It’s day 13 of America’s shock conflict with Iran — by sheer coincidence, it’s Friday the thirteenth — and I’m delirious. I haven’t had a espresso since I awoke at 5AM, as a result of I’m not allowed to deliver outdoors drinks into the Pentagon (the safety screening cutoff was at 7AM for the 8AM), and ever since Protection Secretary Pete Hegseth modified the foundations final 12 months, journalists should not allowed to go anyplace within the constructing with out an escort, particularly to wherever espresso is offered. Additionally, I’m struggling to grasp why I, a reporter who has by no means coated a conflict, was assigned to take a seat in one of many good seats within the briefing room, watching Hegseth take the rostrum and instantly begin berating the veteran journalists assigned to the dangerous seats.
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