Beyond Embedded: Crossing into Unknown Territory
Embedded. The definition of this word
is: “to fix in a surrounding mass; to incorporate or contain as an essential
part or characteristic” (Dictionary.com). Journalists who accompany the
soldiers into battle are called “embedded” journalists because they integrate
themselves into the soldiers’ lives; they eat where they eat, sleep in the same
conditions, and charge into battle together, albeit with different ways to
“shoot.” If this constitutes a journalist being called “embedded,” then what do
we call a soldier who picks up a camera and documents the war from his
perspective? To him, he is merely documenting his life, the way we civilians
take pictures of a child’s fifth birthday or a cousin’s wedding. What do we
call a person who goes beyond the process of embedding and is actually living the events he photographs? Is
that considered normal because we do that every time we photograph events in
our lives, or does the context of a soldier’s photograph, elevate it to a level
above “everyday photographs”? This is the problem I faced when I met a soldier
who documented his time of deployment, my cousin, Specialist Raul Castillo of
the United States Army. In this post I will talk about his experiences with
embedded journalism as well as analyze some of his personal photographs
depicting his deployment.
My cousin was deployed in July of
2011 for 12 months in southern Afghanistan, more specifically at the Forward
Operating Base Sarkari Karez. He is a mental and behavioral specialist and
therefore, spent most of his time on the base working in an office where
soldiers would be able to come and deal with problems on the home-front,
relationship issues they were going through, as well as talk through their
feelings of combat fatigue. Specialist Castillo would work a 7 a.m.-7p.m. day
and remain on call 24/7. On average, the office would receive five to ten
visitors a day. During his free time, Specialist Castillo would exercise, eat,
and try to catch up on sleep. Being in a warzone, however, he was exposed to
seeing what all soldiers see—men who die to young and soldiers being forever
changed by the emotional toll war takes on a person. That is the life of a
soldier though, to be trained so that when the situation calls for it, one can
release himself from emotions and act rationally and quickly, without hesitation.
This mentality can cause each day to blur into a single succession of hot
weather and constant sand, while being painfully aware of how long each minute
is. In order to better document his time and later be able to account to others
the details of his deployment, Specialist Castillo decided to take pictures.
Specialist Castillo said that he
always had a little camera in his pocket. He felt a compulsion to document
whatever he could. When I asked him why, he said that it was because he felt
that he had to tell a story and that people would only be able to understand if
they could see for themselves what it was like. His documentation began as soon as he left his
home for the airport. Consequently, that is when the censorship began as well.
He was not allowed to photograph any part of his departure from the United
States; he was only allowed to begin taking pictures when they arrived in
Afghanistan, and even then he was given restrictions on what he could and could
not photograph. When I asked him how he felt about having his personal photos
censored, he replied saying that he was frustrated by the restrictions. He felt
as if he was unable to document a part of his story. Luckily for him, there was
a film crew waiting to document their every move, or at least the ones they
wanted the public to see.
The one experience my cousin did
have with journalism during his deployment was having a film crew follow his
unit around because they were making a documentary. My cousin said that he had
never been a part of something so fake and so unnecessary. The crew would
sporadically show up while the soldiers were awaiting assignment in Afghanistan
and stage pictures. Specialist Castillo said that the crew would interrupt
actual work and planning in order to pull soldiers aside to come and take a
picture. He found them to be very annoying and in the way. Once his unit
dispersed among the different bases on assignment however, he never saw the
film crew again or and never was informed if the documentary had ever been
completed.
Specialist Castillo’s personal
photographs presented me with the question of whether the photographs were
simply an extension of his vision, meaning that they were merely subjects that
his eyes happened to fall upon while a camera was in his hand, or if they were
framed to make a statement. He replied that they were a mixture of both, but
that each photograph was a conscious decision, each shutter click had a
purpose. He even told me that he had staged some photographs to add meaning;
some of the photographs are framed in a particular way or use lighting very
specifically to explicitly highlight certain objects, while other photographs
hold special meaning to my cousin that may not be conveyed as easily to a
spectator. Liam Kennedy says in his essay that most of the photographs taken by
the soldiers are of “mundane, everyday depictions,” but that they also reveal
something. “These images suggestively trace the values and perspectives of the
American soldier at war, not only in the overt content of the imagery but also
in its compositions and generic frames and references,” Kennedy continues, “that
is to say the photographs show not only what
the soldiers see but also how they look at the world around them, what they
felt curious about, what they valued, what they found significant” (War/Photography:
“Soldier Photography,” 481). Through these pictures, I will attempt to assess
my cousin’s state of mind and his psychology behind his photographs in order to
better understand the mental state of soldiers at war. I also hope that whoever
reads this will develop a greater sense of respect and gratitude for those
brave men and women who risk their lives so that we may benefit the rights and
freedoms that our country provides. Without further ado, here is a glimpse into
the life of a soldier.
In Berkeley, we have a lot of trees.
In Afghanistan, they are actually pretty scarce, at least near this base they
are. My cousin’s caption for this picture is, “A single greet tree, actually,
the only tree I saw for nine months” (Image 1). The green from the tree is extremely
vibrant compared to the very beige and neutral color background. The army’s
color pallet tends to be very bland because soldiers want to be able to easily
blend into their surroundings, so seeing this vibrant color in the middle of a
barren desert is pretty striking. It also is centered right in the middle of
the frame, making it the focal point of the picture, although the color
contrast made that pretty evident already. When I think more deeply about the
symbolism of the tree, I begin to view the tree as a symbol of life. It has
been able to survive in a desert environment, and apparently all by itself. The
tree is a symbol of perseverance among adversity. This photograph makes me
think about these small details that we take for granted; we are surrounded by
such an eclectic and diverse community and ecosystem, but for some, a tree is
the only symbol of hope to cling to.
This is the picture I think most of
us were expecting. I specifically chose this photograph to follow the picture
of the tree, because this photo is in all aspects its counterpart (Image 2). When I think
of war, the first thing that comes to mind is death. Yes, there is patriotism
and a sense of justice and action, but the only guarantee of war is that people
are going to die. The caption for this photograph is, “A ceremony held for a
fallen soldier.” In the photo we see a pair of boots with a rifle positioned
between them with a helmet balanced on top. Beside the rifle are two flags, one
is the American flag, and the other is that specific company’s flag. We see the
soldiers in front of the makeshift memorial, paying their respects to their
fallen comrade. My cousin said that any soldier who wants to come and pay their
respects can do so, which means that this ceremony can go on for hours. When
viewed from this angle, it appears that the rifle comprises the “body” of the
absent person to whom those boots belonged. The symbolism behind the rifle
represents it as a weapon of death, so to use it to emulate a person after they
have died seems almost inappropriate. When I think about it from a soldier’s
perspective however, a gun is what keeps you alive and protects you, so the way
the rifle is used in the ceremony is more in context. A soldier’s relationship
with his gun is illustrated in this photo by the way the rifle replaces the
person and synonymizes the soldier with his gun; it makes him anonymous and
portrays his identity solely as that of a fallen soldier. This type of ceremony
is men to honor a brave soldier who gave his life to protect his country, and
yet the objects in this memorial are not even enough to discern the soldier’s
name.
This is one of the pictures that my
cousin staged in order to convey his feelings during this portion of his
deployment. The caption for this photograph is, “A look out into the distance while
standing in a dust storm” (Image 3). When I asked my cousin what the significance of the
bars were, he said that he felt as if he was in prison, looking out at the
helicopter, which he viewed as his only way home. The dust storm is causing the
helicopter to look blurry and out of focus, giving it the appearance of an
illusion or a mirage. The bars create little sections within the frame of the
photograph itself and represent a personal jail cell. They conveyed feelings of
being limited, restrained, and the inability to escape one’s surroundings. My
cousin remembers this as a particularly difficult time in his deployment and
said that he felt trapped and homesick. The war forced him to grow up; he had
to make decisions on his own and learn to communicate effectively with his
peers and his superior officers. When he finally did board his plane to leave,
this memory, this one moment, stuck with him, but not because it was his
weakest or most painful; it stuck with him because he remembers the strength he
mustered to overcome that feeling.
My cousin is back with his family at
home now. One would think that the camera would be put away; there is no more
story to tell. He begs to differ. Even after coming back, my cousin says that
he still feels the urge to document, to continue the story. He said that
however, while looking very pensive, and quickly added that he still wanted to
remain in the moment. When I asked him to elaborate he said that the war had taught
him that, yes, events are good to photograph, but while he is still here, he
wants to experience, not document. This
is what I think it means to go beyond being “embedded;” it is when one knows to
put the camera down, and simply experience
the moment, to allow it to overwhelm you and to become a fixture within that
moment.
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| Image 1 |
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| Image 2 |
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| Image 3 |
Works Cited
Tucker,
Anne. Michels, Will. War/Photography:
Images of Armed Conflict and Its Aftermath. Yale University Press. 2012.
Print.
Reid,
Chip. NBC News. “Recalling life as an embedded reporter: Digging ditches to
sleep in, dodging gunfire—a long way from D.C.” http://www.nbcnews.com/id/4400708/ns/world_news-mideast_n_africa/t/recalling-life-embedded-reporter/#.UZSB3bWG2So
Trieb,
Grace, Erin. Trieb Foto. “Behind the Frontlines: The War in Afghanistan.” http://www.erintrieb.com/#/the-war-in-afghanistan/behind-the-frontlines/Afghan_ER_FINAL-22
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