Story of an Intern – Part Four

October 10, 2017 India , Opinion , OPINION/NEWS

Igor Ovsyannykov photo



Ratnesh Dwivedi


Our Bureau Chief and Rajdeep Sardesai


Our Bureau Chief at Zee News was Satish K. Singh, a man who always liked field reporting and who was always pushing young blood reporters to go into the field and experience the nitty-gritty of how reporting takes shape. Many believed that he was a confused person, forever trying to resolve the balance between reporting and desk-work. But, to date, I believe that he was a man of merit who deserved a great deal but was pushed back by his rivals in Zee News. However, I always admired about him and appreciated how he carried me along to assist him in some of his brilliant reports he filed during the beginning phase of coalition politics in India.

He did however have a childish habit of biting his nails whenever he was tense with his reports. A man hailing from Bihar, he had possessed a strong team bonding capacity with him. I am most grateful to him for the moment when he brought me to have a face-to face meeting with today’s magnet of Indian news television – Rajdeep Sardesai.

I had finished my night shift and was planning to go back to my one room accommodation in Mahipalpur, when I saw my bureau chief looking tense and indulged in his old habit of nail biting. He asked me whether I wanted to accompany him to an interview with Madhavrao Scindia at his residence. There was a political crisis in a remote North Eastern region, and the chief minister had submitted his resignation directly to Congress supremo, Sonia Gandhi.

I was falling asleep but said that I would go along with him, not knowing for certain what would come from it.

Rajdeep Sardesai, then political editor, (it was perhaps November 1998), of NDTV-Star News, was already a charismatic and media mobilizer, a famous name and is still serving the Indian television industry with the same passion and energy that has become his USP among his fellow workers and Indian viewers.

This was the promise. The desire to meet him was the reason which made me decide to accompany my bureau chief, even after a hectic and tiring night shift.

When we reached Madhavrao Scindia’s residence a couple of television journalists were already there waiting for him to come out. All of sudden a car with the NDTV-Star News logo entered the premises, the two men who stepped out of the car being the famous duo of Rajdeep and Arnab. We held our breath as the stage was set. Tea was served to us all in beautifuly designed cups and plates, and together we were still waiting for Madhavrao Scindia to come out.

Rajdeep was prepared as he asked for a link from his studio. Patting on his notebook, his brain was kept busy designing some grilling questions, while Arnab kept pacing alongside the office van.

And then my bureau chief whispered in my ear; “Scindia ji.” I woke from my stupor and realized that the gun mikes and lights were focused straight on Madhavarao Scindia. Links had been restored and the great interviewer of Indian media had just thrown a chilling question to Mahadaji.

Later, I spoke to with Rajdeep and he asked me to meet him in his office. Right from that moment on I have met him on several occasions, both officially and personally. The last has been thirteen good years ago and the newshound has sharpened his skills of grilling the interviewees, but has grown into a more humble and patient listener since then also… so I have been told by my friends.

He has brought in the first international collaboration in Indian television news and has set up a team of passionate reporters and producers who have changed the destiny of television news, but for me he is still the same person whom I saw at Madhavrao Scindia’s residence, and who always picks up my phone without ever making me wait.



Campaign Trail


Elections in India are like mega festivals. They are as national, colourful, bright, and sweet and sour as are Holi, Diwali and Eid. Right from the country’s first general elections they have been organised and conducted with the efforts of all officially involved and unofficially participating people, on such a large scale that observers come from outside India to witness this political extravaganza.

One can see a wave of enthusiasm and energy among all those who are a part of this largest democracy in the world. Children, young and old see it as an opportunity to use their might through the people who have the right to vote and elect their respective leaders. And so, in India, this festival is conducted and celebrated in a different mood altogether.

I remember when I was a child we were all very enthusiastic about the banners and posters that were circulated amongst people during the elections. We used a few of them as cover pages for our books and some to show our affection for our candidates from the area. Posters and banners have often changed the mood of elections at times. And if I am not mistaken, in one incident I remember when the posters of the last speech made by Indira Gandhi changed the fortunes of the candidates in the 1984 General Elections.

But now I refer to the elections of 1999. It had been seven years since the demolition of the Babri Mosque, and India’s nationalist Hinduist party had been able to create a wave of nationalism and Hindu mass movement across the nation. They and had managed to gain partial success in the elections in terms of number of seats in parliament. The Congress party was suffering a big huge setback in previous elections and India had just entered an era of coalition politics, where no party was untouchable to another. Coalition politics had earlier been practised at the center level and we were now heading towards another such phase of it in the 1999 elections.

Our team at Zee News was working very hard to prepare itself for the election coverage, and we were feeling the heat of Hinduistic nationalistic feeling, there being slightly less of an option for congress to win a majority in the election, the channel designing an optimistic program called the ‘Campaign Trail’.

But I was feeling a differently way, and am not talking about the election results. My feelings may or may not be in favor of any particular political party, but my concern was that the base on which this Hindu mass movement was created was creating a vacuum which has a disastrous impact on society’s role in challenging the basic ethos of a strong base of a secular democracy. But the vacuum was there and no one was trying to realise it. And I too became a part of this program of Zee News, which would later become the USP of general elections on Indian Television.

The idea behind the program was that a team of reporters and producers would spend 24 hours with a respected political candidate and would picture it as one single episode. It was a huge exercise and two different centers were created for this show in which a dozen of producers, reporters and script writers had to work together to design the program.

It was the second phase of my internship which provided me with a chance to see the people I respected. I was in team A and it was during the second week of my internship when I noticed that a fresh group of interns had just arrived from the Symbiosis Institute. Three of the interns were put in team A.

We worked very hard in this team. For a period of one month we were detached from the main news team, where we prepared a total of 13 episodes, out of which all thirteen candidates picturised by us won the elections. The three interns from symbiosis really did put in a fabulous effort, and we all were very appreciated for our efforts.

Despite our best efforts and the fact that we often worked in double shifts and handled most of the routine jobs at Zee News, a large number of interns were asked to leave after the election results. I was one of them. It was perhaps a tragedy for us all whose names were broadly written in big black letters on the list which was pasted right in front of the Input room. All the interns unitedly accepted this with a lot of courage since we realized that the only single news channel in India was unable to accommodate almost twenty interns. But there were a lucky few who were selected to stay back and were promoted as trainees.

Everybody, from my team mates to the bureau chief, were sure that keeping in mind my long association and hard work with Zee News, I would be promoted to join the main news team as usual. But sadly after two years of hard work I discovered through the same group of interns who stood back, that the man behind my exit was none other than the same shift in charge who also happened to be my in charge team leader on the campaign trail.

I accepted my exit, and by God’s grace there was someone there to support me financially. My elder brother had resigned from BITS Pilani and had joined an MNC in Noida. Hence, I had the time to put my energy into searching for a job. I searched not knowing that it was going to be big, hectic and depressing battle for me.

And then I started using all my contacts and all the promises made to me by all the biggies in the media to get a foothold in the industry; a second entry into a television channel.

I was sure there was something waiting for me out there – something useful, more creative and interesting which would fall my way. But this big gap of joblessness then gave me the positive energy to develop some important contacts and I used my savings to stand on my own as an independent journalist who uncovered some of the evils in society thorough unrecognised reports which I dispatched to some of the best people and organizations.

In the meantime I took few an Electronic News Gathering class at film school but primarily utilized this phase of joblessness to gather my head on my broken shoulders and stood as one. I was then recognised by a person to an individual whom I still admire.

Although I had never worked with her, she helped by providing me with the contact of the most powerful person on this planet.

Anita Pratap never knew me; who I was and what I did; but she trusted me. She had just left CNN as its South Asia bureau chief. I had never met her, but her emails gave me the courage to sharpen my skills of dispatching reports. To this date she has continued to email me even when she is in Norway and is on diplomatic assignments.

I have no words to thank her for the skills and courage she instilled in me on how to file email dispatches from crisis zones, which were later sent to many organizations and individuals to which I assay the most lengthy and unrecognised work in media.

Doing such work and using most of my time at home I learnt much and made the kind of contacts that have been useful my entire life. Then came the year which was a rather fruitful one for me.  And I can bet that what I learnt and the kind of contacts I developed after that year now carry more weight over my entire life.



2002 AD and Two Ladies


Anita Pratap bears the credit of being the first woman to head CNN in South Asia. This lady from Kerla is the first international journalist to interview the LTTE chief, deep in Jafna during his heyday. She has been internationally recognized and awarded for her journalistic assignments during her days at CNN and Time Magazine.

It is a little uncomfortable to write about Anita Pratap as the entire Indian and international media knows about the challenging assignments she undertook during her reporting days. Upon her resignation from CNN she married the Norwegian Ambassador to India, and shuttled between Norway and India, pursuing diplomatic assignments and helping her husband.

Quite often she visits India to make some documentaries and to meet her extended family here.

One day when I was trying to see who I could could approach to rely on for help I came upon her number and called her. She immediately picked the phone up and spoke to me. Then we started exchanging emails, and every time I mailed her regarding elaborating some problem or difficulty, she would come up with a solution for it. However I have never met her, but her emails are almost like a face-to-face meeting, and I always turn to her whenever I am in need or require her advice.

We have shared comments on her books, on her ongoing assignments and also a little about future plans. She never forgets to wish me well whenever I achieve anything remarkable in my professional as well as personal life.

We continue to share ideas and this was during the 2003 U.S. led strike on Iraq over the issue of WMDs that she started a signature campaign on the U.S.’s decision to attack Iraq. I also wrote a piece in this campaign. The report was then dispatched to the senior administration in of the U.S. government. And that is how I got to know about the senior administration of President Bush and gained contact with the White House.

Ami Vitale is an internationally acclaimed photojournalist currently based in Florida, U.S.A. She is on the board of selectors for National Geographic magazine – the world famous environment, science and wildlife publication. But she has already so much to her credit, having received numerous awards from international organizations, and has travelled extensively to the remotest parts of the world that her assignments tell her story to the full.

She has been in India for several years covering stories for world famous Getty Images and has told the story of Kashmir, the Gujarat riots, the Ayodhya issue, festivals, fairs, poverty and child issues through her lense.

She is a master storyteller and her pictures make you think twice on the subjects she raises.

The year 2004 had just begun and I was still looking for an assignment to come my way. I was eager to fill this large gap of joblessness and my optimism was soon going to be realized by these two highly acclaimed individuals.



In Rama’s Land and Ami Vitale


I was spending my time tracking news on TV channels, watching hopefully for something worthwhile to come out of it for me. It was towards the end of February that news started picking up momentum from Ayodhya. The age old dispute was getting a picked up by news channels, but this time due to an extended chapter of the issue.

One of the main parties from the Hindu side was going to organise an event which they called Ram Shila Pujan. This event was to be organised to show the commitment of the Hindus to build a glorious Ram Temple on the site of the birthplace of their holy God, Ram.

Now to remind my readers a little about the issue and Ayodhya, I do not wish to repeat the same old story of 1990 and 1992, but would like to add that Ayodhya is one of the oldest cities in Hindu mythology. Situated on the banks of the mighty river Saryu, it is believed that the city was built by Hindu’s law giver and the first human being on earth – Manu or rather ‘Swayambhu Manu’, as he is called. As the Sanskrit verse states:-


Koslo Naam Muditah

Sfeeto Janpado Mahan

Nivishtah Saryu Teere

Prabhuto Dhan Dhanyavaan

Ayodhya Naam Nagri

Tatrshollok Vishrutah

Manuna Manvendrena

Ya Puri Nirmita Swyam.


The lineage of Suryavanshi Kshatriya which started with the Ikshvaku, the remote ancestors of Lord Rama, starts from Ayodhya which was known as Kosla. During the Mahajanpada period Ayodhya, Kosla was one of the sixteen mighty kingdoms in India.

Lorda Rama was the son of Dashratha and the eldest of four sons. He, according to Hindu mythology, is also considered the seventh incarnation of Lord Vishnu.

Now the story is that Shakari Vikrmaditya of the Gupta dynasty built a magnificent Ram temple in Ayodhya which was preserved, refurnished and redecorated by other Hindu kings over time. It is believed that Babar, the first Moughal emperor ordered his aid Mir Baaki to destroy this Ram temple, and subsequently to build a mosque over there.

The people of Ayodhya, along with a section of historians, also believe that the mosque, which was destroyed by an unstructured unorganised mob gathered on the call of Hindu hardliner leaders in 1992, was the same mosque, to which Hindus believe was built after the demolition of the Ram Temple.

Now it has become a matter of dispute between Hindus and Muslims, and the battle has been fought in and outside Indian courts for the last sixty years.

First there was a monk who first filed a petition claiming that the land and structure that belongs to the Hindus in the 1940’s is now no more. Ramchandra Paramhans, a Hindu hardliner leader and monk in Ayodhya decided to call Hindus to strengthen their unity and to lay claim on the Ram temple in 2004. And the event to be later organized, was called Ram Shila Pujan.

Present day Ayodhya is a place of Hindu pilgrimage place and is situated 125 kms east of the state capital, Lucknow. It is an assembly constituency seat and is a part of Faizabad district, a once glorious centre of the Nawab of Awadh. It is believed that there are almost 3,000 temples in Ayodhya of which a chain of temples are located on the banks of the holy river Saryu.

It is a small town surrounding which is a populous agricultural land region on the southern side banks of the Saryu making the area productive and the people to mostly dependant on this agricultural business. Some noted Samajwadi and Congress party leaders also have their lineage from this area.

The twin towns of Ayodhya and Faizabad, both of which are parted by a distance of hardly five kilometers, are clear evidence of Hindu-Muslim unity, or as its referred to, Ganga Jamuni tehjeeb.

But the dispute of the Ram Mandir/Babri Mosque has widened the gap between these two communities, and after 1992 when the Babri mosque was demolished, the bitterness had increased tremendously.

On providing the backdrop of this, Hindu hardliners decided to organise the event of Ram Shila Pujan, this story started taking shape in the form of headlines on TV channels towards the end of February 2003.

I, who was looking to jump on such an opportunity, decided to go to Ayodhya and file the my reports to the best people and organizations, who still refused to recognise the situation.

When I entered Ayodhya I felt the heat of tension, security vigilance and also the gathering of dozens of print and TV journalists scattered in lodges and hotels of the twin town. Ayodhya happens to be my birthplace and home town, hence I decided to rest there for the first few days. On this occaison I utilized the time to study the mood of the people and the city and at a glance realized that it was going to be a few eventful weeks.

Some TV teams stationed themselves on the banks of the Saryu, while some had set up their OB vans in the middle of the town. I took a few rounds of the city, talked to people, and visited all possible places in the next couple of days. The colour saffron was the in-thing all over town and Hindu hardliners were busy giving fiery statements in support of the event that they scheduled in for the first week of March.

The disputed area is located in the heart of the city, around which is a three-layered security barricade. It covers an area of roughly 70 acres, on the western side of which stood the disputed structure, until December 6, 1992. You have to go inside the security zone up to about two kilometers before you finally reach the site of Ram Lala.

The monk who organised the event was also a religious leader belonging to the Digamabar Akhara, one of seven Akharas in Ayodhya which manages various temples. His mass is three kilometers from the disputed site and close to the workshops where stones are being shaped for temple construction.

One fine morning I went to my uncle’s house in the heart of town to seek some medicine, since he is a homeopathic doctor and was just sitting there sipping a cup of tea. The precursor of the event had started taking shape, and newsmen were busy picturing the places and people around town. All of a sudden a red Maruti car came and stopped in front of my uncle’s house and a lady came out with a driver to get herself adjusted in this religiously warm town. I noticed that there was some dispute between the driver and the lady over the exchange of money, perhaps, the hired driver was charging double the amount from a photojournalist who had come all the way from Delhi to cover the event. It was only after my uncle and I intervened that the matter was sorted out, and the lady introduced herself to my homeopathic doctor uncle as Ami Vitale, a journalist from Delhi.

Ami Vitale, as I later discovered was a photojournalist hired by Getty Images, who had already covered events in Kashmir and Gujrat.

At this point I also dared to introduce myself and my plans. She immediately said that she wanted a person to assist her to cover the events that were supposed to unfold in the next couple of weeks. I, all impressed with her intelligence and eagerness, agreed to be in her company until her departure from the town. Of course, we negotiated the terms and conditions before we started our two weeks journey together.

The next morning she called me and said she would pick me up at 6:00am sharp from my uncle’s residence. I was not sure what she was going to do at such an early hour. It would have been unwise to go back to my village and come back at 6:00am the next morning, hence I decided to stay at a place that was close to the disputed site. Aurobindo Ashram, a branch of Auroville ashram in Pondicherry, is a small meditation center in Ayodhya, with which I had been associated since I was in class ten. There is a small guest-house located in the serene atmosphere of Aurobindo Ashram, where I stayed to meet Ami until the next morning.

I could not sleep that night as was restless about this new assignment. So, without getting any sleep I reached the meeting point almost half an hour in early, and sat sipping a cup of tea in a stall as my uncle’s house was locked at such a time and waited for Ami to arrive.

Sharp at 6:00am, the same red Maruti car stopped in front of my uncle’s house and I rushed towards it to see if everything was okay.

She was a little tense, but waved at me and asked me to get into her small car. Upon reaching the river bank, just above the bridge we realised that the sun was about to rise. We left the car and headed towards the eastern bank. We must have walked for about half a mile and saw small pyres burning on the riverbank. It was the place for performing the last rites of the Hindus. I stopped Ami and told her that it might be unwise to head towards that side, as it would give us a pleasant feeling. So, we returned and started walking alongside the river. Ami, as a sharp photo journalist took out her ultra modern long range camera and lens and took up a position by wading two meters into the Saryu river. She took a couple of shots of the bridge and then of people who were taking a bath in the river.  It is considered a holy feeling to take a bath early in the morning in the river according to Hindu mythology. I was standing on the riverside steps as I saw she was waving her hand and calling me towards her. She was willing to learn about the river, and the ghats and about the Sadhus who were busy doing their meditation on the riverbank. I told her that it is was considered important to meditate and take a bath early in the morning in a holy river, according to Hindu mythology. Then she took a few shots of the rising sun. The sun was just appearing from over the backyards of long distant planes of the river bank, just above the surface of the river.

She tried to move a little deeper into the river, as I admired her expertise with the camera. She remained static standing in the deep chilling water of the river for more than half an hour and took continuous shots of the rising sun.

We had finished our task on the eastern side of the river bank, and now headed to the bridge to cross it and move towards the western bank. Most of the temples are lined up alongside the river, and a small stream out from the Saryu has been metamorphosed into the ‘Ram Ki Paudi’. The real event was awaiting us on that side as we moved towards the bridge.

The woman, who was breastfeeding her son and the school which that was abandoned.

As soon as we headed towards the western side of the river we saw a small mob carrying saffron flags in their hands, moving just over the bridge. They were shouting slogans in support of Ram Janm Bhumi. We avoided the mat and reached moved towards the line of temples alongside the small stream called ‘Ram ki Paudi’.

Ami was determined to enter the temples and take some photographs. There is a very famous Shiva Temple which is known as Nageshwar Nath. We decided to enter and soon discovered that Ami had climbed up on the rooftop somehow after having a chat with the Pujari of the temple. I followed her and moving along narrow, dark stairs I too soon found myself on the rooftop.

The sun had emerged above the surface of the river and its rays were touching and entering the curls of the water waves. Ami took hundreds of photographs of the river, the rising sun, the temple bylanes and the houses alongside the ghats.

This was the time when most of the temples had started the ‘Subah ki Aarti’ (worshiping the lords Gods and making him awake theme). We participated in the ‘Subah ki Aarti’ and then sat down on the bank for a while to plan our next course of action.

Ami was insisting that we get inside some houses and talk with the members of families to get a clearer idea on what exactly they thought of the Ram Temple issue. I was not so sure about going into people’s houses at such an early stage of the day.

But then, we ended up deciding to get into atl east a couple of houses, or rather homes built inside the houses inside the temples.

We selected one rather small temple in which a family of six people were living – a man, his wife and their two sons, one daughter and a newborn. We talked to them and soon realised they were not interested in any kind of debate about the Ram Temple issue, as they believed there could be no argument about the fact that Ram was born in Ayodhya and that the whole place belonged to the Hindus. As we were talking to the man Ami went inside the house and perhaps tried to talk to the mother of the newborn baby. As I got to know later, the mother was breastfeeding her newborn son and Ami had insisted on taking their photos of mother breastfeeding.

By now It it was 7:30am, and we had to go back to our places to freshen up, and then to get back to work again and head for our destinations.

At 10:00am we met at a restaurant and chalked out the plan for the whole day. We decided to see the bylanes and temples first, and then visit the nearby areas in search of meeting and talking to the people and residents of Ayodhya.

Ayodhya city stretches along both sides of the National Highway which connects the state capital Lucknow with another important city – Gorakhpur. On regular intersections this highway is divided by narrow roads which allow you to enter the temple town from the western side of the road, while the majority of the residents and houses are located on the eastern side of the road. There is a very odd distribution of temples and common residents in Ayodhya. These narrow bylanes take you to various temples right from the entrance of Ayodhya to the extreme north of the town where the river Saryu flows eastward.

We decided to pick the west side of the road to enter the temple bylanes. The road which connects the national highway goes deep into the temple bylanes, touching most of the important temples, including the disputed site.

These bylanes are occupied by small shops selling sweets, idols, sandals, Khandaukhandau (wooden Chappalsslippers), books of rituals, Kanthikanthi-Malamala (Holy necklaces) and other useful items; goods you generally required in traditional Hindu rituals.

The most interesting thing is that in the bylane which connects the National Highway to the disputed site, you will see the CDs, DVDs and cassette recordings of the 1992 demolition event of the mosque and speeches of Hindu hardliner leaders.

The first temple you see is called Hanuman Garhi. It is a prominent temple where the idols of Hanuman, along with those of his mother Anjana, attract your attention from a distance. You have to after crossing about 75 odd steps before you reach the temple. Naga Sadhus manage the whole temple area. This is done by dividing the whole area of the temple into seven pattis (divisions). Each patti is owned an Akhara akhara and is where wrestlers are groomed.

We crossed Hanuman Garhi and Kanak Bhavan (House of Gold), and proceeded towards a narrow lane which connects with a small Muslim area, and further crosses to a Jain temple on the west side and another temple bylane on the north side. Towards the south of this small narrow area is again another cluster of temples. At a glance no one can fail to notice this tiny area, comprising of perhaps a dozen or so houses or even less.

Ami was determined to get inside this area. I too agreed but advised her to come with me and meet a very calm and intellectual person who had lived in a lonely house situated alongside this area.

Ami agreed and we headed forward to meet Dr R.C .Prasad.

Dr R.C. Prasad was an intelligent and knowledgeable person who had a lot of information having an extreme knowledge about the town and its problems. A very humble man, he had moved from Agra along with his family. However, now he was spending his days all alone. We went to meet him and seek his version of local events.

He was known to me and I was sure that he would be glad to meet with a journalist at his house. He asked us to sit and offered us a chair and a glass of water. He did not speak much but took us inside his beautifully designed house and showed us some trunks, pieces of luggage and kitchenware. I was not sure what he was trying to tell us, until he told us both that the trunks and luggage belonged to some Muslim families who had left town before the event of Ram Shila Pujan out of fear of riots breaking.

Ami took some photographs, but we were both unsure how to react in this situation. Then Dr Prasad told us that even he was planning to leave town.

We thanked Dr Prasad and headed towards that area we had noticed. I did not find it hard to believe that most of the houses were locked and that families had already left town in order to protect their women and children.

There was no one in this area with whom we could talk to. As soon as we were moving out of the place, we saw a small structure standing in ruins. At first we could not identify it, but then I read on the walls of the ruined building; ‘Kanya Primary Pathshala’ (Girls Primary School).

We could not comprehend whether the school was ruined as a result of the riots that broke out in 1993 after the demolition of the mosque, or if it was really just an old structure that had collapsed due to bad weather.

The sun was moving rapidly moving towards the western sky, we were hungry and had spent the whole day roaming around the town, so we decided to head back towards our destination.





Read the next instalment of Story of an Intern in Tuck Magazine





Ratnesh Dwivedi

Ratnesh Dwivedi is a seasoned Academician, Author, Journalist, NASA Certified Educator and Consultant with 15 plus years in teaching and corporate. He has seen the changing face of global politics and has written extensively on International Affairs.

He serves on board of a dozen global firms ranging from Mining, Oil & Gas, Electricity, Energy, Cyber Security, Intelligence, Defence and Counter Terrorism having the finest people from the corporate world and Goverment onboard.

He holds memberships with global organizations such as ECREA-Brussels, Mission Essential-Virginia, Global Ethics Network-Washington, American Astronomical Society-Washington, Internet Society-Virginia, CSIS-PONI-Washington, RTDNA-Washington, NSTA-Virginia, EIN News Desk, Bush Presidential Center, Texas, etc.

He has authored five books. The Story of an Intern is a Reportage, The Cosmic Mask is a Space Fiction, Third and fourth are awarded academic books. His fifth book, US Intelligence and Cost of War talks about USA Military engagements in the Middle East.

Editor review


No Comments Yet!

You can be first to comment this post!

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.