The articulate commander of British forces in Iraq, Air Marshall Brian Burridge, put it succinctly. "Historians," he said, "will be pouring over the details of this for years." He was referring to the American military advance on Baghdad, swift and apparently relentless and able to overcome almost all resistance along the way with only a day or two of serious and damaging fighting.

I've decided that second-guessing the generals and senior officers who call the shots (literally) for the anti-Saddam forces is a mugs' game. Best not to do it, or at least, best to raise questions and await answers. For surely it's apparent to anyone who tries to follow the course of events in Iraq that information is at a premium and very little of what's on offer is particularly enlightening. History, Air Marshall Burridge put it, will tell. But journalism has been hard pressed.

Consider the raging debate in much of the international media about the merits and drawbacks of "embedding" reporters with American and British military units. For opponents of war and journalistic purists, this was anathema. The reporter, it was argued, would bond with the men and women around him. After all, they were protecting the ink-stained wretch in civilian clothing. How could any of us not feel grateful for that. Supporters of embedding argued that it gave readers and viewers a unique insight into life on the battlefield. "War is hell," said the Confederate general William Tecumseh Sherman, famously in 1864 as the rebellious southern states of the US contemplated certain defeat after one of the worst military conflicts of modern times. Might "embeds" not show this to viewers at home in a way that historians can or will not?

The jury is out on such a nuance. I know of no-one with an opinion on this war who has changed their view because of reports from the battlefield. The anti's remain opposed; supporters of every hue remain so. My own feeling is that too much has been made of the coverage of this war, whether by those embedded in military units or taking immense risks by moving around the theatre of battle on their own. Neither has there been much enlightenment available from the parade of retired military officers and experts who offer their comments on each and every development, or rumour. Too often, they've resorted to notions like "the fog of war" or even confessing "I don't know".

Another concern, we've seen far too little about the effects on civilians. There have been exceptions: I think specifically of a devastating photograph of a young boy hit by US or UK bombs, his arms blown off, his burnt body smeared with ointment, his eyes expressing shock, pain, fear. But unfortunately, so far the predominant image of this war is the apparent triumph of technology-smart bombs, fast vehicles, night vision goggles besting evil or misguided resistance. Yet there are other effects of battle that we rarely hear about. Not enough is made of disruptions in food, water, medical care, sanitation and economic life. A child whose school days are punctuated with explosions, fear and violence is a child with a troubled future. Who worries about the post-traumatic stress of the Iraqi civilians, what media organisation-while the war is going on-enquires into such issues?

This is left for the historians and documentary-makers, the authors and researchers who come along when the gunfire ceases. Only then can we return to General Sherman's words and contemplate them, reflect on their scorching truth and how we refuse and fail to learn a single thing from the crimes, inactions and failures of our chequered past.

Journalism, it was once observed is "history in action". But history is the collection of information to impart wisdom and context. So far, the coverage of this war has provided intense imagery and anecdote, but nothing that might be remotely considered history's lessons. War is still hell.