I’m writing this morning from a US military base in Kuwait. I know the name of the base but one of the ground rules for my stay here is that I don’t disclose it. I’m also not supposed to describe what it looks like but I believe I can safely say this much: it is tan. All of it – the ground, the sky, even the soldiers in their pixilated desert camouflage uniforms. It’s a big, tan, 24-hour truck stop for people on their way somewhere.
Speaking of which, my first roll-call for my flight to Baghdad is at 3 pm. It’s sort of like flying standby, except that if I don’t make this flight, my name will move up the list until I do. Once there, I will either travel by helicopter or bus (the ‘rhino’) to the Green Zone, where I meet a fresh new set of press people.
