World Series Beauchampionship
I was distracted by the Sox’ breaking of Rocks and fell a little behind the curve on this other pummeling. Better late than never. Kurtz at WaPo:
The soldier whose New Republic article about military cruelty in Iraq was labeled false by Army investigators refused to defend his accusations when questioned by the magazine, even after being told that the editors could no longer support him unless he cooperated.
In a recorded Sept. 6 conversation, the writer, Pvt. Scott Thomas Beauchamp, said from Iraq that the controversy had “spun out of control” and had become “insane” and “ridiculous” and concluded: “I’m not going to talk to anyone about anything.”
Beauchamp stood his ground even after Editor Franklin Foer told him “that if you’re not able to talk about this and able to stand by your story, I’m not sure we’ll be able to stand by it. . . . You wouldn’t have much credibility left in the public eye. . . . You basically made a vow to us that what you were publishing was the truth.” Foer added that Beauchamp’s wife, Elspeth Reeve, then a New Republic reporter, had said “that it’s the most important thing in the world for her that you say that you didn’t recant.”
That sounds like being placed under duress. The wife goes under the bus? Maybe not.*
Beauchamp replied that she was a journalist and he was a soldier.
Despite the contentious conversation, Foer continued to defend the article days later. He did so again yesterday, reiterating that other soldiers whom the magazine would not identify had confirmed the allegations.
While Beauchamp “didn’t stand by his stories in that conversation, he didn’t recant his stories,” Foer said in an interview. “He obviously was under considerable duress during that conversation, with his commanding officer in the room with him.”
While the discussion “was extremely frustrating and engendered doubts,” Foer said, Beauchamp defended his story in a subsequent conversation that was conducted with no superiors present.
Gosh, that means someone’s lying. First Beauchamp, 2nd Beauchamp or Foer? In any case, between jettisoning the wife and changing his story to cover his own ass … if in fact Foer is not lying about that …
In the Sept. 6 conversation, Executive Editor Peter Scoblic repeatedly urged Beauchamp to cooperate, saying that “Frank and his reputation have been dragged through the mud.”
This is a rare Marlon Perkins Wild Kingdom kind of high drama, something we are privileged to witness. It’s like Shakespeare performed by a troop of baboons, wheedling, threatening, betraying each other, appealing to each other’s sense of honor.
A transcript of the conversation was obtained by Internet columnist Matt Drudge, who yesterday also posted the internal Army report on the case. The report concludes that Beauchamp “is not a credible source,” adding: “Private Beauchamp desired to use his experiences to enhance his writing and provide legitimacy to his work possibly becoming the next Hemingway.” The investigating officer recommended that Beauchamp be given a “mental health consultation.”
…
Beauchamp had written that he and other soldiers had taunted a female soldier whose face was badly disfigured. The Army report said every soldier interviewed in Beauchamp’s unit could not recall such a woman and called the account “completely fabricated.”
The Army report also called Beauchamp’s assertion that drivers of Bradley Fighting Vehicles deliberately ran over stray dogs “completely unfounded.” And it dismissed as “false” Beauchamp’s account that soldiers had played with the skulls of Iraqi children, saying just one skull was found and was buried with dignity.
…
Beauchamp, with the Army’s encouragement, had agreed to talk to The Washington Post and Newsweek on Sept. 6, but canceled the interviews at the last minute at Foer’s urging. Foer said yesterday that “given everything we have on the line, we have a right to have this exclusive line of communication with him.”
That baboon wants the banana. At least, he doesn’t want anyone else to have it. Anyway, if Foer is interested in getting the mud off his tail, he should have no problem with others interviewing his guy. He should be encouraging it. Sometimes it’s not about the banana you share today. It’s about the bananas you’ll get to eat tomorrow. Unless … there’s something wrong with that banana.
Sorry, I’m mixing World Series, Wild Kingdom, Shakespeare analogies. It’s turning into a bit of a trainwreck that way as posts go, but nothing like the trainwreck that is Foer and TNR of Glass and Beauchamp fame. I’m jumping clear.
The documents posted at Drudge have been removed. But LGF has the PDFs.
Captain’s Quarter: Foer spins like a gyroscope in a vacuum. Good one! I still like my baboon Shakespeare, though.
Steyn, acquainted with Foer’s boss, suggests he reprise his ”Put up or shut up” line.
Ace: “The Baghdad Diaries” was an unauthorized, apparently untrue Army leak, so why’s Foer squawking now?
* Yon with a different take: Beauchamp stays, tries to make good.
Posted by Jules Crittenden at 10:36 am Comments (7) on Thursday, October 25, 2007
7 Responses to “World Series Beauchampionship”
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October 25th, 2007 at 12:17 pm
Maybe in their rush to peace** the libs could find just one accurate account of atrocities committed by the corn fed violence addled red state goobers they think populate the US armed forces. Just one.
Oh, and libs, it has to be one that the armed forces themselves have not prosecuted.
**Peace: a state of mind where libs can ignore bad people doing nasty things in the world.
October 25th, 2007 at 1:35 pm
Here’s a metaphor for you — Survivor: TNR
At least, that’s what all the CYA and back-stabbing remind me of.
October 25th, 2007 at 1:52 pm
Scott Thomas Beauchamp All But Recants
Although all-but-recanting is not exactly the same as actually recanting, it’s the next best thing.
October 25th, 2007 at 2:13 pm
Beauchamp is not only a liar, but a craven coward. He is hiding behind the protection of the military he so eagerly smeared.
October 25th, 2007 at 9:03 pm
Foer has claimed Beauchamp was being help incommunicado. He didn’t admit the existence of the Sept. 6 conversation until the transcript was leaked. Now he claims (with no details) a second, unverifiable, conversation, as a counter to the documented one.
“his commanding officer in the room with him” was a squad leader – but Foer is clutching for any excuse.
His other soldiers verifying the story might just be anonymous emails from hotmail addresses.
October 26th, 2007 at 12:01 am
Well I, for one, think your Shakespearean Baboon take on this farce is positively inspired! Didn’t you just love it when Foer complained to Kurtz about the Army being the source of the duress in that speakerphone transcript? Just how big can one guy’s self-awareness deficit get before he puts himself out of business?
October 26th, 2007 at 12:02 am
My son, also a Soldier, dreams of being a writer. He won’t slander his country or his comrades so he will never get play in a national rag. This is take on getting a haircut,
“I don’t know what it is about going to the barber shop, but something about that place just makes me think my barber is screwing me over. It could be his shifty eyes and greasy mustache. Or, it could be the way he’s arranged his mirrors to bend the laws of time and space.
I swear it happens almost every visit: I leave the barber shop looking like Frank Sinatra and by the time I’m at home I’m Gomer Pyle. I look great when he shows it to me, otherwise I’d make him fix it; I don’t step out of the chair thinking, “Man, I hope I look like a dog’s genitals.”
But shortly after I exit his place of business, the transformation begins. I’ll see my reflection in a store’s window and think, “God, I’m sure glad my hair doesn’t look like that guy’s.” Next, I’ll see myself reflected in a passing car’s windshield. I’ll know something is amiss then, but like subliminal messages at the movie theater, the image is gone before I can figure out exactly what I found so disturbing.
No, it’s not until I’ve made my way all the way back to my room will I fully comprehend how thoroughly I’ve been cheated out of my $9. I’ll step into the bathroom to take a pee, look up into my own mirror and say: “What the Hell did he do to my hair!?”