I was able to get on Skype and talk to Mandy without having to worry about time restrictions.  On my embed I’d used the same phone centers as everyone else, with a 25-minute limit.  Between talking to Mandy for a while and having a chance to hang out with some of my journalist friends I realized how isolating it is to spend a solid month embedded.  That’s no knock on the Marines.  From the guys with the Air Wing at al Asad to the CASEVAC guys at al Taqaddum to the guys from 1-7 at al Qaim I found everyone to be friendly and remarkably laid-back about having a journalist hanging around.  Given the wailing and teeth-gnashing in the States over the war and how it’s being covered people may assume embedded reporters get the cold shoulder from soldiers and Marines in the field.  I’ve never found that to be the case.

Maybe they grumble behind my back, and maybe reporters only end up with media-friendly units.  And, obviously, they may keep their true feelings to themselves if they worry a journalist might retaliate with a negative story.  But I think soldiers and Marines, while they care about how they’re perceived back home, are more focused on doing their jobs.  Maybe they don’t like “the media” as an abstract entity, but they don’t care so much that they’ll freeze out or be rude to an individual reporter for no reason.  When you’re just hanging around with a squad or platoon of Marines many of the men are in their late teens or early twenties.  They’re disciplined, highly competent and have experienced war, but they’re still very young.  They aren’t world-weary or cynical, and they aren’t all that interested in politics.  And while they’re astoundingly (and entertainingly) profane and don’t have much time for bullshit, Marines are also generally fair and friendly guys.  A few times soldiers or Marines have started discussions with me about press coverage and their problems with it, but never in a nasty way.

Of course, maybe part of the reason they’re eager to hang out and chat with me is that I’m a novelty.  Most of the guys I embed with have been in the same place and with the same people (more or less) for months.  Their insularity while deployed can be isolating for me.  One of the things that impresses me about the Marine Corps is the fierce pride these guys have as Marines.  Not as members of the US military or as members of specific Marine units (though, obviously, that pride is there as well), but as Marines.  Soldiers wear patches identifying them with particular units (82nd Airborne, 1st Infantry, etc.).  Marines’ uniforms display only rank, name, and “U.S. Marines.”  At the battle positions in al Qaim, where Iraqi soldiers live and work with Marines, the Iraqi flag flies instead of the American flag.  But at many of the BPs the Marine Corps flag—red, with a yellow globe and anchor—flies as well.

I don’t think Marines look at me, or other reporters, and consciously think, “I’m a Marine, and he’s not.”  But that’s not the point.  They are Marines, and I’m not.  I can live amongst them for a few days or weeks, I can develop genuinely warm relationships with many of them, but there will always be a strict separation between who I am and who they are, between what I do and what they do.  The rank structure, the uniforms, the 13 weeks of basic training, the shared danger and shared duty over a period of many months, the vocabulary of Marine slang and military acronyms—I cover a culture from an outsider’s standpoint when I’m embedded just as I do when I’m out among Iraqis.  The closest I came to feeling a part of that world was when I got shot at with a group of Marines; at that moment we were all experiencing the same thing.  Even then, though, after that first instant of surprise they went about their job and I went about mine (hint:  my job was the one that allowed me to remain prone until the danger had passed).

By the time I got back to the Hamra I’d spent 32 days without seeing anyone I wasn’t meeting for the first time (with the exception of an Estonian officer I saw Tuesday at Camp Victory—it turns out we met last January or February while I was on my way back from covering the election up in Mosul).  I needed a break to get some writing done, but it’s also good to decompress with friends before diving back into another embed.  When Baghdad becomes the place you go to relax and hang out with friends, maybe a reassessment of life and career goals is in order.  I’m putting that off for the time being.