paratroopers were wounded. A lucky shot in
a village or on the base had the potential to
kill others. We needed to put an end to these
attacks before anyone else was hurt.
Simply killing or capturing insurgents
was unlikely to turn the tide and stop the
bombings. They could replenish their ranks
easily as long as the people supported them.
Something needed to change. We needed to
explore other options.
Lt. Col. Sher Ahmad was from Herat, a city
in western Afghanistan. His unit had been in
the area only a few weeks longer than mine
and he was working with U.S. forces in the
region. His short black hair, hooknose, and
deep brown eyes revealed his Pashtun ethnicity. He had little formal military training,
but was highly skilled at engaging with local
leaders. So I asked him what he thought we
should do. He suggested taking a patrol of his
soldiers to the village. He wanted to talk to
the people.
Saw Valley was nearly inaccessible on the
opposite side of the Kunar River, tucked
against the Pakistan border. But Sher
Ahmad’s smaller vehicles could cross the
tiny, ramshackle bridge spanning the river.
He planned to send word of his intentions
ahead and his party would be large enough to
discourage any attack. Our forces covered his
movements from positions on the west bank.
Sher Ahmad toured the village and met
with the elders for several hours. Finally, he
came back to base and what he reported was
fascinating.
Rather than professing ideologically-based, anti-American sentiments, the
elders said the attacks were the results of offended pride. A few years earlier, the villagers had been subjected to, and outraged by,
nighttime searches of their homes by U.S.
and Afghan forces. Soldiers, they said, had
kicked in their doors, rummaged through
their belongings, searched their women,
stole their jewelry, and placed bags over the
heads of elders before hauling them off for
FALL 2015
JOURNEY OF HOPE | 33