"Where do we find men like these?"

The title line was a question asked by our Squadron Commander during a visit to BAF several days ago. Been a difficult week in this part of Afghanistan. The Summers are historically difficult here - and perhaps this one the more so, given the shift in focus from Iraq to Afghanistan, and given that the elections should take place this year. Nevertheless the Squadron is faring pretty well. We have suffered a few injuries, most minor - a couple, however, more significant.

Two outstanding Non Commissioned Officers were taken out of the fight in one attack. Had the opportunity to visit those men in Bagram, and that is when the aforementioned question was posed. There is no standard answer. These guys are the most sundry group you will ever meet. One of our Infantry platoons is comprised of a degreed philosopher, a Master of Political Science - with much experience in national level campaigns, at least one future missionary (possibly more), a couple of the most accomplished fishermen / outdoorsmen I have ever met . . . some of the most colorful characters imaginable, from all over the US, and a few from outside of it. Dickens could not have dreamed up a more eclectic group.

I was talking with another fine NCO a couple nights ago - and wondering aloud about the long-term success of the mission here. What a challenge, connecting these rural folks to their still nascent government. Rural is really not the word. The countryside is dotted with the tents of Cuchi's (sp?) - nomads who travel with tents strapped to the backs of camels; wives, children, sheep, dogs all in tow. The villages are folded between ridgelines, always along a stream - used for bathing, drinking, ceremonial washing (ablution - which occurs 5 times per Muslim per day), cooking, cleaning, watering crops, etc. Villages, in most cases, are pretty obviously peopled by an extended family or two - and not many more. Tribal disputes abound. Folks are still fighting over land disputes raised hundreds of years ago. These spats are often resolved with knives and guns (sadly, some areas of tribal life have progressed - mostly in the line of weaponry). Really, though, I don't guess they are ever 'resolved' - just quieted, passed to the next generation to take up again at an opportune time.

As you can imagine, these dynamics make this mission an extremely difficult one. Add to that the opportunists, like Chechnyans and Uzbeks who have come for the sole sake of engaging in 'jihad.' Its a very confused world out here. The constant, which has been made so cliche in every war movie since "The Longest Day" (which my wife refers to as "The Longest Movie"), is love for one another. As SSG F and I talked the other night, it just hit home again - that these men lead, and fight, and carry on here - not primarily out of hope that Afghanistan will change dramatically over the next year, but out of love for their brothers. Ideology sometimes doesn't last long, especially during a firefight. Love is an enduring motive.

Hopefully things will change here, though we all expect we may be talking more in terms of decades than years. The fight is a worthy one, the Taliban are as evil as they come - and have long enough tyrannized these poor folks with their hateful theology and their blood lust. If we see change during the course of this deployment it will be incremental at best. Really, the most we can hope is to continue to lay the groundwork for an internal uprising and wholesale rejection of the Taliban - from this population. You look around though, and realize just how disconnected these poor subsisters are - not just from the national government of Afghanistan, but from villages only miles away - and you just know the challenges are huge. Still these paratroopers press forward. Daily attending to the mission - and the driving force is love.

That was the tenor of the conversation of a few nights ago with one of our great squad leaders. That conversation was broken up as one of his guys came running to let us know that another platoon had struck an IED - and the Quick Reaction Force was ready to roll. So, we threw on body armor, and helmets, gloves and eye-pro, and rolled out - not knowing the extent of damage, worried about injuries. That, by the way, was the most intense drive I have been on yet. SGT N, who has a future as a 'get-away-driver' someday, ripped through the Wadis' like there was no tomorrow. I spent half the ride praying for the platoon in contact, and half just praying we would live through the ride to help them!

We arrived to find the large and heavily armored vehicle on its side - a gaping whole beneath it. The Mine Resistant vehicle had lived up to its reputation - everyone inside was ok - minus a broken leg and a couple of concussions. Really very minor injuries considering the size of the IED that hit them. By the time we arrived the injured soldiers had already been flown to the nearest hospital - and it turned out to be a long, quiet, reflective night. We spent it securing the area, recovering the damaged vehicle, interviewing the families in Qalats living alongside that stretch of road (of course, in spite of the fact that most windows looked down on the spot where this IED was buried - no one had any idea who could have emplaced it.

That evening, I prayed with many, cried with a couple - the cumulative anxiety of living in this place just kind of leaks out after a friend gets hurt. Still, I am amazed that these guys are so able to weigh out their feelings, be deeply angry, sometimes truly scared - and control their response. The Taliban, I suspect, if the tables were turned, would have burned the nearby village to the ground. Of course we are not here to create more enemies, or further brutalize these people - but you understand the sentiment to react is there! Nineteen and Twenty-something young men in this mix, and all able to respond with restraint, with professionalism, and in doing so - make the evil of our enemy all the more pronounced.

I sure do love these guys, and there is nowhere I would rather be at the moment. Ok - maybe that could use re-phrasing. I would rather be home with my pretty wife and great kids. I would rather be hooking into a King Salmon right now, and an egg-engorged Rainbow Trout a couple of months from now. So would all of these men. But given that they are here - that we have been called to be here, compelled by forces we don't control; given that - most would choose to remain.

You know - when we walked onto the airplane bound for the the Hospital in Germany last week; with the two NCO's wounded pretty significantly - their greatest expressed regret was not the extent of injury, but the fact that they would not be able to carry on with their brothers. Pretty incredible. I do not know the answer to the Commander's question - 'where do we find men like these?' - but I certainly thank the Lord Jesus for them.