No Way Out

by Mitch Weiss

  Howard had eight commandos in his group. Every patrol was broken up into three groups: assault, support, and security. Howard was in charge of the support group. As the two assault teams, one led by Walding and Staff Sergeant Dave Sanders and the other by Walton, moved toward the village, Howard would cover them. When they got a foothold, Howard and his men would move up and try to provide support by fire and start clearing houses, too. In a way, he was like a third assault team since most of the cover fire would come from the circling Apache gunships.

  They had originally talked about taking a mortar. But in order to shoot it, they would have to clear every shot with the jets and attack helicopters in the airspace above since the rounds are fired in a high arc at a target.

  But bringing the Carl G was tough because the weapon was heavy.

  Howard remembered watching the wild promotional videos of guys running through the woods with the weapon. The gunner with the actual tube and his assistant carried the rounds in a suitcase. When they reached the target, the gunner sat down and the assistant loaded it up. Howard didn’t see it going down that way. He had never carried the ammunition around like a suitcase.

  Most times, guys took the rounds out of the plastic cases and threw them in the back of their assault packs. But the rounds can get damaged. Instead, Howard had taken the rounds, which came in a case of two, and ran half-inch nylon through the loops on the sides of the plastic cases. Grabbing his Afghans, he threaded the nylon through loops on the back of their body armor. When he was done, the men had what looked like little jet packs.

  With everybody on board, he settled in near the front and closed his eyes. He recalled a passage from Eric Haney’s book, Inside Delta Force, a lesson he took to heart. Don’t stand if you can sit down. Don’t sit down if you can lie down. Don’t lie down if you can be asleep.

  He knew Walton and the crew chief on the bird would wake him up with the one-minute warning when they reached the Shok Valley. So, as the engines whined and the bird picked up off the flight line, Howard dozed off.

  11

  Morales

  The ride in the Chinook was a little bumpy, but Morales hardly noticed. Flying in helicopters had become second nature. And in Afghanistan, it was the most efficient way to travel. Humvees were fine for transporting troops a short distance—but you couldn’t use them on most Afghanistan roads, which were too narrow, pockmarked, muddy in the spring, and snow-covered in the winter, especially heading toward mountain passes.

  Helicopters were the main mode of transportation for troops, and Chinooks were the workhorses. With iconic twin rotors, the CH-47 could hold up to fifty soldiers and fly up to 196 miles per hour. But they also were big targets, and that’s why it was always dangerous for them to land in valleys. Insurgents on high ground could use them for target practice, firing RPGs and mortars and machines guns. When that happened, it was difficult for aircraft gunners to effectively return fire. They had to be careful of hitting the rotors.

  Morales tried not to think about it. He had to exude confidence because he knew the Afghan commandos took their cue from the team. If he and the other Special Forces soldiers appeared calm and in control—like this operation was another routine day in the field—the commandos would relax and stay focused. This was critical for this mission.

  In a planning meeting days earlier with Walton and Ford, Morales had told them the team should expect to meet “moderate to heavy resistance because the people of the Shok Valley have not given in to anybody. Anything that has come into that province, they have resisted,” Morales warned. And he made a dire prediction: “If we’re spotted, they will be coming after us.”

  As an intelligence specialist, Morales knew all about Afghanistan’s long, complicated, and troubled history.

  For centuries, Afghanistan had been incorporated into a series of empires, and a succession of invading armies had passed through it. But as many empires discovered—including the British and later the Soviets—Afghans were fiercely independent people willing to fight foreign invaders.

  In a way, the land that is now Afghanistan was a victim of location. It was a major crossroads in trade routes linking East and West. European and Mediterranean countries craved many of the exotic Eastern wares—silk, spices, ivory, gold—and the quickest overland routes for centuries crossed Afghanistan.

  Archaeologists have traced the human history of Afghanistan back thousands of years, with the first inhabitants settling in the remote northeastern part of the country, including what is present day Nuristan—the site of the Shok Valley. But the beginning of the recorded culture began in about 550 BC when much of Afghanistan was part of the Achaemenid Empire or Persia. The empire built roads and cities in provinces known as satrapies. But the empire was plagued by constant bitter and bloody tribal revolts from Afghans living in Kandahar and other areas.

  After Persia fell to Alexander the Great in 330 BC, the conqueror turned his attention to Afghanistan. While he conquered Afghanistan—and used Afghanistan as a gateway to India—he failed to subjugate its people. Like Persian rulers before him, Alexander was plagued by bitter Afghan revolts. When Alexander died in 323 BC, much of the fragile empire he created quickly broke up and was divided among his generals.

  The Arabs introduced Islam to Afghanistan in 652—and forced conversions—but the Islamic era began in earnest with the Ghaznavid dynasty in 962. That’s when a Turkish slave named Alp Tigin marched his armies on Ghazni and set up an Islamic state. His successors annexed Kabul, Bost, Balkh, Herat, and parts of western Persia. Within a short period, Ghazni established itself as one of the nerve centers of the Islamic world. But that ended in 1219, when Mongol leader Genghis Khan, a brilliant military commander, swept through Asia, conquering Afghanistan along the way. His army was particularly brutal in Afghanistan, massacring many Afghans and destroying cities, including Kabul, temples, and irrigation systems, which turned fertile soil back into deserts.

  Over the next five hundred years, descendants of earlier tribal rulers and empires wrestled to reassert control over Afghanistan. But every time a foreign regime gained a foothold, the Afghans pushed back. There were centuries of instability and bloodshed, especially with the neighboring Persians, who, under Safavid dynasty, captured large swaths of Afghanistan in the 1500s. Through it all, there were times when Afghan tribal leaders rose up and united the masses with promises of unifying the country, creating an independent Afghanistan.

  Dost Muhammad Khan was such a leader. In the early nineteenth century, he tried to bring the country together and was even proclaimed as Amir al-Mu’minin—commander of the faithful. But in 1836, the British invaded. It was the first of three bitter wars between the two nations over the next eighty years.

  It wasn’t until 1919—after British forces again tried to bring the country under its sphere of influence by assassinating Afghan king Emir Habibul-lah Khan—that the nation was finally united. Habibullah’s son—Amir Amanulla Khan—won independence for his people, and pushed pro-Western reforms in education and gender equality.

  It was the beginning of the modern struggle between religious and secular leaders—a schism that continues to this day.

  Afghanistan was in a state of chaos until Zahir Shah became the king in 1933. A year later, the United States formally recognized Afghanistan, which remained a monarchy for the next four decades.

  But in 1973, while Zahir Shah was on vacation, his government was overthrown in a military coup, and General Daoud Khan abolished the monarchy and declared himself president and Afghanistan a republic.

  That crisis triggered a series of events that led to the Soviet occupation, the rise of the Taliban and Al Qaeda, and the American presence in Afghanistan.

  When Daoud Khan assumed power, he started to oust suspected opponents from his government until he was killed in 1978 in a bloody Communist coup by the leftish People’s Democratic Party. (Afghanistan’s Communist Party was formed in 1965.)

  While the party instituted social changes,
there was little love lost between the party’s ruling factions. Meanwhile, the conservative Islamic and ethnic leaders who objected to the social changes began armed revolt in the countryside.

  A power struggle ensued between leftist leaders Hafizullah Amin and Nur Muhammad Taraki. In 1979, Amin won, but the revolts in the countryside continued, and the Afghan army faced total collapse.

  This was at the height of the cold war—and the Soviets, like other nations in Afghanistan’s bleak history, wanted to maintain its influence in a strategic part of the world.

  Looking to prop up a weak pro-Communist government, the Soviets sent in troops to help remove Amin, who was executed. In 1980, Babrak Karmal was installed as ruler, backed by Soviet troops.

  But antiregime resistance intensified with various mujahedeen groups fighting Soviet forces. (They would later include Osama bin Laden and Gulbuddin Hekmatyar.) A strange coalition—the United States, Pakistan, China, the Islamic Republic of Iran, and Saudi Arabia—began supplying money and arms.

  The United States began supplying the mujahedeen with stinger missiles to shoot down Soviet helicopters, and Karmal was replaced by Muhammad Najibullah as head of the Soviet-backed regime. In 1988, the Soviets signed peace accords and agreed to withdraw, and a year later the last Soviet troops retreated. But as with most Afghanistan conflicts, the war continued as the mujahedeen pushed to overthrow Najibullah.

  By 1992, the resistance closed in on Kabul and Najibullah fell from power. Four years later, the Taliban seized control of Kabul, and instituted a hard-line version of Islam, banning women from work and introducing Islamic punishments, which include death by stoning and amputations for violating Islamic law. Meanwhile, the Taliban leadership began to allow former mujahedeen leaders, like Osama bin Laden, to set up terrorist training camps.

  And those leaders began exporting a new brand of terrorism, one based on extremist Islamic views.

  Osama bin Laden in 1998 was accused of masterminding the bombing of U.S. embassies in Africa. In 2001, the Taliban ordered religious minorities to wear tags identifying themselves as non-Muslims.

  Then on September 11, 2001, the Islamic extremists struck in the heart of the United States.

  The outrage and call for justice was swift. Within a month, the United States and Great Britain launched air strikes against the Taliban, and that December, Afghan political groups gathered in Germany to form an interim government. Hamid Karzai was chosen as chairman. And in late 2002, Special Forces—working with the CIA—persuaded tribal leaders to side with them to oust the Taliban. They did, and in a short time, the Taliban ws driven from power.

  And once again, Afghanistan was an independent country.

  But the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. Even after the Taliban was removed from power, the fighting continued between the insurgents—mostly Al Qaeda supporters, including the Taliban—and U.S.-led United Nations Coalition forces. Most of the battles took place in remote areas of the country, although there were terrorist attacks in the major cities, including Kabul and Kandahar.

  Morales only hoped that one day Afghanistan would be at peace. Maybe the U.S. presence would help. That’s why U.S. troops were there: to help defeat the HIG, Taliban, and Al Qaeda, and help restore order to a nation long plagued by chaos.

  He knew Afghans could be warm and friendly. During his two deployments, he had met some wonderful Afghans, including CK, the team’s lead interpreter, who was standing near the tailgate with Walding and Sanders.

  CK’s real name was Edris Khan. But everyone called him CK, a nickname that he said stood for “Combat Killer.” During the course of the deployment, CK had become extremely close with many team members, but perhaps with no one more than Morales. CK had become his little brother, and Morales was extremely protective of him. CK followed Morales everywhere, and was by his side on most missions. But on this operation, CK was assigned to the command and control element. CK was upset, and had made one last appeal to Morales.

  “Luis, we’re always together, man,” CK said.

  “Yeah, man, but you’re such an asset. You’re going to be part of the main effort when you go up there. We need you up there. You’re that important,” Morales told him.

  And it was no bullshit.

  CK had become invaluable to the team.

  At only five feet five inches tall, CK was a skinny but muscular guy who spent hours in the gym. Outgoing, he always seemed to have a smile on his face, and believed that women liked him because he had “handsome dark features”—short black hair and dark brown eyes. Morales thought CK looked Latino and could pass as an American. And CK wanted nothing more than to be a member of Special Forces. He spoke four languages—English, Pashto, Dari, and Nuristani—and had learned how to read grid coordinates. He even had a 9mm Beretta copied to look like an American weapon.

  CK, who became an interpreter to help his single mother in Kabul, began chewing Copenhagen and picked up American catchphrases from hanging out with the ODAs and watching TV shows. It wasn’t unusual to hear him ask soldiers, “How you doin’?” just like Joey Tribbiani from the TV show Friends, or reciting lyrics from rapper Eminem’s songs. Unknown to CK, members of the team had talked about getting him a special immigration visa so he could settle in the United States. They knew CK, with his love of American culture—especially TV sitcoms and rap music—would fit right in.

  The team’s relationship with CK helped illustrate the special bond between U.S. fighting units and interpreters in Afghanistan and Iraq. Afghans and Iraqis risk their lives taking jobs as interpreters. Being an interpreter paid more than most positions in their impoverished nations—if they could even find work. But the dangers were extreme, and in many cases, they had to hide their identities or had to live apart from their families, because if Al Qaeda or the Taliban knew who they were, they would be marked for death. So would their families. Hundreds of interpreters, known as “terps,” had been killed in Afghanistan and Iraq.

  In a way, with all the high-tech equipment—smart bombs, unmanned drones, advanced weapons systems, satellite communications—U.S. troops in Afghanistan had become dependent in part on terps.

  Soldiers—especially Special Forces—had to go into villages and deal with the local leaders to restore services to shattered communities. They had to understand the intricacies of tribal culture and politics as well as identifying enemy from friendly groups. They had to spend time training the Afghan police force and commandos. All were major keys to success, and in most cases, translators were critical to carrying out the missions.

  Over time, many interpreters developed a great rapport with the U.S. soldiers, and many in the military believed that interpreters should be recognized with U.S. citizenship.

  The bond between ODA 3336 and all their interpreters was strong. But CK was clearly their favorite. With his playful smile and dark reflecting sunglasses—the kind worn by state highway troopers in the United States—CK was an adopted member of Special Forces.

  He was loyal and always wanted to hang out with the team when they were sitting around bullshitting in Jalalabad. The team had built a special movie room at the base, and he would spend hours sitting there, watching Rome, Prison Break, and other TV shows, and, of course, action movies. He wanted to be cool, so whatever the team had, he wanted to get one, too. And he acted like them. Not only did he start chewing tobacco, but he began smoking cigarettes because almost everyone on the team did.

  He claimed to be twenty-five, but the team knew he was probably much younger. To Morales, he looked like a teenager. He was constantly asking Morales to recommend cool movies to watch. The team had a box full of them and let him borrow a few at a time.

  In June 2007, CK was sent with a team of Afghan commandos to Jordan for training. It was there that he learned how to read maps and to shoot a sniper rifle. He was taught land navigation skills. CK wanted to learn as much about the military as possible. If he understood the concepts, it would help when he explained the
m to the Afghan commandos. Like most of the people in the country, CK didn’t have an education. But he was naturally bright and street-smart.

  Once when they were discussing a mission, CK began explaining the grid coordinates. Morales turned to him and said, “I didn’t know you knew how to read a map.” Then he stopped and thought about it. CK had to translate Morales’s instructions to the commandos. So all along, CK was learning with the commandos. He was being trained at the same time.

  While CK tried to spend most of his time with the team, he did hang out with fellow interpreters. A terp named Blade was his best friend, and he would often go over to his apartment to relax. They were the same age and had grown up with each other. CK told Morales that Blade was a “player,” that he had a bunch of girlfriends. Morales just laughed. They tried so hard to act American.

  A few times, CK told Morales that he was going to raise some money, give half to his mother, and take the rest to buy a ticket to the United States, where he would enlist in the Army with plans of joining Special Forces. Morales advised him how to reach his goals. He encouraged CK to become a language teacher for Special Forces. It was a typical big-brother moment between the men. They had spent so many nights together, just hanging out and bullshitting. But they didn’t just hang out in the barracks. They would go to dances sponsored by the Army’s Morale, Welfare and Recreation services, MWR, and listen to rhythm and blues, hip-hop, and salsa.

  One night when Morales didn’t feel like going, a few of his buddies took CK to a dance. CK didn’t like to dance, he just wanted to hang out with Special Forces and feel like he was part of the team. And he fit right in. He had been working for U.S. troops so long that he was “Americanized.”