Peter Stefanovic’s Hack in a Flak Jacket is an account of the author’s experiences as a foreign correspondent reporting from some of the world’s more dangerous and unstable places. On paper, it should have been exactly the sort of book that appeals to me. War reporting, political upheaval, the practical difficulties of operating in conflict zones and the relationship between journalists and the events they cover are all subjects with considerable potential. Unfortunately, while there are interesting episodes scattered throughout the book, I found the overall result less satisfying than I had expected.

Stefanovic certainly accumulated an impressive collection of experiences during his years as a correspondent. He reported from Iraq and Afghanistan, covered political turmoil and civil unrest, and repeatedly found himself close to events that most of us experience only through television footage. His descriptions occasionally provide a useful glimpse behind the finished news report, particularly when he discusses the practical problems involved in getting journalists, equipment and information into and out of difficult locations. There is also value in seeing how television news is actually assembled under pressure, often with incomplete information and little time for reflection.

My difficulty with the book is that Stefanovic too often seems to place himself at the centre of the story. Some degree of autobiography is obviously unavoidable because this is, after all, a memoir of his experiences. Nevertheless, there were occasions when I felt that the people, wars and political upheavals surrounding him became the backdrop to the adventures of Peter Stefanovic, rather than Stefanovic being the observer through whom we gain greater insight into those events. The distinction is subtle, but for me it became increasingly noticeable as the book progressed.

There is consequently an element of self aggrandisement running through parts of the narrative. Dangerous assignments naturally make for dramatic stories, and Stefanovic has every right to describe what he experienced, but the repeated emphasis upon danger, access and personal involvement sometimes left me more conscious of the correspondent than of the people whose countries were actually being torn apart. I would have preferred considerably more reflection on the societies and conflicts he encountered and somewhat less emphasis on the adventures of the journalist covering them.

This is particularly unfortunate because foreign correspondents occupy a fascinating position in modern warfare. They are witnesses, interpreters and, increasingly, participants in the information environment surrounding a conflict. A memoir such as this offers an opportunity to examine how journalists decide what constitutes a story, how complex events are compressed into short television reports, how access shapes what audiences eventually see, and how the presence of cameras can influence events. Stefanovic touches upon aspects of this world, but I was left wanting considerably more examination of the profession and rather less celebration of having been there.

That does not make Hack in a Flak Jacket a bad book. It is readable, occasionally exciting and provides an accessible account of the life of a television foreign correspondent during a particularly turbulent period. Readers interested in Stefanovic himself, or in the personalities behind Australian television news, may well find considerably more to enjoy than I did.

For me, however, it was not really to my liking. I came to the book hoping for a deeper examination of war reporting and the conflicts Stefanovic witnessed, whereas I finished it feeling that too much of the narrative had been devoted to the reporter rather than the report. There are worthwhile stories here, but the persistent sense of self promotion ultimately prevented me from engaging with the book as much as I had hoped.