Shachtman wrote the following diary entries in Wired's Danger Room blog while reporting from Iraq.
Iraq Diary: Endless Journey to the Green Zone | August 24, 2007 | 1:55:13 PM
It's not simple, getting to Baghdad. To start, you wait it out for 36 hours, minimum, in Kuwait's phantom outpost. Then, once the pixie dust has been spread over your passport, and all the proper paper has been pushed, you pack your bags, head over to the makeshift flight terminal... and get ready to be treated like cargo yourself.
Iraq Diary: No Showers, No Toilet, No Problem | August 26, 2007 | 3:30:34 PM
The Marines of Fox Company, 1st Platoon, literally don't have a pot to piss in. Staying in a makeshift police station at the northeastern end of Fallujah, they fill bottles instead — and load up plastic "wag bags," draped around netted toilets, when they need to turn around.
Iraq Diary: Fallujah's Biometric Gates (Updated) | August 31, 2007 | 4:12:00 PM
The Marines have walled off Fallujah, and closed the city's roads to traffic. The only way in is to have a badge. And the only way to get a badge is to have Marines snap your picture, scan your irises, and take all ten of your fingerprints. Only then can you get into the city.
Iraq Diary: Anbar's Boys in Blue | September 02, 2007 | 9:10:00 AM
Safa is a bent soda straw of a kid — 16 years old, tops, with a wisp of hair above his upper lip. He's wearing a light blue shirt, and an AK-47 slung over his shoulder. The shirt means he's a member of the local neighborhood watch in Fallujah — the eyes and ears of the police and the Marines here. And that entitles him to the automatic weapon.
Iraq Diary: Shame and Honor in Fallujah | September 04, 2007 | 11:00:00 AM
Even the most hard-headed American commanders have lost interest in trying to blast Iraqi insurgents into submission. Now, the focus is on winning the hearts and minds of the people — so they'll give up the insurgents living in their midst.
Iraq Diary: Baghdad's Glamorous Life | September 05, 2007 | 8:00:00 AM
I'm sitting on a gilded chair, writing on a gilded table. The floors beneath me are marble, and the chandeliers above are sparkly and crystal. The only reminder that I'm in a war zone is the pair of man-high concrete barriers I can see out my window. "It's Sunday, man, you're working too hard," a national guardsmen just told me. Welcome to Baghdad.
Iraq Diary: Sleep Through Those Bombs | September 06, 2007 | 10:42:00 AM
The first time he was blown up, Sergeant Mike Crenshaw didn't even notice. It was May, on a small road near Taji, north of Baghdad. "We were doing route clearance" — sweeping the road for bombs — "when we heard rocks raining down on us. Then we get a call on the radio, asking us if we were OK. We were like, 'Hunh? Did something happen?'"
Iraqi Diary: The Boneyard of Taji | September 07, 2007 | 9:39:00 AM
Saddam stored his armor and his trucks at Taji, north of Baghdad. So when U.S. forces began destroying those vehicles, they began to pile their husks at the depot here, too. Russian, American, British, and French gear all rusts under the sun, in a stretch of desert local troops call "the Boneyard."
Iraq Diary: Why Jake Volunteered for a Third Tour | September 10, 2007 | 11:37:00 AM
Everybody knows Iraq is just about the worst place on the planet. So why the hell would Sergeant First Class Jake Holland to volunteer to come back here, for a third time?
Iraq Diary: Jammers Beat Bombers (Which May Be Bad News) | September 18, 2007 | 2:06:00 AM
Radio-controlled bombs used to be the biggest killer of American troops in Iraq. Now, they've been rendered all-but-useless. Good news, right? Like so much else in Iraq, it's not quite that simple.
Iraq Diary: The Stink of Tarmiyah | September 19, 2007 | 11:21:00 PM
Not that long ago, I was living about as large as you can in Iraq, lounging in Baghdad's palace-turned-VIP-hotel along a green, fish-filled lake. And I was hating life.
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