Field Notes of a Hotel Warrior, Part I

Over the next few days I plan to post some of my recollections of the Gulf War. My assignments during the war took me to Baghdad, Amman, Damascus, Dharan, and Kuwait City, but I spent most of the war (about three months) in the Hyatt Hotel in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.

So here's the Gulf War, as I remember it...

Part I: “Call Me Skip”

The Coalition ground offensive against Iraq’s occupying army in Kuwait began nineteen years ago this week. It was a beautifully planned and brilliantly executed military operation, and I was privileged to watch most of it from a second-row folding chair in a conference room in the Hyatt Hotel in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.

A fellow journalist called us “hotel warriors,” which seemed apt until the first Scud missiles landed in Riyadh and we had to suit up in our chemical protection outfits and drive around the city looking for bomb damage. Still, Riyadh wasn’t the front line for either the ground war or the air war. The front lines were, respectively, in neighboring Kuwait, where US-led coalition forces were pushing the Iraqis out of the country, and in Iraq itself, where US planes were bombing strategic targets and “lighting up Baghdad” on CNN.

But Riyadh was the headquarters for Central Command, where the coalition’s Commander-in-Chief, US Army General Norman Schwarzkopf, oversaw every aspect of the war’s design and prosecution. And it was an exciting place to be in February of ’91… and not least because it gave reporters a chance to see the war from the “C-in-C’s” (sounds like “sinks”) point of view.

Many reporters who covered the Gulf War faulted the US military for its tight restrictions on war coverage and its "selectivity" when it came to releasing information to the public, and some of their criticisms were certainly legitimate. But I personally felt that I had great access to the military brass in Riyadh and that they were, for the most part, responsive to my questions and requests for information.

I think that was partly a result of a fortunate incident that took place in early January, when the coalition initiated the air campaign that preceded the ground offensive in Kuwait. The war had been months in the planning at that point, but despite repeated requests, Schwarzkopf had given no interviews and held no press conferences. We were told that the C-in-C was “busy planning the war” and didn’t have time to speak to the press.

I was pleased, then, to finally hear from the General’s press officer, Captain Ron Wildermuth, that General Schwarzkopf would be available to do a series of round-robin interviews with the American TV networks for our Sunday morning public affairs shows. He was also planning to give his first press conference the following day, Ron said, in time for our Monday morning programs.

Shortly after the call, representatives from ABC, CBS, and CNN joined me in a meeting in the Hyatt conference room to draw straws to determine the order of the interviews. We won. Schwarzkopf would speak first to Garrick Utley, who was then the host of Meet the Press.

Because NBC was first in the rotation, we were given responsibility for the technical arrangements. On the designated Sunday morning, we created a makeshift “set” in a hotel function room, and laid the cable we needed to connect with our satellite uplink. The General, we were told, would arrive on set at about 6:00 pm, a half hour before broadcast time (Riyadh is eight hours ahead of New York), so we could set our lights and mike levels.

Surprise. Schwarzkopf showed up at 5:00 pm instead of 6:00.

“Ron, I hope I haven’t gotten things confused here, but we don’t go on the air for another ninety minutes. We were expecting you and the General in an hour.”

“I know,” Wildermuth said. “It’s a security issue. The General’s staff decided it was wise to bring him over early, rather than when he was expected to arrive.”

Which was fine by me. As our camera crew set up our equipment, I had an hour to sit and chat with the C-in-C, one-on-one.

I asked Schwarzkopf every question I could think of about developments in the air war and his plans for the ground campaign. He parried most of my questions diplomatically, but he did give me some new insights that I was able to pass along to NBC headquarters in New York.

But we also talked about personal stuff. Schwarzkopf was based in Florida, which was headquarters for the military division responsible for the Middle East, and I had recently spent three years as a producer in NBC’s Miami bureau, so we swapped Florida stories. I’d also covered the civil wars in El Salvador and Nicaragua, which was another point of common interest.

At about 6:15, our NBC cameraman interrupted us and said it was time for the General to take his position on the set. As I escorted him to his chair, I said, “General, I wonder if you could do me a favor. If you call on me at tomorrow’s press conference, I wonder if you could call me ‘Skip.’ It was my childhood nickname, and I know my mother back in Pennsylvania will be watching the Today Show and it will make her very proud.”

“Sure,” he said. “I’ll remember that…”

The Meet the Press interview went off without a hitch, and the General gave his first press conference, as scheduled, early the next afternoon. It was a big show. Colin Powell and Dick Cheney had flown in from DC for the event, with most of the top American and Saudi military brass flanking the podium. And General Schwarzkopf made a comprehensive presentation, complete with maps and videos and detailed “bomb damage assessments.”

When he was finished, he said, “OK, I have time for a few questions.” I raised my hand and the General pointed his index finger at me.

“Skip?”

I asked my question, got an answer, and NBC used the exchange on the Today Show. And yes, my mother and my father, back in Allentown were very pleased.

But the most interesting thing about this story is what happened in the weeks after that first press briefing. I found that I was almost always called on first at press conferences, no matter who was briefing. I was like the Helen Thomas of Riyadh. It confused me at first, but then I figured out that the military brass who had attended that first press conference all assumed that because the C-in-C had called on me by name – and a nickname at that – I must be a personal friend of the General’s.

I think my press corps colleagues got the same impression. I always got my favorite seat in the briefing room. Second row left, on the aisle.

Weeks later, I remember, a CNN producer came up to me and said, “Hey, I gotta ask you. You know, at every press conference, these military guys call on you first, and they all seem to know your name. Did you, like, cover the Pentagon or something?”

I took a moment to think about my answer.

“No,” I said. “I’ve just been working my sources.”