by Oliver North
The regime that the U.S. targeted in Kabul was easily one of the most brutal on earth. From 1992 to 1996, the Taliban had waged a bitter civil war against the fractious Mujahadeen of the United Islamic Front (UIF) that had driven the Soviets out of Afghanistan. When they finally took power in the capital, Taliban theocrats, led by the eccentric Mullah Mohammed Omar, imposed absolute Islamic law over the Afghan population within their control and rewrote the rogue-state rule book on repression.
Universities and museums were closed. Girls were forbidden to go to school. Women were required to cover themselves completely with a burka and denied the right to work outside the home or even travel unless accompanied by their husband or a male relative. All music, television, dancing, and public entertainment were banned. Islamic courts enforced the law with public beatings, amputations, hangings, and beheadings—often carried out as public spectacles.
To some, the Taliban's worst offense was the destruction of the cliffside Buddhas in the Bamyan Valley. These were fifteen-hundred-year-old sculptures carved in sandstone. But in reality, the Taliban's greatest crime was to provide refuge and support to a radical Saudi multimillionaire, already well established as a radical Islamic terrorist: Osama bin Laden.
From 1996 to 2001, under the patronage and protection of the Taliban, bin Laden's Al Qaeda grew into a powerful global network of terrorists from every Islamic country on earth. In radical mosques, "cultural centers," charities, and madrassas—many of which he founded—bin Laden found willing recruits for his Jihad. The Taliban provided a safe place to train and direct them. By September of 2001, Al Qaeda "holy warriors" from Saudi Arabia, Egypt, the United Arab Emirates, Palestine, Lebanon, Chechnya, and Pakistan were serving as the Taliban's "palace guard." And Osama had already set in motion everything necessary for the 9/11 attacks. As we learned too late, it had all been plotted and planned from his Afghan sanctuary.
On 20 September President Bush, in a televised address to a joint session of Congress, demanded that the Taliban turn over bin Laden and all other Al Qaeda leaders, close the Afghan terror camps, release all foreign hostages, and allow U.S. inspections to ensure compliance. The Islamic radicals running Kabul rejected this ultimatum less than twenty-four hours later.
Over the course of the next two weeks, U.S. military Special Operations teams and CIA paramilitary officers were moved into position to support an offensive by the UIF, now dubbed the "Northern Alliance." Equipped with sophisticated satellite communications equipment, they reported to Central Command and CIA headquarters that, despite the assassination of one of its most effective leaders, the Northern Alliance was ready to move against the Taliban.
On 9 September, just two days before nineteen of bin Laden's radical Islamists hijacked four airliners in the U.S., three other Al Qaeda suicide terrorists posing as a TV crew detonated a bomb that severely wounded Ahmed Shah Massoud. He was the most effective, pro-Western leader in the anti-Taliban coalition. Massoud died of his injuries three days later, and Mohammed Fahim, a fellow Tajik, took over as the military leader of the Northern Alliance. Though less than certain of Fahim's ability to control this fractious anti-Taliban coalition, both the CIA and Special Operations Command officers on the ground sent a "good to go" signal back to Washington.
By the first week of October even Mullah Omar and the Taliban elite in Kabul were aware that their days could be numbered. Late on Saturday, 6 October, the Pakistani government informed Washington that the Taliban would be willing to put bin Laden on trial before one of their "Islamic courts" if the U.S. could provide "proof" of his complicity in the 9/11 attacks. President Bush immediately rejected this proposal as a delaying tactic and ordered the commencement of military operations.
29 September 2001
President Bush:
"This war will be fought wherever terrorists hide or run or plan. Some victories will be won outside of public view, in tragedies avoided and threats eliminated. Other victories will be clear to all. Our weapons are military and diplomatic, financial and legal."
A NEW KIND OF WAR
Aviation ordnancemen load a two-thousand-pound joint direct attack munition (JDAM) bomb on an aircraft.
The first strikes, on the night of 7 October 2001, were near-simultaneous raids on Taliban air defenses, command, control, and communica-tions nodes and suspected Al Qaeda bases by sea-launched Tomahawk cruise missiles, B-1 and B-52 bombers from Diego Garcia, and U.S. Navy and Marine aircraft operating from carriers in the Arabian Sea and the Gulf of Oman. In just two nights of heavy precision bombing, the Taliban lost all their anti-aircraft radars and missile systems except for man-portable machine guns and surface-to-air missiles.
Within forty-eight hours of the start of hostilities, U.S. aircraft were roaming freely, day and night, over Afghanistan, dismantling the Taliban's military power with some of the most sophisticated weapons in the U.S. inventory. B-2 "Spirit" stealth bombers made scores of nonstop round trips from their bases in Missouri to drop precision guided munitions on Taliban and Al Qaeda positions. Armed Predator drones loitered over the landscape, sending "real time" streaming video to U.S. commanders searching for "high value" targets. And from bases in Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Tajikistan, now protected by U.S. Army Rangers and elements of the 10th Mountain Division, intelligence officers "listened in" on Taliban and Al Qaeda satellite and cellular telephone communications.
A B-2 Spirit stealth bomber
A B-1 bomber being refueled by a KC-135 Stratotanker
An Air Force MQ-1B Predator goes out on patrol
On the ground, the Northern Alliance—bolstered by U.S. Special Forces teams equipped with night vision devices, laser target designators, and satellite communications equipment—moved to exploit the Taliban-Al Qaeda disarray. Afghans were awed by the ability of the U.S. to put "smart bombs" on target—more than two thousand of them—and by the visible presence of Americans in the fight. Thousands rallied to the Northern Alliance.
Army PVT Robert Sheppard, a heavy weapons specialist, scans the horizon while on patrol outside Kandahar Air Base, Afghanistan
By 21 October, two weeks after the initiation of hostilities, Afghanis who had once fought for opposing "war lords" against one another were flocking to join the anti-Taliban cause. Many of them, particularly in the south, joined to help evict "the Arabs"—meaning Al Qaeda—from their country. Many in the media predicted that Afghanistan's fabled ethnic and tribal rivalries would prevent a cohesive campaign against the Taliban. But one member of the Special Operations forces summed it up this way: "You don't have to beat 'em if you can buy 'em."
On 9 November Northern Alliance forces, supported by U.S. Special Forces—some on horseback—drove the Taliban and their Al Qaeda allies out of their provincial stronghold at Mazar-i-Sharif. Three days later, Alliance troops were in Kabul, and the Taliban were in retreat to the southern city of Kandahar and the Afghan-Pakistan border with the Northern Alliance and their U.S. counterparts in hot pursuit.
Northern Alliance soldiers were essential in toppling the Taliban
As the Americans and their Alliance allies moved deeper into the country, the magnitude of what the Afghan people had been suffering for years became painfully evident. Tens of thousands of civilians were fleeing the fighting, and the onset of winter was just weeks away. To alleviate their suffering, President Bush ordered air drops of food, water, and relief supplies and established America's Fund for Afghan Children. In response to his appeal for each American child to donate a dollar, millions were raised. When the first shipment was sent to Afghanistan on 10 December 2001, it included 1,500 winter tents, 1,685 coats, and 10,000 packages containing hats, socks, toothbrushes, candy, and toys.
All of this was accomplished without the loss of a single American killed by the enemy. But that was about to change.
An Afghan man and his son transport hay for making bricks
While bombs were still being dropped on Taliban and
Al Qaeda holdouts, the U.S. government delivered more than $250 million in humanitarian aid to the people of Afghanistan. The Taliban responded by warning the refugees that the food was poisoned. Much of our mainstream media reaction was to point out that errant U.S. bombs had also killed civilians. Thus most of the cameras missed poignant stories such as that of Ashley, Aubrey, Alana, and Alyssa Welch. Their father, LTC Tracy Welch, had narrowly escaped the crash of American Airlines flight 77 into the west wall of the Pentagon on 9/11. When the girls attempted to donate blood, they were told that they were too young. So they organized four neighborhood car wash events and raised $10,000.
THE FIRST AMERICAN CASUALTY
American forces supporting the Northern Alliance troops included members of the CIA's ultrasecret Special Activities Division (SAD). Johnny "Mike" Spann was among them.
After rising to the rank of captain in the Marine Corps in 1999, Mike joined the CIA and became a member of the agency's paramilitary unit in the Directorate of Operations. Dozens of paramilitary officers—the actual number is still classified—were dispatched to Afghanistan to assist U.S. Special Operations forces in equipping, arming, training, and supporting the troops flooding into the Northern Alliance. After the attack on 9/11, Mike Spann was among the first in the SAD to volunteer for duty in Afghanistan.
During the last week of September, SAD operatives were deployed to establish a forward base for military Special Operations detachments which soon followed. Once on site, Mike and his teammates "vetted" Afghanis for duty with the Northern Alliance, organized intelligence collection and analysis cells for operations against the Taliban and Al Qaeda, and conducted counter-intelligence activities.
During the fight for Mazar-i-Sharif, more than three hundred Taliban fighters surrendered and were taken into custody by Northern Alliance forces and imprisoned in the city's nineteenth-century fortress. Because the detainees had potential intelligence value on the capabilities and whereabouts of key Taliban and Al Qaeda kingpins, SAD officers were assigned the task of interrogating them.
Northern Alliance soldiers
On 25 November, Mike Spann and his partner arrived at the prison and began to conduct interrogations. That's how they discovered that one of the detainees wasn't an Afghan at all. He was an American named John Walker Lindh. According to Lindh, he was a convert to Islam and had traveled first to Pakistan and then to Afghanistan with the intention of joining Al Qaeda.
Shortly after being interrogated by Spann, Lindh and his fellow prisoners overpowered their guards and murdered Mike Spann with two gunshots to the head, making him the first American casualty of the War on Terror.
Mike Spann was thirty-two years old when he died at the hands of a murderous countryman who had joined the Jihad. Mike left behind his widow, Shannon Spann, an infant son, and two young daughters.
Mike Spann's family at Arlington National Cemetery
THE MARINES ENTER THE FRAY
The same day that Mike Spann was killed in the Mazar-i-Sharif prison uprising, the first U.S. "conventional forces"—the 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU)—landed in Afghanistan. Over the course of four days and nights, I was given the unique opportunity to document, firsthand, just how sensitive and difficult this entire operation was. A brief chronology of my journey reflects the extraordinary challenges in this campaign and how creative and courageous young Americans overcame them.
The concept of "embedding" correspondents with combat units had not yet been "re-invented" at the Pentagon. This meant that dozens of reporters and broadcast news crews were "stranded" in Bahrain waiting for clearances and credentials that would allow them "in-country." Some caught commercial flights to Pakistan and braved the dangerous overland drive across the border into Afghanistan. Not all of them made it.
Since my job was to document how Americans fight, FOX News dispatched me and Executive Producer Pam Browne to the headquarters of the U.S. Fifth Fleet. This was the naval component—made up of ships, sailors, and Marines—for the U.S. Central Command. As soon as we arrived in Bahrain, I called on an old friend and Naval Academy classmate, Vice Admiral Charles W. "Willie" Moore, the Fifth Fleet's commander. In a matter of minutes, he arranged for me to link up with U.S. forces heading into Afghanistan.
A Navy C-2 prepares for takeoff
Before dawn we arrived at the Bahrain Naval Air Facility to catch a Navy C-2 "COD" for the three-hour flight to the USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71) in the Arabian Sea. The twin-engine turbo-prop, packed with replacement personnel and critically needed equipment, was hastily offloaded when we reached the Theodore Roosevelt's flight deck so strike aircraft could continue to launch and recover.
For the entire twelve hours we were aboard the "Big Stick," the nuclear-powered carrier launched and recovered a near-continuous stream of bomb-laden F-14 Tomcats and F-18 Hornets for their six- to eight-hour-long missions over Afghanistan. Once on station, the aircraft would either carry out preplanned strikes on known Taliban-Al Qaeda targets or provide "on-call" air support for U.S. Forward Air Controllers accompanying Northern Alliance troops. To support every strike mission, the flight deck crews also launched aerial refueling tankers, airborne command and control aircraft, electronic warfare birds, and search-and-rescue helicopters. All of these had to be "recovered." Then the cycle would begin all over again—twenty-four hours a day, every day.
After a few hours of sleep—directly beneath the flight deck steam catapults—I was summoned to the air group ready room and told that a helicopter would be arriving shortly to take us to the USS Bataan (LHD-5), one of our Navy's newest amphibious assault ships for the next step closer to Afghanistan. Our FOX News crew would be allowed to accompany a team of Navy doctors and medical corpsmen, as long as we abided by certain guidelines:
• We could not reveal where we landed until such time as we were authorized to do so.
• We could not identify the unit that we were accompanying until allowed.
• No mention could be made of any future plans or operations.
We readily agreed to these conditions and packed up. Less than an hour later we were aboard a thirty-one-year-old CH-46 "Sea Knight" helicopter for the sixty-mile over-water flight to the Bataan.
USS Bataan
At 844 feet long, the USS Bataan is more than two hundred feet shorter than the Teddy Roosevelt, but no less busy. In the brief time we were aboard, the warship took on food, fuel, bombs, ammunition, and spare parts from the USS Detroit, launched and recovered AV-8 Harriers for strikes against targets in Afghanistan, and coordinated the movement of an entire Marine infantry battalion into Afghanistan.
As darkness began to close in over the Arabian Sea, a Navy lieutenant led me below deck, handed me three life vests, pointed to the two doctors from the medical team, and said, "I know this isn't your job, Colonel, but show the docs how to put these things on. They're probably great surgeons, but they've never been to sea before."
Fifteen minutes later we were aboard the Bataan's two high-speed air cushion landing craft (LCACs) as they spun up their jet turbines for the forty-knot, thirty-minute trip to the venerable USS Shreveport (LPD-12), a ship that I had been aboard many times before.
When we arrived at the Shreveport's darkened well deck, Marine and Navy embarkation personnel were ready with trucks already loaded with tons of weapons, ammunition, food, water, and equipment. They had everything the Marines would need for fifteen days without reinforcements or resupply at Forward Operating Base "Rhino," their code word for the air base outside Kandahar. As the vital equipment was being loaded aboard the two LCACs, a Marine gunnery sergeant took me aside, handed me a flak jacket and Kevlar helmet, and said, "Everybody has to wear one, sir." He then added, "I understand that the doctors with you have never done this before. Please make sure they put their 'flaks' over their life vests, just in case y'all go swimming."
I decided not to tell the two medical officers about
the swimming part, but I did make sure their flak jackets were on top of their life jackets.
I need not have worried. Once all the equipment was loaded and it was totally dark, our LCAC pilot, a Navy chief, donned his night-vision goggles (NVGs) and we headed inland from over the horizon, flying at almost fifty knots without lights across the surface of the water.
When we arrived at "Red Beach," Navy and Marine shore party personnel leapt to the task of unloading all the supplies, personnel, and equipment; organized it all into a well-protected convoy; and trucked everything to a small but well-guarded airfield less than ten miles inland. Just moments after we arrived alongside the runway, in a remarkable demonstration of interservice coordination, a U.S. Air Force C-130 landed, hastily loaded the contents of the trucks into its cargo bay, and took off for Rhino. Though we couldn't say it at the time, Red Beach was on the coast of Pakistan.
Aviation ordnancemen transport laser-guided bomb unit-12 (GBU-12) and GPS-guided bomb unit-38 (GBU-38) to be placed in an F/A-18F Super Hornet aboard the Nimitz-class aircraft carrier USS Dwight D. Eisenhower (CVN 69) in the Arabian Sea