archives

Checkpoints are a way of life in Baghdad--especially if you venture into the Green Zone. That's where the U.S. embassy, senior military officials from both the U.S. and Iraq and other Big Wheels live and work.

To get to the main press briefing room, you go through six to eight inspections, most performed by Peruvian employees of a private contractor called Triple Canopy. Usually, these are routine, and the few words of Spanish I know have made these usually robotic guards break into smiles, especially when they see my California driver's license (thanks again, Lovely Sarah from the Merced DMV).

The only reason you're gettin' besieged by these blogs is that the embed I was hoping to start last Saturday with the 1st Armored Division some 200 miles north of Baghdad has been delayed by weather. By now, I'd hoped to have spent three days with soldiers, the main thing I want to do in Iraq. But a sandstorm of near-biblical proportions over much of the country has turned Iraq into one big no-fly zone. My chopper and fixed-wing aircraft--and mostly all others--have been grounded.