Notes from a forgotten War: Afghanistan.

[Sallow]

Interesting article.

Between Firefights, Jokes, Sweat and Tedium

By JAMES DAO
Published: November 21, 2010

NAHR-i-SUFI, Afghanistan — From his rooftop position, Sgt. Santiago Zapata watched the firefight begin after prayer call ended, a rocket-propelled grenade exploding as the muezzin’s voice was still fading into the Afghan dusk.


Two Sides of an Afghan Tour

Articles in this series are chronicling the yearlong deployment of the First Battalion, 87th Infantry Regiment, based in Kunduz Province, Afghanistan. The series will follow the battalion’s part in the surge in northern Afghanistan and the impact of war on individual soldiers and their families back home.

Tracer rounds whizzed overhead, mortar shells burst nearby and heavy machine guns clattered. Then as suddenly as it began, it was over. Sergeant Zapata brushed away the powdery dust that coated him like flour, walked downstairs and started to sing.

“Sometimes when we touch,” he warbled, his mind stuck on a tune recorded before he was born 30 years ago. “Hey, how does that song go?”

“The honesty’s too much,” a soldier helped.

“And I have to close my eyes and cry,” yet another continued, in a comically quavering falsetto. (The actual lyric: “And I have to close my eyes and hide.”)

For G.I.’s, life on the front lines has two sides. There are, of course, the adrenaline-fueled moments of fighting, when soldiers try to forget their fear, remember their training and watch one another’s backs.

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[Sallow]

Well..here's the last part of it..

Making Friends and Enemies

On Day 5, the company began its withdrawal from Nahr-i-Sufi. Leaving was no simple matter. The Afghan police had received reports of improvised explosive devices along the route, either strung from the trees or buried in the road. A mine-clearing team led the way, looking for both.

Trucks known as Huskies that carried metal detectors and ground-penetrating radar went first. Behind them, the 20-ton “Buffalo” used mechanical arms to probe the dirt for wires and explosives.

Somehow, they missed one. Twenty yards behind the Buffalo, a thundering explosion from a deeply buried mine tossed an armored truck into the air and left a 10-foot-deep crater.

“Welcome to H. M. E.” said Pfc. Robert Gooch, a gunner inside the Buffalo, referring to the homemade explosives containing fertilizer that their equipment had trouble detecting.

Though the mine was powerful, it had not penetrated the heavily armored truck, and injuries were not life-threatening. But for the next 20 hours the convoy remained stalled, as first a tow truck and then a crane failed to pull the truck upright. Finally, before dawn the next day, a German tank succeeded.

For the G.I.’s, the wait was excruciating. Some were stuck inside trucks. Others camped in compounds without their packs, freezing. To some, it seemed a fittingly futile end to the mission.

Clearly, they had alienated some residents of Nahr-i-Sufi. But the fighting might have also had a positive impact: shortly after it ended, an insurgent commander from a nearby village announced that he was switching sides. American commanders were convinced that their show of force was the reason. (Those commanders believe they inflicted more than a dozen casualties on the insurgents.)

For Specialist Gedert, the mission was memorable in a different way.

On a patrol, his squad had found itself in a firefight in the middle of a field. Specialist Gedert looked up and saw a man in a black robe with a Kalashnikov rifle hiding behind trees 30 yards away. He fired his automatic weapon from the hip and cut the man down.

He recalled the moment later with evident pride. “It was awesome,” he said. But then he paused and reconsidered. “And scary. It was dumb luck. It could have been me.”

Wearily, he joined his platoon mates as they unloaded their trucks back at their home base in Kunduz. A warm shower, a hot breakfast, Facebook, cigarettes and sleep were their priorities, pretty much in that order. But there was one other pressing matter.

“Got to shave,” Private Moody said as he shouldered his pack and began the trudge back to his tent.
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The Times runs these Edward Murrow type articles about a war washed from the psyche of the American mind. We need to remember and focus there are still troops in harms way. Especially now during the holidays.

We need to thank them and let them know we are a grateful nation.

 

[Mr. H.]

5 months, 14 days 'till the stepson is back home. I just hope he gets back and with his mind intact.