Perspective: Spying in Baghdad -- The CIA’s Real Mission Impossible

Satellite image of Baghdad

Many years ago, when I was a young Army Intelligence operative in South Vietnam, I had a daily routine to see if my spies had any new information for me.

I’d drive by a soccer stadium in Danang, the large coastal city where I lived, and I’d look for a particular mark on the wall. If it was there, I’d go to a prearranged place at a set time for a clandestine meeting with a go-between.

Many times the pick-up place was a pleasant beach about a mile from my house.

The war was raging in the jungles and rice paddies less than 10 miles away, and communist agents were everywhere in the city. But security was good enough that they weren’t likely to risk exposing themselves by kidnapping or killing me.

My secret courier was a young boy who would come along selling ice cream from a box slung over his shoulder. I’d buy a cone wrapped in rice paper, and drive away. Back at the office, I’d unroll the paper to decipher my spy’s tiny handwriting.

Baghdad is nothing like that.

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