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Saturday, November 17, 2007

Marine Lance Corporal James Blake Miller makes headlines in the UK

Cover Story

Am I to blame for his private war?


Luis Sinco
Sunday November 18, 2007
The Observer


The young marine lit a cigarette and let it dangle. White smoke wafted around his helmet. His face was smeared with war paint. Blood trickled from his right ear and the bridge of his nose. Momentarily deafened by cannon blasts, he didn't know the shooting had stopped. He stared at the sunrise. His expression caught my eye. To me, it said terrified, exhausted and glad just to be alive. I recognised that look because that's how I felt too. I raised my camera and snapped a few shots.

With the click of a shutter, Marine Lance Corporal James Blake Miller, a country boy from Kentucky, became an emblem of the war in Iraq. The image would change two lives - his and mine.

I was embedded with Charlie Company of the 1st Battalion, 8th Marine Regiment, as it entered Falluja, an insurgent stronghold in Iraq's Sunni Triangle, on 8 November 2004.
We encountered heavy fire almost immediately. We were pinned down all night at a traffic circle, where a six-inch kerb offered the only protection. I hunkered down in the gutter that endless night, praying for daylight, trying hard to make myself small. A cold rain came down. I cursed the Marines' illumination flares that wafted slowly earthward, making us wait an eternity for darkness to return.

At dawn, the gunfire and explosions subsided. A white phosphorus artillery round burst overhead, showering blazing-hot tendrils. We came across three insurgents lying in the street, two of them dead, their blood mixing with rain. The third, a wiry Arab youth, tried to mouth a few words. All I could think was: 'Buddy, you're already dead.'

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