Security Contracting in Afghanistan
You gotta be kidding me! The GPS tracker is down too? Kushhal, we got a problem. We are in the middle of Jalalabad Highway, halfway between death and hell. This place is merceyless and unforgiving. Cell phone has no signal, Sat phone is taking the day off, radio signal wont punch out of this valley, and now my GPS tracker with panic button batteries have died. No one knows where I am and no one will come if this goes ugly. Of course I have extra batteries, it’s a four to five hour drive from Kabul to Jalalabad and I brought six packs of two. Im scrambling trying to speed reload batteries into the gps and they are all dead. Brand new, purchased the day prior in Kabul. I should have known. My only hope is that pieces will be put in motion if I don’t check in. But that is not for another six hours. A lifetime in Indian country.
I tell Kushhal, my Terp and driver to find the nearest place to buy batteries. He is now very concerned, and tells me it is too dangerous to stop. “Taliban controls this whole area Mr. Kelly” he replies. “If they recognize you, they will start shooting immediately”. Decision time, do I stop to get tracking gear back online, or keep pushing on and hope we have no more face to face encounters. We have had three already in the first two hours. Fighting with drivers stuck in a one lane tunnel.
I’m dressed in complete indigenous clothing, and mix daily with locals on the streets, so I’m quite confident in my disguise. My armament consists of a Krinkov, five mags, a Makarov with three mags, and a SERE kit in a backpack. Not enough to put up a fight, just the bear minimum to escape and evade until Troy comes. Troy is a close friend of mine from Fort Bragg. The absolute definition of a Green Beret. He has spent his entire 20+ years Army career in SOF. He has enough metals to sink a small boat, and the most training and skill sets of any operator that I have ever met. He is a treasured friend and mentor to me. But he cant come get me if he doesn’t know where I am. We have to stop for batteries.
This week has been steady with attacks all over these neighboring provinces. Yesterday in Kabul I watched five UN workers get gunned down in their SUV marked “humanitarian, NO WEAPONS inside”. The day before was a shooting in front of my hotel on the street, two more killed. I am on my way to a SOF camp in Jalalabad to meet up with my bud Troy. I needed intel and equipment as I am scouting routes and movements for a civilian audit team. I usually go as a singleton or with one other American. This time its just me. Lower profile. Driving in a local Toyota Corola with local plates and driver. As I leave Kabul, I call Troy to confirm my departure and expected arrival time. He tells me his camp was hit by a VBIED, and they are still engaged. “Its pretty sporty here right now, but come on in if you want.” He also warns me of attacks on the highway this week, and the many kidnappings happening on the road. “Whatever happens don’t stop, shoot your way through” were his final words of advise. I could hear the firefight raging in the background as I spoke with him. He was referring to the illegal road blocks set up to kidnap passerby’s’.
We roll into a small town along the highway. “Here Kushhal, stop here. There has to be batteries in one of these shops.” He did not want to stop the car. I told him we must. He asked me how many to buy, I gave him $20usd worth of Afghani and said all of them. I waited in the car.
We rolled out without incident, and proceeded down the dangerous stretch of road to Jalalabad. Just outside the city limits, the cell signal came back, and I called Troy. He asked what I was driving, and said to come on in. I told him I was more than a little nervous about driving up to the back gate of the compound, as everyone was extremely on edge as they had just had the suicide attack by a vehicle running into the wall with explosives, and I was dressed in man jammies and in a local car. He said, “no worries, I will meet you at the gate myself and let you in, they wont fire until I do”. I instructed Kushhal to drive our predetermined movements to establish bonefitis for easy distinction of our vehicle vs. another suicide bombers. Our driving pattern worked, we were identified and as we drove through the front gate, Troy looked in and stared at me. It took him a minute to recognize me in my disguise. He broke a smile and nodded his head for us to proceed to the next gate.
I got inside, Kushhal waited outside the camp. I removed my man jammies and got a brief AAR and sitrep from Troy and his team.
We went to the armory with Joe to resupply our medical kit, top off magazines and try out a few indig weapons and reconfirm zero on my Krinkov.
We then had dinner, and then attended a meeting of various ABC units to discuss and debrief the days events and how they effect current operations in play.
We returned to our compound, I had a shower and sat in Troy’s hooch to catch up on personal events since we had seen each other last at Fort Bragg.
We felt a shake, and then heard a boom. “that’s a rocket” I told Troy. I could not mistake that sound for anything else after six months of relentless almost nightly attacks on our position in Iraq. The siren sounded about thirty seconds later and a pre recorded voice came over the p.a. system. Confirmed, it’s a rocket attack. I was exhausted from nearly 30 hours without sleep and the treacherous trip to get here. I just wanted to lay back and get some rest. We ran outside the hooch, looked around and everyone was gearing up for another frontal assault on the compound. Joe ran up to me, handed me my tac vest and said “get ready Kelly”. I knew I wasn’t going to sit this one out. Comms are up and everyone is being accounted for. We are at 100% manning on camp as per SOP. With the wall of the compound 50 meters off the highway, we were highly vulnerable to explosives being thrown over the wall and prepared to repel insurgents climbing over the wall. As the team gathered near a solid wall, Troy directs his Afghani guards as to their stations for the attack. Then appears Chuck, a chisel chested Green Beret in pt shorts, tank top, flip flops, and a 10” suppressed M4, his favorite. Half of us had Kalashnikovs and half M4’s. Nods out, we watched the walls for a breach, as we ducked more incoming rockets.
The rockets seized for maybe 15 minutes when we heard an even bigger explosion just south of our position. It was another suicide bomber detonating at the front gate of the ANA (Afghan National Army) compound just down the street killing eight and taking out the front entrance.
More rockets pour onto the camp and we brace ourselves for every explosion, never knowing where each will impact, on constant watch for Taliban coming over the walls and breaching our camp. We now see the Predators launch. They are blacked out, going in search of the attackers. We are all hoping for the chance to put these illusive fighters in our sights. Lets get it on and put the boots to ‘em! This one-sided engagment sucks. Now we are thinking that at least the Predator will put it on them, even if we don’t get a shot. I take time to make two fast phone calls. One to do my check in as I’m not convinced my GPS is really sending GTG signals yet, and I’m already late doing so, and the other to my father to tell him I am good to go, as the SOF Seargant Major (Ret) will be waiting by the phone for sure. He was less than impressed with the idea of driving here in the first place, especially alone. If not for Troy, I would not have attempted this trip at all. He could hear the rounds impact in the background as we spoke, so I reassured him that I was not alone, and in fact was in the best company I could be with. This camp is a small compound of pipe hitting SOF guys. Troys hand picked team. Some of the best in the world at dealing death. I couldn’t be safer than being here with them.
The PA system keeps yelling out “threat over”, and then a few minutes later more rockets. The team makes a decision to call it over around 0100. The attacks were indeed finished for the night. I was exhausted from this long days event and racked out in a concrete shelter.
I awoke at 0430, hungry, fully awake and refreshed. I walked the perimiter and talked to the gaurds till breakfast was ready. I ate a quick bite of rice and chicken prepared by the indigenous cook. I started to gather my gear and do my checks in preparation for my drive back to Kabul. I wanted to leave early, as there are prime hours of travel on this highway for sure. Between certain hours, it is Taliban attack rush hour. I talk with Troy as I pack and he plusses up my gear. He tells me I should stay another day as today will be very dangerous to travel. But I had to leave. I was supposed to return yesterday actually, but that didn’t happen as the attacks halted all movements in or out. Kushhal was not in camp, as he was out getting the car repaired. Not a good sign. Our departure in now delayed to an uncomfortable time frame. But at least our vehicle will be reliable for the trip. Kushhal returns with the car and news that the repairs cannot be made. “Can anything else go wrong or break down in a 24 hour time period?” I thought to myself. I call my boss in Kabul to tell him the news. He advises me that we have meetings in Kabul this evening and cannot delay them. I have to go now. At peek attack hour or Ill never make my window on the other side. Troy and I took a few pics with each other, said goodbye and I left the gate with my Terp in our Corola.
We get to the tunnel at the Jalalabad city limits, and boom. Just on the other side of the tunnel, just a few vehicles in front of us, a truck takes an RPG. A firefight ensues as we turn the vehicle around and head back to Troys camp. I call him to tell him I’ll be having lunch with him after all. We return and hang out until the fighting on the road ends and the road becomes passable. We make it back to Kabul just in time to pick up the principle and get him to his meetings.
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