized I'd never done a no-kidding, on-camera interview with anyone of stature. The feeling, however transient, of being a bona fide TV reporter made me smile sardonically. But the topic of discussion was a truly important one. It also dawned on me that this Iraqi public official had probably never sat down with an American journalist, either. All he knew about me was that I was going to write a story about him and share it with both my audience and his own.

We sat down and talked to each other. And I noted that we did, in fact, look each other in the eye, despite our words being exchanged via an interpreter. He told me, with an understated passion and commitment, how and why he was dedicated to helping his people - starting with the most basic of needs. He told me how grateful he was for the consistent help his office gets from the PRT. He emphasized how honored he was to be welcomed to the base. He made it clear that he was deeply impressed by how generous the hospital staff was with their time, and how patient they were with their explanations.

He said that his visit here made him both happy and sad. He was excited to see the possibilities that existed to provide medical care for people, but the contrast also made him realize how far behind Iraq's technology and training were. But overall, he struck me as a man with sincere intentions, a sense of purpose, and a willingness to work creatively to make good things happen for his country-in-transition.

If Iraq has enough leaders like this, I thought, I think they'll be just fine.

He seemed to appreciate what I was doing, too. He took the time to answer my questions thoughtfully, he laughed at the mood-lightening jokes I made through the interpreter, and he shook my hand resolutely when it was over. When I left a little while later, he returned my wave, smiled and put his hand to his heart - a genuine cultural gesture of personal approval. It meant a lot.

The footage of the interview will be shared with the local Iraqi media. If I'm being optimistic, I might think that maybe I asked a really good question or two, which prompted insightful answers from the deputy governor, which the local outlets will use in their news broadcasts, which will be seen by the local citizens, which will maybe give them just a little bit more confidence during this evolution of their political and civil process. That's a pleasant thought.

It makes me hope the Iraqi citizens know what I was reminded of yesterday: A non-ideal beginning doesn't preclude a happy ending. 

Staff Sgt. Jacob Richmond is a member of the 355th Figther Wing Public Affairs office at Davis-Monthan Air Force Base, Ariz., deployed to Joint Base Balad, Iraq. He will be blogging throughout his deployment, and sharing his story with the Arizona Daily Star.