The facts, one sentence: Iranian cruise missiles hit two Emirati tankers in the Strait of Hormuz on Monday, an Indian sailor on the Mombasa was killed and eight crew members were wounded, and Iran's Revolutionary Guard took credit for 'disabling' what it called two 'rogue supertankers.' That's the event. Now watch four newsrooms hand it a microphone. * Reuters: 'UAE says Iranian missiles struck oil tankers in Strait of Hormuz, one sailor killed.' The complete sentence, seatbelts fastened: who says, what hit, what it hit, who died. Wire services write like accident reports, and on days like this that's a compliment. * CNN: 'US resumes strikes while Iran says it struck two tankers in Strait of Hormuz.' The split screen. But read the fine print on each half: the American strikes simply happen — 'US resumes strikes,' stamped, factual. Iran's missiles arrive gift-wrapped in 'Iran says.' One side gets a verb, the other gets a claim. (Iran did say it, to be fair. On Telegram. Proudly.) * Al Jazeera: 'US, Iran exchange attacks around Strait of Hormuz.' Exchange. Like pleasantries. Both militaries share a single verb, nobody started anything, and the sailor who died is downstairs in the body text. The headline is a scoreboard — though the article, to its credit, remembers he existed. * Then there's RT: 'US resumes "powerful strikes" on Iran after tanker attacks.' A small masterpiece of grammar. The United States is the only actor left standing in the sentence. The tankers? They suffered 'attacks' — origin unknown, presumably the ocean did it. This headline went to print after Iran's own military had claimed the hit, and RT still couldn't crack the case. * Same missiles, four front pages. On Reuters they belonged to Iran, says the UAE. On CNN they belonged to 'Iran says.' On Al Jazeera they were half of a rally. And on RT they belonged to nobody at all — which, when the owner is literally bragging on Telegram, isn't editorial caution. It's witness protection.