That dispute typifies the age-old clash of cultures between the military and the press. “The credo of the military seems to have become, ‘duty, honor, country, and hate the media’,” writes retired Gen. Bernard E. Trainor, who did a stint as defense correspondent for The New York Times. Last week the Pentagon proposed rules for pool coverage of Operation Desert Shield that news organizations found highly unreasonable. The all-embracing proposal, which Pentagon spokesman Pete Williams says will be modified, subjects all reports to a “security review” before being sent and bars all unscheduled or off-the-record interviews. The Pentagon says the restriction on pictures of wounded soldiers is so that next of kin can be notified first. But even gory shots with unrecognizable faces are barred.

Contrary to popular impression, most reporters actually support certain war-time restrictions. Information on troop movements and targets, for instance, are routinely omitted. The problem is that the Pentagon’s policy is not only about military security. It’s also about protecting the military’s image. The result is that the press won’t be able to accurately report the conduct of the war.

Obviously, there are some legitimate concerns about the role of the news media during combat. If Vietnam was the first TV war, this could be the first live one, thanks to satellite technology. Live means no editing, a careless kind of journalism. And the presence of global networks like CNN is dicey in war-time. Some Baghdad officials believe that the first sign the Americans are attacking will be when the CNN signal there is jammed.

But those are different issues than the matter of basic access to covering combat. On access, the new restrictions are mostly a reaction to the legacy of Vietnam. During that war, reporters were designated as the equivalent of majors and transportation involved simply hitching rides on helicopters to the war zones to talk to whoever would talk. Correspondents usually did so without today’s ever-present Pentagon “escorts.” A 1989 book by the U.S. Army Center of Military History blames the rise of public discontent with Vietnam on ill-conceived strategy, not the press; nonetheless, most officers still blame the news media, arguing that reporters mistakenly described the pivotal Tet offensive as a U.S. defeat.

Accordingly, the 1983 Grenada invasion was conducted with barely any press access at all. Even the Pentagon realized that this was wrong, so it set up a commission to recommend a new approach. The result was the “combat-correspondent pool,” under which a small handful of physically fit reporters would be taken to combat zones. During the 1989 Panama invasion, the scheme failed miserably. The pool was flown to Panama late, then virtually barred from witnessing any fighting for fear that details of embarrassing civilian casualties would be reported. So far, restrictive pool arrangements in Saudi Arabia have prevented most independent reporting - on the grunts’ view of the workability of high-tech weapons, for instance, or on the true readiness of reserves. If the war starts, there will be even less.

PHOTO: ‘If some guests were rude, I doubt that you would invite them back’: At the Saudi front (GEORGES MERILLON - GAMMA-LIAISON).

The Pentagon’s draft rules allow the press to interview or photograph wounded soldiers only in the presence of a military escort and with the consent of patient, doctor and commander. Other restrictions, quoted from the ground rules:

The visual and audio recordings of personnel in agony or severe shock are not authorized.

Imagery of patients suffering from severe disfigurement or undergoing plastic-surgery treatments is not authorized.

Interviews with or visual imagery of patients undergoing psychiatric treatment are not authorized.