March 15, 2008
By TODD PITMAN
In my nightmares, the helicopters still come out of a dark sky, two black spots barely visible against the backdrop of night.
Their swirling blades grow louder until they finally touch down on earth and fall silent.
They look like giant steel bugs from another planet, bulbous robots with eyes of glass coming to take away their prey: seven human beings who woke one day in Iraq not knowing they would be dead by noon.
Iraq Through the Looking Glass
For Dmitry
Moscow, May 21, 2007, the night of Dmitry's Funeral. Photo by Eduard Korniyenko.
BAQOUBA, Iraq (AP) _ In the last hours of his life, Russian photojournalist Dmitry Chebotayev was doing what he lived for: taking pictures. And laughing.
Chebotayev died Sunday when a massive bomb exploded under the U.S. Stryker troop carrier he was traveling in as it moved down a trash-strewn road in this insurgent-plagued city northeast of Baghdad, killing him instantly along with six American soldiers. He was 29.