On "Rescuing" Afghans
The Best Career Decision I Ever Made
Howdy,
I will pause our discussion of the Gaza War and return to “rescuing” Afghans.
I use the quotation marks because I personally don’t think I rescued them. Instead, they rescued themselves by reaching out to me. On a few occasions, I did some good stuff, but it was the individual Afghans who got themselves to safety.
I was never in danger. My life wasn’t on the line. I always supported them from an air-conditioned office with some ding-dongs and a cool drink. They were the ones who had to make calculated choices about who to trust.
I write all this because I am helping someone make it to the United States this week. I won’t go into details, but if everything works out, it might be my final case. I want to reflect on the last 2 1/2 years of my life and talk about how — gestures wildly—all this happened.
When I returned from Afghanistan in June 2021, I had no illusion that Afghanistan was in a good spot. I hoped they would hold until the winter fighting season, giving them time to create a robust plan to defend key population centers.
From June to August 2021, I was busy moving across the country, reuniting with my wife, and getting to know my little girl, whom I had only met during my R&R from Afghanistan. We also bought a house, and I took command of a squadron.
For those who aren’t in the military or veterans, command is the pinnacle of an officer’s career. It is the proving ground. You work hard enough to get through the vetting process, and then you’re handed some authority/responsibilities to determine if you can succeed.
I was excited. I dreamed of going to war college and potentially becoming an elite colonel. As I’ve written before, I would never have been a General Officer, but I could’ve been the Senior Defense Official at a busy Embassy.
Regardless, I had dreams.
Those dreams came to an end on 15 August. I knew immediately our retreat would upend my life.
As Kabul fell, I flew to DC to lead an agency’s evacuation operation. It was a mess—a complete and total shit show. I barely remember any of it because it was so traumatic.
I don’t want to dwell on the initial push because many people did many good things during that time. It was both the worst (no accountability) and the best (everyone banding together) of the US military.
When I returned from my 2-week gig, I kept working on cases. I knew thousands of Afghans from 3 1/2 years in the ‘Stan. I fought next to them, watched many of them bleed out, and mourned too many of their deaths. They are my brothers. They are the bravest people I’ve ever met — and it's not even close.
Around October 2021, I realized I had a choice to make. I could wrap up my support and pivot back to command or do split ops. I thought about it for quite a while. I knew that if I did split ops, my work performance would suffer. Sure, I could answer the mail and do my best, but I couldn’t distinguish myself from the other commanders. And once you get to command, you’re competing against your brothers and sisters for the next step in the meritocratic ladder.
I decided to keep going. I wish I could say it was purely for noble reasons, but that shit ain’t true.
The truth was that I hoped to redeem myself. I did a lot of shitty things in Afghanistan that I’m not very proud of. Someday, I will write about those things. It’s not the time or place for that conversation. However, I hoped to make amends for the red in the ledger by saving lives.
So here we are, April 2024, and I’m still doing ops, though not nearly as much as I did initially. Nevertheless, as I sit here waiting for a potential big win—there is still a lot of work to do—I can’t help but think I made the right decision.
See, the best decision I ever made in my career was to “throw it all away” and focus on “rescuing” Afghans. If I hadn’t gone down this road, I would’ve made O-6, maybe gone to school, and had fun at an Embassy.
But I would’ve been disgusted with myself because I had an obligation to get my brothers and sisters in arms out of harm’s way. Why? Because we don’t leave people behind.
Or at least I don’t.
Some things are more important than rank. Some things are more important than fancy titles. In fact, most things are.
I’ve helped evacuate 300+ Afghans. That’s the best thing I ever did in my career and the best thing to come out of that shitty war.
Until Next Time
“[We] did a lot of shitty things in Afghanistan that I’m not very proud of. Someday, I will write about those things. It’s not the time or place for that conversation. However, I hoped to make amends for the red in the ledger by saving lives.”
As I read this in the context of some our our recent collab articles and the response from those who have commented (especially those hypercritical of the IDF doing what I know the US did also) it hit me, “They have no idea the things done in their name.” How difficult it is to work through the tragedy that is inherent to war if you’ve never seen war until now. The IDF’s actions in Gaza in the past 6 months have been far more publicized than any period of time in 20 years in Afghanistan.
And, it reminds me of something that comes into my head from time to time, “Only the bodies return from war.” Some return in a flag covered box. Others return alive, but the young man they were before war is not who they are after. War kills all that it touches. Those young men will never come back. And the stories of the war that killed them might just need to be told so that those who didn’t go to war can know what made them the men they became. And, the ghosts that often visit them.
I’m not talking about Fobbits, whose service is certainly honorable. I’m talking about those who actually serve in combat. Our nation only sent a few folks (relatively speaking) into combat zones, but only a few of the few ever saw the war. Those are the stories Americans might just need to hear. Those are the stories that just might begin to bridge the veteran-civilian divide. When the time is right.
I have been proud of all of your many accomplishments but this is truly your greatest and most noble. I recently went back and watched Schindler's List -- I like to remind myself periodically what is at stake in Israel now and why it is important. And it hit me that saving Afghans is much the same as the scene at the end of the movie when all of those whom Schindler had saved and their descendants gathered at the end. Well someday all of those you (and others) saved and their descendants will gather. More than likely I won't be around any longer but I will still see it all from above. Thank goodness for men and women like you and all of those who gathered to not leave our Afghans behind. Gives me some hope in this messed up world.