IT never fails to amaze me that even in the midst of events as dreadful as those in Iraq, something comes along to make people laugh.

Obscene it may be but it happens nonetheless, even if, at the time, the person or persons responsible for the injection of humour can have little or no idea of how daft they sound.

For example, Mohammed Saeed al Sahhaf would probably be horrified if he knew how he was seen in the West. But, as the Americans tightened their grip on Baghdad, as the howl of their jets and thunder of their tanks virtually drowned the very words he was speaking, Iraq's Information Minister continued to deny their presence on the streets of the capital to the world's media.

He even went as far as to suggest that the "infidels" would be incinerated in their tanks and that the Republican Guard were well up to the job of routing the invaders, choosing to ignore the fact that the locals were hopelessly outgunned and had little or no defence against air attacks.

He has always looked to me on the point of laughter at the press conferences, with the hint of a grin playing around his face as he reads out the latest load of twaddle.

Perhaps he has been trying to present an image of triumphalism. If so, he has failed miserably. Hardly surprising really as it is terribly difficult, nay well nigh impossible, to appear a winner with flames from the opposition's incendiaries threatening to ignite one's under garments.

But who would have wanted that job? Certainly not me. Not with Saddam Hussein monitoring your performances.

Despite his military uniform and beribboned chest, Mohammed Saeed al Sahhaf has become a music hall joke. I heard a segment of the Jeremy Vine programme on BBC Radio Two when listeners were invited to suggest jobs for the Iraqi information supremo when the war was over.

Mouthpiece for Leeds United was one; Chancellor of the Exchequer another -- both based on the assumption that he could make even the worst scenario seem like a lottery win.

During World War Two communications were light years behind those of today, when high-tech. transmissions bring graphic pictures of the Iraq conflict into our homes, 24 hours a day. Between 1939 and 1945 we had cinema newsreels and radio bulletins but no television so whatever was happening was sanitised. We were told what was good for us, or what the government and the Beeb considered was good for us.

Success, no matter how rare or relatively insignificant, was trumpeted. Reversals, and there were plenty of those in the early days, were kept low-key.

Even the retreat from Dunkirk was somehow transformed into an example of British ingenuity and courage.

That's what the Information Minister has been trying to do for Iraq. Sadly, for him that is, we know different. Perhaps he doesn't own a Sky dish and therefore isn't aware of what's really going on. Anyway, I can't believe he'll be tried as a war criminal. No-one on our side has taken him seriously. Jeremy Vine will vouch for that.