Reports From Afghanistan—

Personal Notes Of A First Lieutenant

First Lieutenant Rob Anders, a 1998 graduate of Newtown High School and 2002 graduate of the US Military Academy at West Point, is serving with the US Army in Afghanistan. He is an infantry platoon leader with the Second Battalion, 27th Infantry Regiment, part of the Second Brigade Combat Team of the 25th Infantry Division.

The son of W. Scott and M. Barrett Anders of Newtown, he has been sending reports home about his experiences in Afghanistan and plans to combine them into a book. Excerpts from his letters and reports follow.

By First Lieutenant            Rob Anders

Thanks a million times over to those who sent care packages and letters and the like. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your support. Good news for you is that you can stop sending me stuff. Actually, please stop sending me stuff! We’ve already set the gears in motion for redeployment (finally!), so please do not send anything to me after February 1. From then on please limit your correspondence to prayers and emails only. Cheers.

Of course, the good news is we’re leaving Afghanistan. The bad news is that I’m on the last rotation out of here. That basically means my last patrol, if all goes right, will literally be the day before I get on the birds . . . and then shut off my brain. ...Definitely looking forward to that.

Of course, there’s still much work to be done in between now and then, and this is still a very dangerous place. I keep kicking myself and my soldiers to quit thinking about the surf (and girls) and keep their game faces on.

Staging Grace

Khayr Kot has been in tumult since we ripped the enemy leader out of power. There has been civil strife among the people, and a rift seems to have widened between the villagers and the enemy network there. Another one of our strongest allies is the mayor of Khayr Kot. He has unusual strength of character and has a clear grasp and understanding of the dynamics of his district. The enemy cell is vengeful, and Mayor Tuti is, unfortunately, standing alone in the eye of the hurricane we created around him.

Yesterday the police reported the discovery of a small munitions cache near a small village in the district. My platoon and I made the long drive down there to investigate. I stopped first in the Khayr Kot bazaar as a courtesy to the mayor. We met briefly before the police escorted us to the site.

The cache itself was a curious one. It was only a couple of old mortars and mines, and they were buried out in an open field. What was especially strange was that it was booby-trapped with homemade pressure detonators that were strung up to a rocket and mortar round. It was well off any beaten path, and the condition of both the equipment and the rounds indicated that it was from a different era.

The battalion was intent on dispatching an EOD (Explosive Ordnance Demolition)  to team handle the cache. I felt we could’ve disposed of it effectively with our engineers. But battalion ordered me to sit tight, secure a helicopter-landing zone, and wait for EOD to arrive. It took several hours for the birds to fly in with the EOD team. Once on the ground, though, they took little time to rig and then blow it with a pretty good explosion.

While we were waiting for EOD to arrive I was able to speak at length with Mayor Tuti. Our conversation began in the midst of a crowd of locals who came out to watch us at work. We exchanged some small talk before the mayor requested to speak with me in private. He and I walked out into a field, about 100 meters from anyone. I sat down in the dirt. He squatted. Even at that distance he maintained a whisper, and it was plainly evident that he was concerned about Khayr Kot, and unsure about his future.

At the end of our conversation as we stood up to stretch our legs, Mayor Tuti asked a favor of me. He pointed with his eyes at the nearest compound to where we were, about 300 meters away. He said that the owner of that place was related to the network-leader who we captured, and was among the people sitting outside the gate. Mayor Tuti asked me to stage a conversation with him when we walked by them. I agreed.

As we neared the compound and the people whose ears we knew were burning, I said a few lines and answered a few questions that alluded to the possibility of the network leader being released back to Khayr Kot. I never said anything definitive. And I certainly, like always, never made any promises. The intent of the conversation, however, was to squeeze a drop of hope into the enemy’s stream of information in order to buffer their vengeance and hopefully buy the mayor more time . . . to live.

            

MNM

The lantern flickered in the middle of the table. It was two hours before sunrise on another damp and frigid morning. Across from me in his office sat Colonel Nadime, chief of the National Directorate of Security for the Province (comparative to our FBI). Next to him was his informant, who was bundled up so that only his eyes were showing. Wakeel sat next to me on a low couch and Sergeant Fox from West Virginia, who would be point man for the mission, sat next to him.

We sketched out a plan of attack on a piece of scrap paper and wide shadows climbed the mud walls of the claustrophobic room as we all leaned in toward the table. I asked a series of detailed questions from the informant so that I could gain a clear idea of what we were getting in to, and to best prepare us for contingencies. This was an important mission. We were after Mullah Nadir Mohammad [MNM].

In the last several months there have been many significant threats to the governor’s life. Whether they’ve been IEDs or rocket attacks, the swirling enemy cells in the area have attempted numerous assassinations. As a powerful influence in facilitating and planning, Mullah Nadir Mohammad was the man behind many, if not all, of such attacks.

We pulled away into the night. The informant was in our lead Up Armor with Sergeant Fox. I took Colonel Nadime in my vehicle and an NDS squad trailed my trucks. We were headed down to Yosufkhel and timed it so that the initiation of the “soft raid” would be just as morning nautical twilight broke, and about 15 minutes before the morning call to prayer.

During the 45-minute drive we kept a moderate pace and used white lights to give the impression of another routine patrol. Once in Yosufkhel we turned off the main route and headed toward the hills. That’s when speed became critical. It wasn’t far to MNM’s compound, and it was essential for us to isolate his home as quickly as possible.

We accelerated off the road and roared up and around the compound, which was only 500 meters to the northwest. My platoon formation split and was able to immediately cordon off the building. The NDS followed closely, and parked about 100 meters from the main entrance.

Once I confirmed my soldiers were in position then we could slow down, take our time, and take care of business. I called the NDS to move in and search the compound. Within minutes Colonel Nadime himself came out of the building walking steadily toward me at my truck. He was toting a tall man by the elbow, and the Colonel kept repeating, “Nadir Mohammad, Nadir Mohammad!”

Though inherently strange to give orders to a Colonel, I directed the NDS Chief to consolidate the detainees in a corner. We detained two more men from the house, both brothers of the big boss. All three of them were reasonably cooperative, more stunned and bewildered than anything else. Just for the sake of confirmation I brought the informant over to the corner and shined a white flashlight in the face of our prize prisoner. The informant immediately recognized the long tangled beard and sunken face of Nadir Mohammad. The informant was giddy with excitement beneath his layers and layers of anonymity.

It wasn’t long before we were able to close the scene and depart. The NDS took charge of the prisoners and piled them into the back of one of their Hilux Pick-Up trucks. By then the cold drizzle turned into an icy rain. We threw a tarp over the prisoners to keep them out of view from the villagers and also to keep them warm. On the way out we passed by the locals on their way to pray at the mosque, oblivious to our operation, or the effects it surely will have on their future.

On the drive back to base through the misty rain and muddy streets, I felt a true sense of satisfaction. In this environment it is exceedingly difficult to capture or kill the enemy because they are careful and crafty cowards. There is a feeling of accomplishment in seeing schools being built, and watching the police use new radios and vehicles. Yet, there has been little satisfaction to be had in destroying the enemy, because it’s very difficult to see the negative effects of our positive impact.

The Battalion Commander has said on several occasions that, “It is possible to win this war without killing another person.” I believe it to be true. There is satisfaction in knowing that our hard work has cut heads off the hydra in other districts. But it was especially rewarding to personally facilitate the local NDS squad in capturing a valuable target, and decapitating another important enemy cell. Even though we didn’t kill Mullah Nadir Mohammad, we treated him rather well actually, there’s tremendous vindication in capturing him. He’s certainly more valuable to us alive, and the information we pry out of him helps us concentrate on killing the cell rather than the people in it. That is the real fight, and that is the tricky bit about this war on terrorism.