The biggest question seemed to challenge his assertion that the Afghan commandos planning the raid on the NDS prison had been near the target and under fire at the time of the strike. A picture from a drone feed appeared to show that the Afghan convoy was parked near Kunduz Airfield, about nine kilometers away from the Taliban-controlled intelligence-agency compound. It seemed to show that Hutch had called a preemptive strike on the building, before the commandos had even set off, a violation of the rules of engagement that prohibited offensive strikes against the Taliban.
He was confused. He had been following the Afghan commando convoy’s movements on a GPS tracker and remembered seeing the blue pentagram, indicating friendly forces near the NDS prison at the time of the strike. He started to doubt himself for the first time. Perhaps the gunshots he’d heard had nothing to do with the commandos’ mission.
Oh my god, he thought. How could I have gotten all this stuff wrong?
On October 28, 2015, Hutch went for his final interview. There were two general officers investigating the strike and several subject matter experts. It seemed clear that the investigators didn’t believe his answers. He had been through the same line of questioning repeatedly. When they got to the airstrike, the lead investigator, US Army major general William Hickman, again asked how he had determined that the individuals at the site were hostile, since they weren’t carrying weapons. He also seemed skeptical of the decision to call for air support for the commandos on the mission to retake the Taliban-controlled NDS prison.
“Okay, you kind of said two different things here,” Gen. Hickman said, trying to pin down where Hutch believed the commandos were at the time of the strike. “They’re at the intersection taking—you believe—taking fire, and I am trying to understand how you identified where the fire was coming from, and decided where to fire the AC-130 at.”
“Yes, sir, it made the most sense that they would be receiving fire from down off the long east-west roads and since that’s where I expected them to go,” Hutch said, frustrated, referring to their target, the NDS prison.
It was difficult to convey the life-or-death decisions that had to be made in the heat of the battle with only limited communications and equipment.
“Okay, but you authorized fire to be fired into a building on the NDS facility?” he said.
“Yes, I did,” Hutch said.
There was silence.
“Okay, that’s all I got,” the general said, wrapping up.
IT WOULD BE MONTHS before Hutch would find out that the image of the convoy near Kunduz Airfield was labeled incorrectly as the 10th Special Operations Kandak. It was a different group of commandos that had been flown in from Kabul to deal with the crisis and was using local vehicles. The national tracking system team had attached a note to the picture explaining that the tracking system hadn’t updated codes for the new commandos, but the investigators had missed it. A follow-up investigation months later would catch the memo and find the convoy that Hutch was tracking near the NDS compound after all, where they had come under fire.
The team that had fought with Hutch in Kunduz continued to fume over their treatment and saw him as a scapegoat. In their view, the generals were responsible for sending them to Kunduz in the first place; there were known risks to sending troops into a heavily populated, civilian area. They had recaptured Kunduz as requested and ought to be recognized for their bravery instead of punished for a strike.
The Bagram team captain, Pat Harrigan, was among the many witnesses asked to fill out a sworn statement as part of the investigation. Before turning it in, he approached Col. Johnston, the battalion commander, to read him his answers, which were highly critical of US Army leadership in Afghanistan.
“I want to make sure you understand this isn’t leveled at you,” Pat said. “I know there’s going to be blowback from this. I just want you to know what I’m writing.”
“I can’t stop you from writing whatever you need to write in your sworn statement,” Col. Johnston said. “But yeah, you’ll hear about it again,” he added, though Pat already knew that.
The battalion commander had his own frustrations with the way the investigation was being handled, but he kept them to himself. Pat was right: his testimony would have repercussions, but he seemed determined to share it. Pat was already talking about leaving the army.
Pat’s written response contained a blistering critique of US military leaders, accusing them of moral cowardice and a profound lack of strategy in their handling of the Kunduz crisis. “Inaction or indecision does, however, enable convenient political expedience, where one can reap the rewards of success without facing the responsibility or consequence of failure,” he wrote. “A leader can smile for the camera while handing out an award, or sidestep the bailiff when the gavel drops on the Judge’s bench.”
No military commander should ever let his men leave the wire without a task, purpose, and end state, Pat wrote, quoting a lesson taught in the Special Forces. He described how the battalion had been left without direction by Gen. Swindell at the Special Operations Joint Task Force and Gen. Campbell at Resolute Support headquarters.
He continued:
No fewer than three times did [redacted] call and ask for the level of commitment from SOTF, who called SOJTF, who called COM-RS [Resolute Support]. Sadly, the only sounds audible were the sounds of crickets from the PHQ [police headquarters] center square, though those were hard to hear over the gunfire.… How have we as a force, as a group of officers become so lost? I will tell you how. It is a decrepit state that grows out of the moral cowardice, careerism and compromise devoid of principle, exchanged for cheap personal gain.… Decisive strategy is costly, but would alleviate the recurrence of Kunduz in the future. Unfortunately for the man on the ground and his family back home, decisive strategy must be planned and executed outside the chains of moral cowardice.… If someone must be held accountable, let it not be the man who was ordered to sky-dive without being given a parachute.
As Pat predicted, Kunduz would fall again, almost exactly a year later.
WHEN THE INVESTIGATION was complete, Gen. Hickman gave Hutch a heavily redacted version of the three-thousand-page report, which included interviews with at least sixty-five people, transcripts from the aircraft, and evidence drawn from drone and satellite feeds. The executive summary said that the ground force commander had illegally ordered a devastating airstrike without properly identifying the targets, resulting in the substantial loss of civilian life.
“The GFC’s decision to provide pre-assault fires and the aircraft’s employment of fires in a deliberate, nondiscriminatory, and offensive manner without positive identification of a threat resulted in substantial civilian casualties, significant collateral damage to the Médecins Sans Frontières Trauma Center, and operational failure,” the executive summary said. “[Redacted] willfully violated the ROE [rules of engagement] and tactical guidance by improperly authorizing offensive operations.”
The report described Hutch’s account of events as implausible, partly based on the misidentified drone photo, which appeared to show that the commandos on the mission to retake the NDS were in the wrong location, near the airport.
“The [redacted] Version of events surrounding his decision to authorize the strike is internally inconsistent, implausible, and contradicted by other available sources of credible information,” the report said.
Hutch was shocked. He could accept having made a mistake and that civilians had died as a result. He could accept that it was preventable, and he was prepared for any punishment the military saw fit to administer. But to be accused of trying to cover it up? That was too much. It couldn’t be real. Everyone in his chain of command had told him not to worry. Not only did it seem like his career in the army was over—he was lucky not to stand trial for mass murder. It felt like a nightmare that he couldn’t wake up from.
The results of the investigation were turned over to the top US commander, Gen. Campbell, for review. A couple of
weeks later, Hutch was summoned to Gen. Campbell’s office at the US military headquarters in Kabul. It was located in a security bubble nicknamed the Green Zone after the one in Baghdad. The helicopter touched down on the soccer field, which doubled as a landing zone, and Hutch made his way over to the building occupied by the leaders of the war.
Gen. Campbell invited Hutch to sit down in his office and asked him if there was anything he wanted to add. Another officer, Gen. Buchanan, was in the room. Hutch had prepared a small speech: he said he recognized he’d made a terrible mistake, but he still believed that he had acted legally and morally and done his best in a difficult situation. He blamed his errors on fatigue and lack of sleep and pleaded for his job.
“I fully accept responsibility for all this,” he told the generals. “I want to keep serving.”
Gen. Campbell looked grim. He told Hutch that he had reviewed the report and determined that Hutch had violated his tactical guidance. He was relieving Hutch of command, effectively ending Hutch’s career as an officer on the spot. Gen. Campbell handed him a pen and sheet of paper to sign.
Hutch felt the blood drain from his face as he picked up the pen. His hand trembled so badly that he almost couldn’t write his own name. He wrote his signature on a dotted line and then realized he’d signed on the date line. He scratched his name out and signed again. He stared at the mess on the page in stunned silence.
Gen. Campbell watched without offering any reassurance or words of encouragement. Gen. Buchanan gave Hutch a pep talk, and advised him to put the experience behind him and move on to a stage of life outside the army. Still in total shock and feeling shaky, Hutch nodded.
His battalion commander, Col. Johnston, was waiting for him outside.
“I’ve been relieved of command,” Hutch told him.
Col. Johnston couldn’t believe it. All along, he’d told Hutch not to worry, that the investigation would get to the bottom of what had happened. He viewed Hutch as one of the most promising officers in the battalion. The circumstances of his dismissal didn’t merely end his career in the army. They could make it difficult for him to get hired in the civilian world as well.
They went to the Thai restaurant on the base to kill time before the flight back to Bagram Airfield. Hutch stabbed at his food, feeling depression sink in. It was hard to reconcile how his whole life had led him here. He had given everything to his career in the army, and this was how it was going to end?
GEN. CAMPBELL APPEARED at headquarters in Kabul on November 25, 2015, to read a statement to the media summarizing the findings of the investigation into the Kunduz hospital bombing. He called it a tragic and avoidable accident and said some of those involved didn’t follow the rules of engagement and had been suspended pending disciplinary review.
He said the investigation concluded that human error, along with technological and system failures, had led the US aircraft to bomb the wrong building. He declined to take questions. Afterward, his spokesman would not say how many US service members had been suspended or address a question about whether responsibility might lie farther up the chain of command.
Médecins Sans Frontières was outraged by Gen. Campbell’s remarks and renewed calls for an independent investigation.
“It is shocking that an attack can be carried out when US forces have neither eyes on a target nor access to a no-strike list, and have malfunctioning communications systems,” Christopher Stokes, the organization’s general director, said in a statement. “The frightening catalogue of errors outlined today illustrates gross negligence on the part of US forces and violations of the rules of war.”
Meanwhile, at Bagram, Hutch packed his belongings and focused on getting a flight home before Christmas. At the last minute he succeeded, finding a seat on a plane with a group of Rangers; they landed at Hunter Army Airfield in Savannah, Georgia. He rented a car and drove home to wait for Tina and the kids to get back from her high school reunion. It was strange to be in their empty house. She had unpacked and set up all the furniture while he was gone.
She called to tell him they were less than an hour away. He felt incredibly happy to be home and lay on their bed to rest for a few minutes. Afghanistan seemed so far away, like another life. Hutch closed his eyes. It was as though Kunduz had never happened.
Tina pulled up at the house. She hadn’t told the girls that their father was home. It was going to be a big surprise. He was safe. That was all that mattered at the moment. The kids would be so excited to have him back in time for Christmas. She went to the front door and knocked. His car was in the driveway, but no one came to the door.
She spent what felt like an eternity banging on every door and window, fearing the worst, as the girls protested to be let out of the car. Then she heard a click, and a sleepy-looking Hutch appeared sheepishly behind the door. He threw his arms around her, and the girls flew out of the car and ran to hug him. The family enjoyed their evening together, trying to get back to normality. Then the girls went to bed and the house fell silent.
Tina led Hutch to their room and sat him down. She was five months pregnant and showing.
“Tell me everything,” she said, urgently. “What’s going to happen to you? What’s going to happen to us?”
He related the entire series of events, ending with the report that had been sent to the US Army Special Operations Command, who would review the investigation and decide on the appropriate punishment. They would have to wait for answers.
CHAPTER 16
Sangingrad
CALEB
CALEB was the one to help the new team settle into Camp Antonik in Helmand, as Matthew Roland had when Caleb’s team first arrived. The swap had happened in days, and the new team hadn’t had a chance to do their intelligence preparation, a process that normally took place in the months leading up to a deployment. Caleb immediately became the senior Fox on the team, and they relied on him to help plan a campaign for the remainder of the tour.
Andy MacNeil, the captain of the new team, thought it would be best to focus on a specific area instead of firefighting all over Helmand. It seemed that the previous team had chased the Taliban from one spot to the other, leaving them always a step behind. He submitted a campaign plan that focused on easing pressure on Lashkar Gah, the provincial capital, by systematically clearing the route to Marjah.
Caleb shared what limited intelligence his team had gathered. US intelligence assets in Helmand were severely reduced, and even the computers that stored intelligence had been sent back to the United States, so there was no historical record of attacks in the province—something that would have been helpful.
The team set their sights on destroying a Soviet ZPU-4, a quadruple-barreled antiaircraft gun, that they had spotted on a drone feed. A Taliban commander liked to parade it on a truck while driving through villages, passing out RPGs to rally crowds. In earlier years, the team would have been cleared to take it out with an airstrike, but this wasn’t an option due to the restrictions on engagement and concerns about civilian casualties. The team decided to target it in person.
Maj. Gabriel interrupted the planning cycle with orders to leave immediately for Sangin. Sangin district had been known to British troops as the deadliest place in Afghanistan during the four years in which they were responsible for Helmand before handing it over to the Americans. They nicknamed it Sangingrad after the World War II siege by German troops of Stalingrad, where thousands perished during the Nazi invasion of Russia. The team was ordered to prepare for a joint multiday operation with the Afghan commandos, to prevent the district from falling.
They usually operated at night and left the site of the operation by morning, but Gen. Swindell, the top commander of US and NATO Special Operations, wanted them to stay overday, or through a period of daylight. The sudden enthusiasm for multiday operations was apparently linked to a successful 3rd Group operation in the north that had unearthed a huge cache of Taliban weapons. Andy didn’t like the idea of staying through the day. The tea
m was isolated, and the strict limitations on air support made them wary of being out during daylight hours in Sangin, when they would lose the element of surprise and the advantage of night vision.
With brown hair and freckles, Andy was one of the youngest captains in the company. He was brand new to the Special Forces and full of enthusiasm, but he wasn’t reckless. He was a former infantryman and had previously deployed to Iraq, where backup troops had never been more than ten or twenty minutes away. He tried unsuccessfully to convince his superiors to let the team leave Sangin before sunrise.
THE TEAM LANDED in Sangin district in Chinooks after the usual discussion with the air force over how close they could get to the district capital, also named Sangin. They were dropped in the brown zone, miles away from the town, and had to hike the rest of the way through mud carrying ninety pounds of gear each. The long distance increased their chances of being spotted.
The town was a labyrinth, and it was hard to imagine patrolling there every day like the Marines and British troops had done before them. Once inside, the Afghan commandos cleared a path by arresting a local resident and forcing him to walk in front of them as a “local guide” on the assumption that he would know where the bombs were buried. Andy found the Afghan commandos difficult to work with and questioned some of their moral choices, but in the end it was their country and not worth losing rapport arguing about everything.
To cover more ground, the team split up into three elements: a command element, led by Andy, and two maneuver elements, one led by Dan Gholston, the team sergeant, and the other by the warrant officer from Caleb’s old team. Warrant officers worked as assistants to the team captains. They were looking for compounds used by the Taliban to store weapons and explosives, which were easy to spot because they had been marked with piles of rocks, spray paint, or barbed wire, as a warning to other villagers.
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