ONLINE EXCLUSIVE
Live From Iraq: Women War Journalists in the Line of Fire
By Della de Lafuente

Three news correspondents tell PINK about chasing news in the combat zone and why they go after the story in places where most fear to tread.

Lara Logan, chief foreign correspondent, CBS News and 60 Minutes
(pictured above)

HER ASSIGNMENT: My job is to help viewers understand what is really happening and make sure the important things are not forgotten. When I came back to the U.S. after being in Ramadi, I was struck by how far apart the two worlds were and how hard it was for people in New York to understand how much soldiers and Marines in Iraq are sacrificing. I think it's important that we don't forget that.

WHY SHE DOES IT: I believe in the media's responsibility to see events unfold and share that with the [viewers who] can make informed decisions. I feel a sense of duty and responsibility to the American public, the soldiers, the Iraqis, but I also feel privileged to tell this story.

THE RISKS: In Iraq, I can't walk across the street to go interview someone or drive downtown to see what the mood is or rush to the scene of a car bomb to assess the damage. I go to many dangerous places – but there are some areas and some things I cannot do because I am a foreigner. I have to rely on Iraqi colleagues to go to those places and gather the information I'm not able to gather myself. Otherwise, I [could] get them – and myself – killed.

HER TOUGHEST DAYS: When my friend and colleague from Reuters Television, Taras Protsyuk, was killed by a U.S. tank shell fired at the Palestine Hotel, where the media was operating during the initial war. And after two of my CBS colleagues were killed and correspondent Kimberly Dozier was seriously injured, getting on with my work after suffering such a terrible loss was unbelievably hard. If you are expected to deliver on deadline, then you have no choice. But part of you just wants to shut down and never move again.

SAFETY FACTOR: There are many times I don't feel safe at all; I go to Iraq with full knowledge of the risks involved. Bombs and bullets do not discriminate. You never know which car is packed with explosives or which inch of pavement is about to explode. American soldiers – and Iraqis – die there every single day and so can reporters.

BRAVE HEART: It's not about courage. You never think you are being brave; you are only doing what you believe is right. You follow your heart and keep your wits about you hoping luck will be on your side.

Teri Okita, Los Angeles correspondent, CBS Newspath

HER ASSIGNMENT: The first time I reported from Iraq was in April 2003 just after Saddam Hussein's fall. Our reporting was about the transformation, how Iraqis were handling their newfound freedom and how coalition soldiers were holding up. After that, I went to Iraq December 2003 when Saddam was captured; in June 2004 for two weeks for the handover of power to the transitional Iraqi government; and in January 2005 for the first election.

WHY SHE DOES IT: Few stories have been more fulfilling to me than interviewing Iraqis who had just voted for the first time. We were literally seeing history unfold before our eyes. It's that sense of excitement and historical perspective that makes me want to go back – despite the dangers. Plus, I come from a military family.

THE RISKS: You can't let your guard down at all! I felt vulnerable once because I was a woman. We went to a predominantly Shi'a town, where they were very religious. I was dressed in jeans, a t-shirt and work boots. At one point, the crowd of all men closed in on us as we were shooting. I don't think they'd ever seen a Western woman reporter in person before. They were never violent or threatening, just curious. I'm sure if we were in that situation today, things might be different.

LIVE FROM THE WAR ZONE: I never questioned why I went to Iraq – even when guns went off outside our hotel or when I could hear bombs exploding in the distance. I was in the middle of a live-shot one afternoon when a sniper's gunfire went off in what seemed like the building next to our hotel. I was caught between continuing my live-shot and ducking for cover. In the end, we finished the live-shot but I didn't stick around for long after that!

PROFILE IN COURAGE: It was never a question of courage. Having grown up in a military family, I've been around this my whole life. I discussed taking this assignment with my father – who spent 26 years in the army – my mother and siblings, and we all agreed that this was something I needed to do – despite the risks. Just as my [men in my family] all had a calling to serve in the military, we felt it was my duty as a journalist to go get the story.

Arwa Damon, correspondent, CNN's Baghdad Bureau

HER ASSIGNMENT: I've been there since two weeks before the war started. About 75 to 80 percent of my time has been embedded with the troops. I've also done major operations in Najaf, Fallujah, Samarra, western Anbar and up and down the Euphrates River valley.

WHY SHE DOES IT: When I'm not there, it's where I want to be. Iraq gets under your skin; what's happening there really grips those who have been there for awhile. I'm half American and half Syrian. So I was drawn to Iraq from the very beginning because both my halves are part of this dynamic. Then I fell in love with Baghdad. For me, it's that you see the [best and] worst that people can do to one another.

THE RISKS: You can operate in a certain way in Iraq and be relatively safe. But there's just such an unpredictable element of violence there. You can't control the IEDs; you can't control the car bombs; and sometimes it's really just dumb luck that saves you. I was in a Humvee that was hit by an IED; a fraction of a second and all of us in the Humvee would have been dead. But we weren't. I was lucky.

HER TOUGHEST DAY: I was by myself in Husayba – near the Syrian border – during Operation Steel Curtain in November 2005. One day we came under attack a number of times and RPGs [rocket propelled grenades] were flying over our heads and I decided to move with a platoon going into the house where they believed the fire was coming from. Before that I was on a roof top near where a number of air-strikes were launched on different locations. It started to look like a movie as we went through, moved forward to this house and ran across an open field – seeing fire-fights on each side.

TWO DAYS LATER: The fighting calmed down enough that the Iraqi army was able to walk me to another part of town. And where do I end up? In the neighborhood hit by those air strikes that I'd been watching. We went to one house and there were seven bodies – four women and three men. Then we went to another house, and there 17 bodies buried under the rubble. As we got closer, the residents got a little aggressive to the U.S. forces and the Iraqi army, so we left. About two hours later, the neighborhood leader came to find us to apologize. He said, "Can you please come back? We want you to tell our story." And he asked the Iraqi army to escort the bodies to the cemetery. So we went back the next morning.

UP TO THIS POINT: I'd kept it together. But they had already uncovered the [bodies of women and children] and shown them to us. And they were looking for one last body – a 9-year-old boy. The gentleman digging up the body was someone I met [during] the fighting. Muhammad was the only person in the entire year I'd been in western Anbar who admitted to insurgents/terrorists being in this town. He said on camera to CNN, knowing that it was going to be broadcast: we want them to save us from the terrorists. And his extended family was buried under the rubble of this air strike. He finally found and pulled out the body. I just turned around, walked away and cried a single tear.

WHY SHE'S STILL THERE: You can't ignore the violence. But we're all very aware of the fact that the viewing audience has become desensitized to images of a burning vehicles and ambulance sirens going off. We try to drive home the fact that in Iraq, going to do some basic [task] can cost you everything. I've been there for 3 and a half years and I still don't understand how people go out and survive and go about their daily business. Maybe that's part of the reason I go back – because I'm constantly fascinated by people's ability to just keep going.