The toppling of Saddam Hussein's statue in the heart of Baghdad was the kind of publicity no amount of American money could by.

Just a few short weeks after US and British troops launched their Middle East assault, the cynics were momentarily silenced as the images of Iraqi people celebrating the fall of a man
who had ruled their country with an iron fist were beamed across the world.

Sadly, the footage of cheering crowds was to be little more than a blip in the slow stream of horror stories which began to emerge. Despite politicians on both sides of the Atlantic staying on message, the death of innocent civilians, troops killed by friendly fire and the atrocities carried out in Abu Ghraib cast their actions in a new light and the war seemed unlikely to provide many winners.

Journalist Oliver Poole watched as initial optimism turned to despair and saw first hand how lawlessness infected once proud communities.

"I'd had two spells in Iraq in the first years of the war, but when I returned in 2005, it was a very different place," he says. "Back home, there was a lot of talk about how the corner had been turned, but there was no sign of building work and the poverty of the place was inescapable. The streets were thick with rubbish and sewage ran along the edge of the pavements, the basic necessities for life were eroding. The time of the war tourist was over."

On his return, Oliver was quickly trained in how to keep a pierced lung inflated by strapping a credit card across the wound and the best way to tourniquet a shattered arm, while the sound of bombing strikes became a familiar soundtrack to life in Iraq.

However, for all the horrors of war, Oliver insists the lasting impression and the one he prefers to remember is of the people he met and the staff who became much more than work colleagues.

"Seeing death close-up was shocking, but I don't remember the bodies now," he says. "What I do remember is the tremendous kindness amid such unbelievable suffering.

"There was one time after an hour or so of ferocious fighting that we came across a house in the middle of nowhere.

"The man living there spoke English, but given what had just gone on like an idiot my first question was, 'So how do you feel about the American invasion?', but in minutes we were talking about football. He was a big Man Utd fan and wanted to talk about Beckham's right foot.

"There is a natural survival instinct and the strength of resilience is phenomenal. People were still going into work, they were still doing the shopping and getting stressed about how to pay the bills. To them it was inconceivable that everything they knew would disappear.

"In a war zone, people have to make decisions about who they are, whether they are a good person or a bad person. A lot of Iraqis did terrible things, but a lot of people didn't. I know it sounds strange, but for me seeing that was an enriching experience."

Oliver became particularly close to his Iraqi translator Ahmed and his drivers whose knowledge of the country was often the difference between life and death.

He's aware that talking of the Iraqi people's great triumph over adversity can be seen as an easy cliché, but insists it was his relations with those on the ground which made the unrelenting optimism being spun by many military leaders eventually impossible to bear.

In the area known as the Green Zone and the US mess halls where troops ate rib-eyed steaks and Ben and Jerry's ice-cream, confidence reigned long after the seams of Iraqi society had begun to unravel.

"At the start, the vast majority genuinely believed that weapons of mass destruction existed and all they had to do was find them," says Oliver, who worked for the Daily Telegraph after training in Yorkshire. "No one thought they had been misled, perhaps we were naive.

"In the Green Zone, American officers would hold regular press conferences where lists of schools and hospitals being rebuilt were rattled off. They managed to put an optimistic spin on just about everything. As the fighting intensified, the electricity supply was intermittent, but they tried to say it was a positive sign of how many electrical goods Iraqis were buying.

"When Brigadier General Mark Kimmitt, the US military's official spokesman told parents to tell their children growing up in the middle of the war that it was the 'sounds of freedom which were frightening them' I knew the plot had been lost. It was like something out of Kafka."

By 2006, crime in Basra had risen by 15 per cent, 60 people were being murdered a month and the incidence of roadside bombings had tripled. The final death toll, now estimated at anything between 100,00 and one million, is the subject of much controversy. What's certain is that many decided to take the law into their own hands.

"The elections were supposed to be the dawn of a new democracy, but when fundamentalist groups received 70 per cent of the vote it showed not only how small Iraq's secular middle-class was, but also how little power it had to shape how the common man voted.

"The Americans had gambled on the constitutional process uniting the country, but it only hardened divides. With the parliament filled with zealots who hated each other, Iraq was a country which was dying."

Despite all evidence to the contrary, the success stories kept being pumped out. However, while Oliver, whose book Red Zone: Five Bloody Years in Iraq has just been published, continued to be frustrated with the press conferences which didn't bear any resemblance to what he knew was happening in Iraq, he left with a grudging respect for those soldiers on the ground.

"You have to remember that in any organisation those lower down the pecking order don't like to admit to their seniors that they've failed," he says.

"Clearly the Americans had the greatest responsibility to sort out the mess they had created, but in some ways I admired them. They came up with plans and employed them ruthlessly. When they finally did wake up, in that American military way they simply rejigged the plan. While everyone else was getting out like the clappers, the Americans stayed and last year were pouring troops into Baghdad.

"I've seen many television pundits criticise the surge, saying it was time to bring the troops home and stop the war, but if the Americans had packed up and pulled out at the moment, I believe Iraq would have reached crisis point."

Oliver, who resigned from the Telegraph, frustrated by their Middle East coverage, left Iraq at the end of 2006. He is still in touch with Ahmed who battled through enormous amounts of red tape to move with his family to America, but he knows a happy ending in the story of Iraq is still some way off.

"I still feel a tremendous responsibility to the people I met and worked with," he says. "It may seem like a terrible generalisation, but the Iraqi people love their country. If Ahmed had any assurance
that his family would be safe in Iraq, he would be on the next plane back. It's their land, but people get tired of so much suffering

"If you see a society breaking down and if you see so much suffering, it makes you realise life is a very simple game. I learned a very valuable lesson and for that I'll always be grateful."



Oliver Poole's Red Zone: Five Bloody Years in Baghdad, published by Reportage Press, priced £12.99 is available to order through the Yorkshire Post Bookshop on 0800 0153232 or online at www.yorkshirepostbookshop.co.uk. Postage and packing is £2.75.