Wednesday February 21, 2007
The Guardian
A few weeks before the handover of sovereignty, CPA staffers gathered by the palace pool for a farewell barbecue. Everyone was there, except the Iraqis working in the palace. Nobody had told them to stay away. They just did. Halliburton brought out hot dogs, burgers, grilled chicken and corn on the cob, served by the crisply uniformed Indians and Pakistanis who worked in the dining hall. Blackwater, the private security firm that had the lucrative contract to guard the viceroy, provided the booze.
For the occasion, military officers waived General Order 1, which prohibited soldiers from consuming alcohol. Nineteen-year-old privates got hammered and dived into the pool. It felt like a college graduation party. It was a last chance to say goodbye, to exchange email addresses, to take a group photo. Some looked back on their time in Baghdad with regret. Others laughed and slapped one another on the back. They had done a great job. They were heroes.
After an hour or so, a CPA press officer noticed two journalists in the crowd. She pulled them aside. "Who invited you here?" she barked. "What are you doing here? No press is allowed here."
The journalists said they had been invited by a CPA staffer. The press officer told the journalists to stay put while she consulted with a superior. She returned a few minutes later with a handheld video camera. Kicking them out might cause a scene and would inevitably result in a story. The journalists could stay, but they would have to promise on tape that they wouldn't write about what they saw.
more:
http://www.guardian.co.uk/Iraq/Story/0,,2017790,00.html