Photographers Blog

Washington, D.C.

By Gary Cameron

There’s an old military adage, which seems to follow more fact than fiction, that if you arrive 15 minutes BEFORE your scheduled starting time, you are late.

Given that, I found myself attempting to find the walkway to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington 30 minutes before the volunteers from the Vietnam Veterans of America local chapter 641 arrived at 06:00 for a weekly cleaning of the black granite and grounds.

There was low-level illumination from ground lights – it was not enough. I have been here numerous times before.

Walking down the entry sidewalk in nearly pitch black conditions, I know the names on “The Wall” are directly next to me on the right. I can feel them; honestly, I can.

At first, the feeling was disconcerting. After a few seconds though, I settled down. In the quiet blackness, I felt comforted being there, even though all the souls around me are gone.

By Gary Cameron

The night before I was to head to central New York state to cover the Wounded Warrior Amputee Softball Team for a Memorial Day weekend story, I played a double-header on my own softball team.

As I slid into third base, the opponent’s third baseman’s knee, and my rib cage, met with enough force to make us both wince and hit the ground hard.

The next morning, as I packed for the three-day trip, the pain persisted to the point that it made me wonder how I was going to carry gear and work long days. My second thought was: “Gary, you are such a frigging wimp.” How could I worry about any personal pain while covering a softball team comprised of U.S. Army and Marine veterans from the Afghanistan and Iraq wars that have lost numerous limbs, gone through agonizing rehab, fought off mental demons, and yet play the game as hard as any team I have ever seen, with so much less?

By Marcos Brindicci

I was almost eight years old when the Falklands War started, and the first thing I remember about those days is seeing national flags flying from houses in my hometown in Buenos Aires province. It reminded me of the celebrations during the 1978 World Cup. Though only a child, I knew the government was not very popular in those years, so I was surprised and confused by the euphoria we felt when our troops landed in Port Stanley, the beginning of a war fought by many untrained conscripts.

As an Argentine I’ve been intrigued by the Falkland Islands since our military government decided to fight over them in 1982. I’d missed two opportunities in the past to travel there for Reuters and I was thrilled with the chance to finally go.

As I prepared the trip I began thinking about what the place symbolized, especially considering the renewed diplomatic tension with Britain and the upcoming 30th anniversary of the war. At the same time I kept thinking about the islanders because although we focus on the fight for possession, we rarely think about the islanders themselves. Even now, in the minds of many Argentines, they’re not part of the discussion.

Matthew Doyle grew up by the beach in Santa Monica, California, and with his slim physique and tattooed forearms, looks as if he’s been surfing his whole life.

But it took three tours of duty half a world away, many sleepless nights, and meeting a woman named Carly before the 26-year-old U.S. Army veteran braved the waves on a surfboard.

On a recent Saturday, I met Doyle and a group of 11 other young military veterans trying to overcome the horrors of war at Manhattan Beach, just south of Los Angeles, where occupational therapist Carly Rogers led them in a surf therapy class.

I stumbled across the Yoga For Vets, NYC website while doing some research for another story. The tag line on their site says, “Taught by a veteran, for veterans, Yoga for Vets NYC is FREE for all veterans, family, and providers.” I kept clicking. The site went on to talk about how the program offered both yoga and meditation classes. It said the classes were designed specifically for veterans dealing with injuries or trauma. The program was started by Anu Bhagwati, a former Marine who found that yoga had helped her with aspects of service-related injuries that the VA Hospital could not. It all sounded pretty amazing. I emailed Anu asking if I could come by and photograph her class, then crossed my fingers.

Anu was kind enough to allow me to photograph her class, and generous enough to speak with me about the experiences that led her to start the program in the first place. I knew that without her words I would risk coming away with pictures that didn’t really distinguish this yoga class from that of any other in the city. It’s a problem that visual journalists often face when stories turn towards topics that are largely invisible. How do you tell a story about trauma or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder when everything appears to be normal on the surface?

As photojournalists we constantly look for moments, situations, details that can help to tell our stories but sometimes it is the voice of the subject to really bring things into sharp focus.