BusinessWeek
Sent: Tuesday, April 08, 2003
1:42 AM
In Frederik Balfour's story, "David Bloom's Last
Ride", mostly about Frederik, sadly suggests that the likes
of David Bloom among the "embedded" will be sorely missed.
David was too busy to have shared Frederik's
"despair at the
Army's lack of coordination even as our division penetrates the
very heart of Baghdad", too busy to reflect from the "Div Rear",
his abhorrence of a war "in which other journalists have died
covering this conflict", "soldiers on both sides of the conflict
and the hundreds of Iraqi citizens who have died" and, get ready
for this; "The more I see of war, the more I abhor it". For the
sake of the troops, please return to your Kuwaiti hotel.
APRIL 7, 2003
WAR
IN IRAQ -- REPORTER'S NOTEBOOK
By Frederik Balfour
David Bloom's Last
Ride |
The NBC journalist's death was
possibly caused by the hours he spent reporting cramped in an
Army vehicle -- just another way war kills
|
I
never knew David Bloom when he was alive. He was brought to our
medical tent at the 703rd Battalion of the 3rd Infantry Division
(3ID) shortly before 8 a.m. on Apr. 6. Medics were still performing
CPR on him when he arrived, but it was already too late. At 8:08
a.m. he was pronounced dead. As I was about to head to the medic
station I overheard a soldier phoning in a report, in what I suppose
was meant to be military efficiency. But it struck me as chillingly
terse. "Report: initial. Enemy involvement: none. Name: Bloom,
David. Military unit: civilian. Status: deceased."
Five
short lines to summarize the last day of a man who was, by all
measures, in the prime of life. Already known by millions of
Americans as a co-host of NBC's Weekend Today show, Bloom's
live coverage of the Iraqi war gained him an even wider audience, in
large part because of the "Bloom-mobile." He traveled most of the
time in an armored military-recovery vehicle with a camera mounted
on a gyroscope that allowed it to absorb most of the shocks and
bumps en route. A microwave antenna transmitted his voice and image
to the rest of the NBC crew following several miles behind which
then retransmitted the feed via satellite for broadcast.
FATAL POSITION? The concept
was Bloom's brainchild, and it was working brilliantly. NBC's
viewers were able to follow Bloom and the 3ID as it advanced and
attacked Iraq. He made his broadcasts on the move, while competitors
resorted to traditional stand-ups and video clips. On the night
before his death, Bloom was already planning how to celebrate his
team's performance after the war. He had phoned ahead to London to
try to book rooms at the Metropolitan hotel in the Mayfair district
and a table at Ivy's restaurant.
Tragically, it may have
been the long hours he spent cramped in the Army vehicle that caused
his death. Three days ago, Bloom had complained of cramps behind his
knee. Like most of us journalists "embedded" in the Army, he had
endured days and nights of working, eating, and sleeping in our
vehicles as convoys snaked their way toward Baghdad.
He
consulted military doctors and described his symptoms over the phone
to overseas physicians. They suspected DVT, or deep veinous
thrombosis, and advised him to seek proper medical attention. He
ignored their advice, swallowed some aspirins, and kept on working.
On Sunday he died of a pulmonary embolism.
HANDLED WITH TLC. I learned these medical
details from Lieutenant Colonel Manuel Valentine, who many times
already during this war had briefed me on the circumstances of
deaths surrounding the soldiers whose bodies had been brought to our
division for evacuation. But this one felt different. A fellow
reporter, a father of three, a husband who just moments before
collapsing on Sunday morning, had finished speaking to his wife on
the phone.
I spoke to Sergeant Agnes Poston, who was to
drive Bloom's body to an evacuation point. She explained to me why
she volunteered to become a member of the Army's mortuary affairs
unit. "I want to make sure bodies are taken care of safe and sound
to their families," she said. "That's how I would want it to be just
as if I was going home." I decided then and there that I'd do what I
could to make sure Bloom got the same consideration.
Just
then his producer from NBC, Paul Nassar came up. I introduced myself
and hugged him. He looked drained, devastated. Nassar had been with
Bloom since he collapsed. Until that point I hadn't grieved, truly
grieved over any of the deaths from this war. But then we both
cried.
"I ABHOR IT." I
thought of other journalists who have died covering this conflict. I
thought of Michael Kelly the former editor of The Atlantic
Monthly who died this weekend. I met him only briefly a few days
before the war started. It was blazing hot in the Kuwaiti sun, and I
told him to slap on some sunscreen. Even then it seemed a bit ironic
considering our assignments. I thought of soldiers on both sides of
the conflict and the hundreds of Iraqi citizens who have died. The
more I see of war, the more I abhor it.
Then things swung
into motion. Nassar and I rode together in the back of a truck with
Bloom's body and transferred it to a refrigerated van several
kilometers away and waited for a helicopter. An army chaplain came
and blessed Bloom in the van. Under any other circumstances, the
van's cool air would have made a wonderful respite from the desert
heat. The chaplain recited the 23rd Psalm and read these lines from
Corinthians, Chapter 15: "Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O
death, is your sting?"
As I write this, Bloom's body is
still in Iraq. Though we were told a helicopter was supposed to
evacuate him in the early morning, 18 hours later none has come. It
has been a frustrating wait. The mortuary affairs team of six young
men and women live and work in one large tent apart from the rest of
the soldiers in the bleakest part of the desert for miles around.
Their radio battery is shot and can't be recharged, cutting them off
further from the main body of the Army.
Not for the first
time, I despair at the Army's lack of coordination even as our
division penetrates the very heart of Baghdad. I hope David Bloom
gets home soon.
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