No Worse Enemy

by Ben Anderson

  ‘Just fifteen kilometres behind me you would be in the centre of Nad Ali. Just a few more and you would be in the centre of Marjah. We have people in this camp who run further than that every day. So it’s no great step to imagine that we are on the doorstep of the objectives that we’re about to face. For several years now Marjah has been under the control of the Taliban. It’s been no-go terrain to us and to our Afghan security partners.

  ‘The purpose of this mission is to return Marjah to the lawful government of Afghanistan and to rescue the people from many years of Taliban rule. They are waiting for the Afghan security forces, partnered with coalition forces, to come in and lift that burden, lift that yoke of Taliban rule off them.

  ‘The D-Day force will go sure, big, strong and fast. We will place the enemy on the horns of a dilemma. They will have three choices: number one, stay and fight; number two, make peace with this government; number three, try to flee. If he tries to flee we certainly will have folks around waiting for him. And if he tries to blend, the importance of the Afghan security forces is that they will help us separate him when he tries to hide in plain sight.

  ‘The goal of this operation is the people. It always has been and it will continue to be. In Marjah, the people are the prize. The Taliban is what separates the people from their government.

  ‘This may be the largest IED threat and largest minefield that NATO has faced’, Nicholson continued. ‘We will breach and continue to move without losing momentum. There will be no opportunity for time out, no opportunity to take a knee, no intervention at any level that will stop us from achieving our D-Day objectives. We will immediately, upon achieving those objectives, engage with the local population. Every Company Commander will hold a shura on D-Day. This will be continuous. We will work closely with the Provisional Reconstruction Teams to be able to show an immediate improvement in the people’s lives. You get one chance to make a first impression with the local population. We understand that, we get it and we’ll pursue it with great vigour.’ Speaking elsewhere, General McChrystal, leader of NATO and American forces in Afghanistan went further, promising a ‘government in a box, ready to roll’ within days. He said the Marjah operation was ‘a model for the future: an Afghan-led operation, supported by the coalition, deeply engaged with the people’.

  ‘You will hear noise in the background’, Nicholson continued. ‘You will hear gunfire on the ranges. That is ANCOP (Afghan National Civil Order Police) training. We have three hundred ANCOP here today on this base; we’ll have them for about eight days training then we’ll get more ANCOP and we will continue to help prepare the Afghan Security Forces for the challenges ahead.’

  Standing next to the lectern as General Nicholson spoke was Captain Saed of the Afghan National Army. In a few days’ time, the racket he’d make beating the shit out of one of his men for smoking weed on watch would wake me in the middle of the night.

  General Nicholson handed over to General Mahayadin, an incredibly handsome Afghan man, whose face could have been carved from stone. He had a thick black moustache and a head as bald and shiny as a bowling ball.

  ‘Marjah is a place of fear, panic and terrorism’, he began, ‘and the people are tired of those controlling Marjah. The Afghan government and its partners, the army and ISAF decided to terminate the concerns of Marjah people. We have planned, and decided to do our best to free these people from these terrorists and the landmines they are losing their kids and families to. The ANA, ANP, Marines and other forces will attack Marjah and take it over from the enemy. We will raise the Afghan flag again and bring back the people to their normal lives.’ He then repeated almost exactly what General Nicholson had said: ‘The enemy has three choices: one, fight or die; second, surrender to the government; third, run away. Wherever the enemy goes we follow them. Kill them. Be sure that we will bring peace in Marjah and we will terminate and destroy the enemy. Thank you.’

  Nicholson and General Carter, the British head of Regional Command South, chatted with the reporters, telling anecdotes that made everyone laugh. Beside him, General Carter’s assistant smoked his pipe and carried an umbrella. There was a sense of unreality. The atmosphere was jolly, as if everyone were setting off for a game of golf, not about to invade a town the Taliban had spent months seeding with booby-traps, sniper holes, trenches and bunkers.

  General Carter spoke. ‘From the perspective of the Afghan people, what will happen is that they will see their government is genuinely committed to making life better for them. That effect will start in Marjah; it will spread to Nad Ali, to Helmand and throughout Afghanistan. And you, as the key participants in this operation, will be those who will achieve that effect. But you should also be clear that the outside world will wish to see a successful operation. And what they will see is an increasingly capable Afghan Security Force at the helm of what will be a combined operation.’ He emphasised ‘helm’, just as McChrystal had emphasised ‘Afghan-led’. Even the name of the operation – Mushtaraq – meant ‘together’. I could see why they were all making the point: the Afghans are as good as us now, so we can soon leave! But they actually seemed to believe it.

  General Nicholson took the mike again. ‘I cannot recall an operation, anywhere, where we will have had such multinational, joint, combined talent leading it. This is a magnificent force that’s been assembled for a specific reason. We have confidence in a lot of things: our mission, our ability to accomplish the mission, the inevitability of this mission. But most of all we have confidence in our team.’ He motioned with his hand to the two Afghans next to him; unfortunately, they weren’t getting a translation. ‘And wherever you see a marine, you’ll see the Afghan army or police with them. No one is going to be able to do this alone. I know that we’re ready. I think history will judge us favorably on our efforts and our resolve. So thank you all for coming. We are ready. Semper Fidelis. Have a great day.’

  Everyone posed for a photograph. General Nicholson shouted ‘Team Marjah!’, adding, ‘That will be in the history books somewhere.’

  Later, General Nicholson held an impromptu press conference with General Mahayadin by his side. ‘I don’t know that anyone is closer-embedded. We don’t just talk it, we live it. Story after story: Christmas Day, Afghan soldiers coming in with turkeys; Ramadan, marines buying goats. A brotherhood that has evolved over ten months of great trust and co-operation. This isn’t fluff, this isn’t talk, this is the real deal. The Marines have great respect for the Afghan Army and I think that’s reciprocated.’

  One of General Carter’s assistants complained light-heartedly to the American reporters that there were no Brits. When they pointed to me, he asked who I was going in with. When I told him, his face dropped: ‘Be careful, old boy. It’s going to get fruity in there.’

  A few nights later, I got a chopper ride to Camp Dwyer, the staging post for the operation. I felt no excitement. Just a grim and draining foreboding that I might badly regret my decision to come here.

  * * * * *

  The atmosphere at Dwyer was entirely different and matched my feelings about the operation. Here were the people who would be fighting their way into Marjah.

  During the ROC drill I’d paid attention to what ‘my’ marines – 3/6 – were planning to do. Their aim was to approach Marjah slowly over three to four days, clearing all the IEDs along the way. I’d been switched to 1/6 Marines at the last minute but assumed that everyone had roughly the same plan, except they’d all be approaching from different directions.

  Bravo’s commanding officer, Captain Ryan Sparks, didn’t seem pleased to see me. He was very serious, even among other serious men I’d met, about to go into one of the biggest battles of their lives. Captain Sparks looked like a Pixar version of the perfect marine. Chisel-jawed, with light blue eyes, he was an absolutely efficient machine. Nothing in his speech or appearance was unnecessary. Not a hair out of place, not an ounce of fat on his body. No tattoos and didn’t do small talk. Originally from Kansas City, Missouri, he hel
d a first degree in Political Science. Sparks was in ‘Force Recon’, the closest thing that the Marines then had to Special Forces, on September 11th. He’d been on his way to Afghanistan that day, originally to set up a few airfields and later to kill or capture Mullah Omar. After tours in Fallujah and Haditha and another in Afghanistan, he had been made CO of Bravo Company. In between all that, he’d managed to get married, have a baby and complete a masters degree in global leadership. He also loved surfing, which, he said, had ‘some sort of mystical hold on my soul’.

  Sparks took me to one side and asked how much risk I was willing to take. I told him I wanted to be with the guys who’d be right in the thick of it, at the front. He nodded slightly and told me the plan. Several waves of helicopters would drop Bravo Company into central Marjah at 4 a.m. on day one. For the first few days they would carry only their rifles and a few rockets, have no outside support, no electricity and no vehicles of any kind. I was stunned. It had to be a joke. My mind started racing: IEDs, anti-aircraft guns, trenches, bunkers, a thousand Taliban fighters, perhaps two. I wanted to ask Captain Sparks how he intended to deal with all of this when he landed, in the dark, on day one, without support. Instead I just made a crappy joke about the mission being insane and suicidal.

  ‘Yes. We were surprised too’, said Captain Sparks, without laughing.

  Jesus, I thought, you could tell this guy to walk into Marjah alone with nothing but a Stanley knife and he’d do it without blinking. I’m dead.

  When we’d finished, one of the other officers asked me for details of my next of kin and my blood group. This was called my ‘kill data’.

  * * * * *

  I joined Captain Sparks the next day as he gathered all his men together for their final pep talk before the operation began. The marines were assembled in a tight circle, some sitting, some squatting and the rest standing, so that they formed a perfect little human ampitheatre.

  As Captain Sparks walked past me into the centre of the circle he said: ‘I don’t know what I’m going to say yet.’

  ‘What’s going on Bravo?’ he said, pacing back and forth.

  The marines responded with their traditional chant. ‘Ooh-Rah.’

  I’d been told his pep talks were emotional affairs that built up to a crescendo until he – and sometimes the whole company – were screaming and ready to rip off heads with their bare hands. But everywhere I looked, there was a sense of doom, although no one would openly express it. This was a company of men about to suffer. Some would undoubtedly die; others lose limbs. As I scanned the faces, waiting for Captain Sparks to speak, I wondered which ones it would be.

  ‘You guys ready to go?’, he asked.

  ‘Ooh-Rah.’

  ‘Long road to get here right?’ He paced some more. ‘Hey! Who can tell me what the point of this operation is? Or the point of our deployment in general … or even this war?’ There was silence. ‘Anybody got a stab? Corporal Hernandez?’

  ‘To help out the Afghan people and remove the Taliban’, said Hernandez.

  ‘Corporal Hernandez is absolutely right. This whole war, at the strategic, operational, tactical level, it’s all about the people. At the strategic level, September 11th 2001. Fundamentalist Islamic extremists attacked New York City and killed three thousand people. Civilians. Since that time the Taliban have been here, controlling the people of Afghanistan. Islamic fundamentalism has caused problems all over the world. At the operational level, for us, the Taliban have their fist in the mix here in Afghanistan. They’re controlling the people, destroying their freedom, imposing a way of life that is not comfortable. They are not free. At the tactical level this operation is about the people. The people of Marjah every day live under the iron fist of Taliban law.’

  In the build up to Operation Mushtaraq there had been a lot of talk about life in Marjah under the Taliban. Tales of brutality carried out in the name of sharia, stories about the opium trade, heroin-processing labs, Taliban prisons and IED factories.

  Sparks went on. ‘Our new motto: “no better friend, no worse enemy”. No better friend is first for a reason. There are eighty thousand people in this city; there’s maybe a thousand enemy. These people are pretty callous to being around violence. It’s entirely likely that a couple of days into this fight they’ll be going to the bazaar and they’ll be walking right through the middle of your firefight. It’s more important not to hurt the civilians than it is to kill the enemy. Most importantly, what you have to remember as we go out there is that what happens over the next five months, and probably even more over the next five days, will be a cornerstone of your memory for the rest of your life. One way or another, good or bad, those memories will either give you strength or haunt you for the rest of your life. Most importantly, what it comes down to is: we’re the good guys. We’re here to spread freedom throughout the world. We’re here to ensure our way of life at home and give everyone else in the world a chance at democracy.’

  The marines were transfixed. I couldn’t see the faintest hint of scepticism on anyone’s face. They were all absolutely committed and determined. The Captain moved on to the plan.

  ‘I’ve talked to you before about the gift of aggression. You’re here for a reason. That’s an important concept, because trust me, this is going to be chaotic. This plan, that we’ve drilled over and over, as soon as you get off the bird it’s not worth anything. Every single one of you, from me down to Ward, who’s probably our newest guy, every day are going to have to make a hundred decisions that there is no right answer to. You’re not going to have all the information. You’re not really going to know what’s going on. But guess what? You have to act. None of us will be perfect but have faith in your training and make sure that every day you’re looking out for those guys to your left and your right.

  ‘The guy that wrote On Combat, one of my favourite books, Lieutenant Colonel Dave Grossman, refers to us as modern day Paladins. The knights of old, the old Paladins, put on their body armour every day, their steel suit, got on their horse, went through their little area of operations and made sure everything was safe for the people they were in charge of. We’re about to put on our armour and go out and free these people from an oppressive fist that they’ve been dealing with for a long time. Victory is inevitable. When the enemy chooses to fight us on the battlefield, we’ll win the direct firefight right now with overwhelming surgical firepower. Destroy him, immediately, so that he doesn’t come back tomorrow and get in the way with the civilians. Air is there but it takes a long time to get approved. But I’m telling you, look to your left and your right. You’re carrying what you need right now to win this fight. What do we need? We don’t need anything. There’s a bunch of idiots out there with AK47s and explosives made out of two by fours. You’re carrying right now what you need to win this fight.’

  When he told the marines to look to their left and right, he was telling them to look at the M16 rifles they were carrying; that they always carried. It seemed odd in this age of laser-guided missiles, remote-controlled predator drones, bomb-proof trucks and Apache Helicopters, that these marines would walk into battle with nothing but a rifle first used in Vietnam in 1963. I thought modern warfare was supposed to be like a computer game – fought from a distance, sometimes from twenty thousand feet. In comparison, this felt gladiatorial.

  ‘Alright gentlemen. I’m not gonna make this long-winded, I’ll sum it up with this. It’s killed me every day since I’ve been here, fulfilling my duty, because I’m away from the most important things in my life: my daughter and my wife. But every decision when I’m out there, for a split second it’s going to flash into my head that when I go home to them, I want them to be proud of what I did over here. I don’t want them to feel ashamed because I’m the new Haditha story [in Haditha, in Iraq, US Marines killed twenty-four people, including at least fifteen civilians, in retaliation for an IED attack]. I don’t want problems sleeping at night because I’m not sure that I did the right thing. I’m a hundred per
cent confident in each and every one of you. I couldn’t be more proud of you guys. I love you to death. Do yourselves proud. Do all the marines that came before us proud. We have centuries of ethos built on marines doing the right thing when it mattered, so do them proud. Most importantly, take care of the marine on your left and right because three days from now that’s really all that’s going to matter. Alright gentlemen, that’s all I got.’

  There was another ‘Ooh-Rah’, but it was subdued. They were sure they would take Marjah but they were also sure that everything else Captain Sparks had talked about was bound to happen. Someone would die. Someone would step on an IED. Someone would kill civilians by mistake. The rules and restrictions of counter-insurgency would make them so frustrated they’d question the point of being there in the first place.

  The Captain took the squad leaders to one side for another talk. ‘I’ve done all I can to help you out and I’ll be at the friction points to give you what you need. But this is your fight. This is the best crew of NCOs I’ve ever seen, you guys are phenomenal. Just understand that you have all my trust and confidence. If the enemy manoeuvre on us: let them. Do not get sucked in to one of their ambushes. If this thing goes kinetic, I guarantee you we will lose marines. Even if it doesn’t, based on the IED threat, it is very likely that we will lose marines. It is up to you guys to honour the marines we lose by maintaining the focus in the right direction. Don’t let emotions control you. The fight is still there to be won. We have to win the people. Trying to take somebody out for revenge, complaining about the ROEs or letting your marines go feral and crazy: that will significantly deteriorate the combat effectiveness of this company. You are the barrier, you are the ones that will make or break us there. Treat these people like you would the victims of Hurricane Katrina or down in Haiti; just another bunch of people that need our help. Then you’ll come out on top, I guarantee it. Let your guys relax but don’t let anybody go off on their own and worry about this too much. At this point, it is what it is. The beautiful thing about being in our situation is, there’s no decision to make. There’s only one way out and that’s through it.’