The Pentagon formally released news of the deaths of two soldiers in my battalion today:

The Department of Defense announced today the death of two soldiers who were supporting Operation Iraqi Freedom. They died in Tikrit, Iraq, on Mar. 16, when a mortar round detonated.

Killed were:
Sgt. Amanda N. Pinson, 21, of St. Louis, Mo.

Spc. Carlos M. Gonzalez, 22, of Middletown, N.Y.

Pinson and Gonzalez were assigned to the 101st Military Intelligence Detachment, 501st Special Troops Battalion, 101st Airborne Division (Air Assault), Fort Campbell, Ky.

These two soldiers died when a mortar attack hit Contingency Operating Base Speicher, a large U.S. base north of Tikrit. I lampooned the base last month while I was stuck there on my way to R&R; leave in the states as the "land of the fobbits," perhaps a bit unfairly. This attack reveals, yet again, one of the basic truths about Iraq: there are no front lines; there are no rear areas. There is no sanctuary in Iraq from the dangers of war, including indirect fire. Everyone serving in Iraq faces some degree of risk, whether they serve on the flightline at Balad, in the Green Zone in Baghdad, on a FOB, on an adviser team like mine, or in an infantry unit fighting through Samarra. The risk varies by location and job, of course, but it's always there.

I wrote about this basic truth in a Dec. 2004 op-ed after the SecDef’s infamous comments to soldiers in Kuwait about vehicle armor:

For 40 years, Army doctrine centered on what's known as a linear battlefield. Combat units line up shoulder to shoulder across a broad front to face the enemy, which organizes its units in much the same fashion. Support units operate in relative safety in the rear, with only the occasional enemy infiltration to worry about.

Since the collapse of the Soviet Union, however, the military has slowly recognized that its fundamental assumptions about warfare are being rendered obsolete. In Somalia, American troops faced guerrillas adept at trapping military convoys in ambushes in urban areas. In Bosnia, partisans on both sides used land mines to great effect, making every road a potential hazard. And now in Iraq, the insurgency has transformed the battlefield into one that is both nonlinear and noncontiguous, with sporadic fighting flaring up in isolated spots around the country.

Simply put, there are no more front lines. In slow recognition, the Army purchased light armored vehicles in the late 1990's for its military police to conduct peacekeeping, and more recently spent billions of dollars to outfit several brigades with Stryker medium-weight armored vehicles, which are impervious to most small arms and rocket-propelled grenades and can be deployed anywhere in the world by airplane.

But the fact that there is no longer a front line also means there aren't any more "rear" areas where support units can operate safely. Support units must now be prepared to face the same enemy as the infantry, but are having to do so in trucks with canvas doors and fiberglass hoods because Pentagon procurement planners never expected they'd have to fight.

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The Army (and to a lesser extent the Marine Corps) must reshape its entire force, front to back, to fight the noncontiguous, nonlinear battles. Every vehicle must have sufficient armor to protect its crew; every convoy must have the right mix of light and heavy weapons to protect itself; every unit must be equipped with night-vision goggles and global positioning systems; every soldier must have the skills and training to fight as an infantryman.

I wrote this long before I deployed to Iraq; I believe it even more today. The tragic news about the deaths of SGT Pinson and SPC Gonzalez reminds us that the war can reach us anywhere in Iraq, despite whatever we'd like to think about certain "safe" places in this country. It falls to us, as warriors, to be ready.

Myriad ways exist to cover the Iraq war. Since 2003, the preferred option has been to embed with a U.S. military unit. This lets you get close to the action and the troops in it, although you generally don't have true freedom of maneuver because you're tied to that unit's movements and schedule. If you're slightly more intrepid (or insane), you might choose to cover the war as a unilateral reporter — on your own, out on the battlefield, reporting on both sides or whatever you might come across. Suffice to say, this is a disfavored method these days. A third option is to cover the big picture from Baghdad, from a perch inside the International Zone or on one of the major U.S. military bases there. This lets you cover the war at the level of the generals and policymakers, with the occasional foray out into the city or countryside.

In Night Draws Near, Washington Post reporter Anthony Shadid does all of these things at one point. But he does something more that few American reporters have done during the war, and which none have done as successfully: he covers the war from the perspective of the Iraqi people. Shadid, a Lebanese-American who speaks fluent Arabic, engages the Iraqi people in his reporting, asking them how they feel, writing about their experiences, seeing the war through their eyes. It's a powerful way to tell the story of Iraq.

In one brilliant passage, Shadid follows behind Washington Post colleague Tom Ricks, who's out traveling as an embed with a patrol from the Army's 1st Armored Division. As the soldiers pass, they exchange pleasantries with the Iraqis, who appear to be somewhat friendly, or at least not hostile. Shadid trails the party by about 5-10 minutes, and interviews Iraqis in the patrol's wake. The story changes significantly. The Iraqis, Shadid reports, detest the Americans who just went by, and cannot wait to see their departure. They only wave and return their greetings in order to keep the Americans happy, and to keep them out of their business. Worse yet, Shadid reports on nasty rumors that have taken root about the American soldiers — rumors that their night-vision goggles are capable of seeing through clothing; that U.S. soldiers defile Iraqi women on their bases; that the U.S. will occupy Iraq forever to steal its wealth. Clearly, the war looks different through Iraqi eyes than those of a soldier.

Night Draws Near was published just before I deployed to Iraq. I saw it on the shelf at the Borders in Clarksville, Tenn., and bought it immediately. I felt then that I needed to acquire as much familiarity with Iraq as possible before I came here, and that a book like this would give me some perspective on the war beyond what I was given by the Army. Perhaps because of his reporting, and his extensive interactions with Iraqis, Shadid writes somewhat pessimistically about the American effort here. The book leaves you with the impression that our mission is headed for failure; that despite our mixed record of good and bad, the Iraqis mostly see the bad, and simply want us gone.

Six months into this deployment, it's hard to say whether I agree with that portrayal or not. I've gotten to know a number of Iraqis closely through my work as an adviser, and it's very difficult to generalize their sentiments towards the U.S. Nearly all appreciate what we did to get rid of Saddam in 2003. Notwithstanding that, most still see the golden age of Iraq as the era when Saddam was president in the 1970s — after he nationalized the oil industry and poured money into the country, but before the war with Iran. So they also have a sort of nostalgia for Saddam, and the Iraq that existed before its wars with Iran and the United States.

I've asked a couple of my counterparts whether they'd like to see us stay or go. A few have honestly said they would like to see us go, but not out of anger. Rather, they say it's their country, and their time to fix it. I admire this kind of nationalism and patriotism. Others think we are fanning the flames of the insurgency with our presence, and that leaving would make it easier for the Iraqis to secure themselves. Perhaps. Most say that they appreciate what we're doing here and don’t want us to leave too quickly or too soon — but to leave eventually. I think that's probably as close to a consensus as any that I can find.

Night Draws Near should be required reading for any military leader, diplomat or contractor coming over here. America's future in Iraq depends largely on the Iraqi people, and the choices they make in the next year with respect to their nation's future, the insurgency, and our presence. The news we get from Iraq focuses too much, I think, on the American aspects of the war; so too does our mission preparation. However, you cannot hope to successfully rebuild a nation unless you understand its people. No one book is a panacea in this regard, but this book is a good place to start.