Ivan Nacutchacokov, Embedded in Baghdad
commune foreign correspondent wires story from enemy capital
COMMUNE ART DEPT.
Ivan Nacutchacokov (lower left corner) reports from the about-to-be-war-torn capital of Iraq.
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Foreign correspondent and champion lovemaker Ivan Nacutchacokov reporting, embedded at Baghdad with the 72nd Liquor Battalion. Which is not a true military battalion so much as a group of Iraqis heavily inebriated on 72 cases of wine and holding this reporter captive.
Originally the commune awarded me the assignment of traveling with the 108th Infantry, famous for their chili, a prize won in a raffle at the Washington, D.C. press party. However, growing suspicion’s over this reporter’s Russian background and “too many questions” about where we were and what we were doing led to a confrontation and eventual abandonment outside of Umm Qasar when the battalion moved on to other areas. Left to his own wiles, this reporter might have been fine had he not been found by the self-styled Iraqi defenders engaged in heavy drinking.
It has been a relatively painless five or six days of passing bottles of wine around a windowless bunker since then. Without the reaffirming vision of sunlight or the night outside, coupled with the sleeplessness as bombs and shells continue to wrack the city outside, time has become virtually meaningless to this reporter. Occasional games of Russian roulette with a group of unwashed civilians who don’t speak English also add to the feeling of mayhem.
A small radio broadcasting the movement of U.S. troops as they approach the capital of Iraq is the only source of outside information available, but to listen to the rattling walls, breaking glass, and war-whoops from the surrounding drunken armed men, it’s easy to believe the fighting has already begun here. Details as to what U.S. forces approach and from what direction are currently unavailable, but I can definitely describe the mood in Baghdad as foggy and raucous.
Though the Iraqi military impostors were initially mistrustful and showed extreme prejudice against this reporter, after the first few days they allowed me to be untied. It was at that point I was bricked up into a wall in the unknown Baghdad building I report from, though I thankfully learned enough of their language to convince them to leave a few bricks out so that I may breathe.
With enough ingenuity and an increased proficiency with the language, it is my plan to coax the intoxicated revelers to wire my report to Ramrod Hurley at the commune offices. There may be some confusing passages or grammatical errors, given the possibility of a mistranslation and the difficulty of carving a news report into a brick with a pocket knife, but it does seem to be going surprisingly well so far.
It is a troubling thing, to look the enemy in the face and not be sickened by the smell of wine and vomit. But after the initial terror and nausea subside, one cannot help but feel a kinship with the Iraqi people and a sympathy for their plight. In all likelihood Saddam Hussein will be overthrown and replaced with a more democratic leader, and it should be everyone’s hope that despite years of disagreement all Americans will hope for these people, who have endured so much hardship, to find peace and prosperity under new leadership, as well as seek a 12-step program or something.
In the remaining days before the arrival of U.S. troops, and the intense ground fighting begins, this reporter still has enough time to find out more about the weapons, tactics, and morale of these challenged soldiers, and hopefully can change their mind about the intention to use me as a human shield.
the commune news is never one to scoff at the problems of others, especially when you can snort, sneer, and skiffle. Ivan Nacutchacokov is the commune’s foreign correspondent and has a resilience in the battlefield that belies his tired, crabby whining demeanor.
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