by Oliver North
A British officer, here on this third combat tour, described what happened, "When I arrived here in 2002, the city was thriving. We were told that the Afghan Army and National police were coming here and we were to train them. UN NGOs (non-governmental organizations) from all over the world came here to help the people. The army and police never came. But the Taliban did. They poisoned the wells, killed the livestock, burned the orchards, and told the people to leave—and they left."
Daylight patrols have become hunts for IEDs planted by the Taliban. On one such patrol, Chris Jackson and I watched as Marine SSgt Mark Randolph Smith, an Explosive Ordnance Disposal specialist, disarmed four of the deadly devices by blowing them up. His predecessor was killed while attempting to disarm an IED. Our videotape shows SSgt Smith placing the demolition charges. He has remarkably steady hands.
At night the Marines and the British send out sniper teams and ambush patrols to keep the Taliban from approaching the allied perimeters. Under NATO rules of engagement, the small U.S. and British forces in Now Zad aren't allowed to initiate contact. But, if they are fired on by the Taliban or see enemy combatants emplacing IEDs, they can declare "troops in contact"—a "TIC" in military vernacular—and they are supposed to get whatever support they need.
One night while we were in Now Zad, a Marine sniper team declared a TIC and called for close air support. It turned out that the only "air on station" was a B-1 "Lancer." From 60,000 feet, more than eleven miles in the sky, the USAF bomber put three 500 lb, laser-guided bombs directly on a dozen Taliban insurgents hunting for the outnumbered Marines.
Unfortunately, that kind of "back-up" isn't always available from NATO—particularly for helicopter support to units like "FOX 2/7" in remote locations like Now Zad. Because enemy contact has been so intense and casualty evacuation so tenuous, "F" Company now has its own shock trauma platoon headed by Commander James Hancock, a U.S. Navy surgeon.
Thanking Sgt Jace Halley for his service before we head back to Camp Bastion
To ensure the wounded receive immediate lifesaving treatment, he and his corpsmen mounted a steel container on the back of a flatbed truck and outfitted it as a mobile operating room. The "Doc in a box" already has saved more than a half-dozen lives. When I asked Dr. Hancock whether his battlefield innovations are being adopted as "doctrine," he replied, "Not yet, but I'm working on it."
These young Americans have responded to this difficult mission in Afghanistan with tenacity, selfless bravery, and creative resourcefulness. That's why Sgt. Maj. Matthew Brookshire, the senior noncommissioned officer in TF 2/7 refers to his charges as "the quiet professionals."
CAMP BASTION, HELMAND PROVINCE, AFGHANISTAN, AUGUST 16, 2008
We left Now Zad the way we came—in a British CH-47 helicopter. It brought us back to Camp Bastion where we arranged for delivery of equipment to replace the gear destroyed in the IED attack on August 3.
Returning to this big British base also allowed us to do some things we hadn't been able to do in Now Zad: remove our flak jackets, take off our helmets, take a shower, eat fresh food, take a shower, use a light at night, take a shower, sleep, and take a shower. Getting back to Bastion also permitted us to conduct interviews and file reports on the frustrations expressed by the troops we'd been covering.
Much of their dissatisfaction is aimed at the lack of accurate reporting by the U.S. media. It's a valid complaint. During our entire time in Afghanistan, we did not meet a single American reporter from a major media outlet.
Though American and coalition casualties have been nearly seven times higher in Afghanistan than in Iraq during 2008, the campaign against a resurgent Taliban remains widely underreported in the U.S. press. That's why so many of our countrymen are unaware of the courage, commitment, and sacrifice demonstrated by the 33,000 U.S. soldiers, sailors, airmen, and Marines serving and fighting in the shadows of the Hindu Kush. Their stories are profoundly stirring. Following are a few examples from our experience.
On July 23, 2007, Lance Cpl. Garrett Jones was a fire team leader on patrol near Fallujah, Iraq, with 2nd Battalion, 7th Marines, when an IED detonated practically beneath him, shredding his left leg. At the hospital, surgeons amputated the shattered limb above the knee to save his life.
Cpl. Garrett Jones
Today Garrett Jones is a Corporal, still with 2/7 and serving here in Afghanistan. In less than a year, he has suffered life-threatening wounds; recuperated from surgery; endured rehabilitation; been fitted with a prosthetic leg; proved he can perform in combat; and returned to the fight. An avid snowboarder, he plans to compete in the 2010 Paralympics in Vancouver, British Columbia.
Cpl. Jones could have taken a disability discharge and a pension for his wounds. Instead, he fought to stay on active duty and to return to a war zone with those he calls his "battle buddies." When I asked him why, he replied, "These are my brothers. I want to be where they are and continue to make a difference." He is.
Morale is surprisingly high despite the brutal conditions
While we were embedded with TF 2/7, the battalion suffered a dozen serious casualties. Three Marines, Lance Cpl. Juan Lopez-Castaneda, Lance Cpl. Jacob Toves, and Cpl. Anthony Mihalo were killed in action by improvised explosive devices. One of the wounded, Lance Cpl. Bryan Fisher, was flown to the British shock-trauma hospital at Camp Bastion. This is an excerpt from a message sent to me by the battalion's chaplain, Lt. Russ Hale:
"I went to the hospital to see LCpl Fisher, the 'E' Co. Marine who was wounded in the IED attack and had the unenviable task of sharing with him the names of the KIA from his platoon that were evacuated after him. Like any human, he broke down and began to weep at the loss of his friends and brothers-in-arms. We spoke for a bit about loss and grief and how these kinds of events are not something a person 'gets over,' rather, we 'get through' and with God's grace, we learn to cope in a healthy manner. As our conversation turned towards ways to honor the loss of his friends and his own future, LCpl. Fisher floored me with his plans, 'I'm glad I'll be here at 'Bastion' for awhile before I go back to the field. This will give me time to process my re-enlistment paperwork to stay in 2/7 and then I can return to my guys.'
"Here is a Marine who just lost three of his friends, could easily have been number 4 of the KIA's, and his way of honoring his friends is to re-enlist to stay in the same battalion in order to return to the same place his friends were killed so that he can continue to carry the fight to the enemy. And what's most important is that his actions are not an act of vengeance but an act of love; a way to honor his comrades. He inspires me."
Stories such as these should inspire you, as well. Too bad the arbiters of the press so rarely bother to cover them.
With a Marine Special Operator and the Afghan Commandos
SHINDAND AIRBASE, HERAT PROVINCE
AFGHANISTAN, AUGUST 17–19, 2008
Our FOX News War Stories team arrived at this former Soviet military base aboard a USAF MC-130 "Combat Talon." As usual, it was the middle of the night. Sitting in the cockpit wearing night vision goggles, I was actually looking up at the mountain peaks just off our wingtips as we soared through the valleys to this airbase built in 1980, about fifty miles east of the Iranian border.
We came here to embed with the 207th Afghan Commando Battalion and their U.S. Special Operations Command, Army, Marine, and Air Force counterparts. These U.S. "Special Operators," under the command of Combined Joint Special Operations Task Force-Afghanistan (CJSOTF-A) are nothing short of remarkable. All are volunteers and most have extensive experience in counterinsurgency campaigns. They had to prevail in an extraordinarily difficult selection process and then endure months of rigorous training just to be here.
As with their counterparts in the Philippines and Iraq, with whom our War Stories team has been embedded, we cannot show their faces or use their full names. For obvious reasons in a global fight against Islamic radicals, most of
these Americans have beards—even the Marines. They often wear indigenous garb, use local vehicles, and employ non-standard weapons.
Though CJSOTF-A units conduct unilateral operations against high-value targets, their primary day-to-day mission here is to train, equip, advise, and support host-nation Special Operations forces. Here it is the 207th Afghan Commando Battalion, led by Lt. Col. Abdul Jabar, a professional soldier from the National Army.
Afghan Commandos at the firing range
Early in the morning of our first day at Shindand, the 207th and their U.S. Army, Marine, and Air Force advisors began preparing for a raid to capture or kill a high-level Taliban suspect alleged to be masterminding a rash of IED attacks. The target was believed to be hiding out in a valley about 15 km south of the base.
Intelligence reports and aerial photographs were used to construct a "sand-table" of the objective area and each member of the raid party was briefed on his assigned task during the operation. That afternoon the commandos conducted a full rehearsal for the mission and "zeroed in" their weapons on the range. At day's end the troops were told to be prepared to "mount up" at 0300 so they could be on the objective at dawn.
Preparation for the raid was near flawless to this old tactics instructor. There was only one problem with the mission. The following morning, as the commandos were closing in to surround and seal off the target area, the Afghan Interior Ministry in Kabul ordered them to halt about a kilometer short of the objective.
The U.S. Army and Marine Spec-Ops personnel launched furious objections over secure radio and data circuits to no avail. By the time the commandos received a "go ahead" order, the sun was high above the horizon and the element of surprise was lost. When they entered the walled compound where the Taliban kingpin and his supporters were supposed to have been, they were already gone.
Afterward one of the U.S. Special Operators said to me, "The biggest obstacle to success here in Afghanistan is the government in Kabul." At the time he said it, we didn't know how much more of a problem Kabul would become.
AZIZ ABAD, HERAT PROVINCE, AFGHANISTAN, AUGUST 22–28, 2008
A Taliban sentry fired the first shots shortly after 0230 as the Afghan commandos and U.S. Special Operations Command troops surrounded the compound at Aziz Abad. Though the Marine Special Operations Team employed a daring deception to achieve surprise, they were engaged by heavy gunfire from AK-47s and machine guns almost immediately after deploying at the objective.
Afghan Commandos and U.S. Spec Ops troops under fire at Aziz Abad
For the next two and a half hours, the 207th Afghan Commandos and their U.S. Army and Marine counterparts were in a running gunfight with heavily armed Taliban fighters inside the walled compound. When enemy combatants on rooftops and in narrow alleyways could not be dislodged by fire from U.S. and Afghan troops on the ground, they were hit by supporting fire from manned and unmanned aircraft overhead.
By dawn on 23 August, the commandos and their American advisers seemed to have achieved a stunning success. Credible information received after a town meeting with local tribal leaders revealed the timing and location of a Taliban gathering. The human intelligence was carefully confirmed and U.S. Special Operations Command officers sat down with their Afghan commando counterparts to carefully plan a raid to take several key Taliban leaders into custody—or if necessary—to kill them. Cameraman Chris Jackson and I accompanied the raid force.
To us and the U.S. and Afghan troops we were covering, it appeared they were victorious. Though one U.S. Marine Special Operator was wounded in the fray, a senior Taliban leader and twenty-five of his fighters were dead. A major Taliban arms cache was located and destroyed. Weapons, ammunition, communications equipment, materials for making improvised explosive devices, and thousands of dollars in cash were confiscated.
As the commandos withdrew from the objective shortly after sunrise, they gently treated and evacuated a woman and her child wounded in the crossfire. Our FOX News cameras captured the battle on videotape, including the careful treatment of noncombatants. Unfortunately, the good news quickly turned bad.
While we were en route back to the base from which the raid had been launched, the U.S. ground force commander received a report over the radio that pro-Taliban agitators were already asserting "the Americans (had) killed thirty civilians." The claims and alleged number of civilian casualties quickly escalated.
Shortly after noon, Iranian television reported, "A U.S. air strike south of Herat in western Afghanistan has killed more than fifty innocent civilians, including women and children." To counter these reports, U.S. aircraft transported Afghan and foreign reporters to the special operations base so they could see the confiscated weapons and other evidence for themselves. It didn't help.
Hamid Karzai called for an investigation of the incident
That evening, as we filed our full story with videotape of the raid and an interview with a U.S. Special Forces officer, unnamed "sources" at the Ministry of the Interior in Kabul were telling reporters seventy-six civilians were killed. Little attention was paid to the destroyed Taliban arms and equipment at the objective or to the care provided to the wounded woman and her child.
By the morning of August 24, little more than twenty-four hours after the operation, the international press wires and mainstream news outlets were carrying cell phone photos of damaged buildings and an Afghan human rights organization was charging that eighty-eight civilians—among them twenty women and fifty children—were killed by U.S. forces. Later that day President Hamid Karzai first called for an investigation and then denounced the operation. Though only eighteen new graves were evident in nearby cemeteries and no local civilians had sought medical treatment for wounds, the number of noncombatant casualties allegedly inflicted in the raid continued to rise.
On August 25, with several investigations underway but not yet complete, the commando battalion commander was "suspended." That evening, in a report on Fox News, I noted that neither cameraman Chris Jackson nor I saw any noncombatants killed and "the Taliban and their supporters are running a very effective propaganda campaign to discredit coalition efforts. Exaggerated claims of damage often result in demands for more money in compensation."
The next day, without ever visiting the village, the United Nations Assistance Mission in Afghanistan determined that ninety civilians were killed during the raid at Aziz Abad. Then, as we were departing for Herat, we were informed the government in Kabul was offering $200,000 to settle the claims and was planning new restrictions on Special Operations Command missions. None of the media coverage bothered to mention the civil-affairs projects, re-construction work, or medical support being provided by CJSOTF-A.
The furor over the Aziz Abad raid continued even after we returned home. Eventually an investigation by U.S. Special Operations Command concluded that thirty Afghans were killed in the raid. As is often the case in counterinsurgency operations, there are disputes as to who was and who was not a non-combatant before the shooting started.
I lost fifteen pounds during the month in Afghanistan
KABUL, AFGHANISTAN, AUGUST 30, 2008
We're finally headed home, where there are paved roads, no Russian landmines, and the man standing at the next intersection isn't going to blow himself to pieces trying to kill me, my family, and my friends. At home, drinkable water comes out of a faucet, not just from a plastic bottle. Home is where meals come on plates, not in brown plastic bags, and we have air conditioning and fresh green vegetables, and showers last as long as we want. At home, we go to work in coats and ties instead of body armor and helmets. At home, our vehicles don't have turrets and if we drive after dark, we use headlights instead of night-vision goggles. At home, "overhead cover" is protection from the elements, not a defense from enemy rocket or mortar fire.
In America, we take all these things for granted. Here in the shadows of the Hindu Kush, however, ignoring an
y of them could get a soldier, sailor, airman, Guardsman, or Marine killed. Unfortunately, the so-called mainstream media has ignored this fight for so long few in the U.S. are even aware of the challenges confronting our 33,000 troops in this always difficult and often dangerous place. For the benefit of those who care, here are some particulars the potentates of the press have overlooked. First, the bad news:
–Islamic radicals know their cause is lost in Iraq, so remnants of the Taliban, al-Qaeda and foreign fighters, intent on joining a jihad against the West, are flooding into Afghanistan from Pakistan and Iran. Factions in both neighboring countries are providing safe havens, training, and material support to those who want to overthrow the democratically elected government in Kabul.
–Despite seven years of United Nations and NATO "assistance" to Afghanistan, the Afghan National Army and Police have fewer than 65,000 troops and the country still has only one paved highway (Route 1, the "Ring Road"). As we were reminded firsthand on this trip, the dirt tracks passing for roads here are laced with landmines and improvised explosive devices, causing numerous U.S. and Afghan casualties and isolating the population.
–Illicit drug production—heroin/opium/hashish/marijuana, the only real export commodity in the country—is an enormous criminal enterprise, generating more than $5 billion in cash to benefit the Taliban and corrupt officials in the Afghan government.