Authors: Howard Faber
“How many men are there to fight?”
“We are twenty-six.”
“You now have twenty-seven. Do you have weapons?”
“We have eight automatic rifles we took from the Russians when we dropped them into
the irrigation canal. We also have two machine guns that were on the UAVs.”
Sayeed looked at his son-in-law with new respect. Ali never mentioned this. “Is there
any way to get more
weapons?”
Ali and his friends had been talking about this. “The government won't give us any.
We think the best way is to take them from the Taliban. We know from the truck drivers
where they stop the trucks, and we have a plan about ambushing them and taking weapons.
We have to do it quietly, so the government doesn't hear about it.”
“How many Taliban are stopping the trucks?”
“There have been usually eight or ten.” Ali was talking softly now.
“One raid wouldn't be enough to get rifles for all of the men.”
“We plan to make two raids. We plan to capture the first group of Taliban so they
can't go back to report about what happened, but we want the second group to go back
to report so the Taliban know it won't be so easy to retake Bamiyan.”
Sayeed was beginning to respect his son-in-law even more.
They decided to have eight men go on the first raid. The main reason was there were
just eight weapons. The plan was to go to one of the places on the road where the
Taliban were stopping trucks, wait for a truck to pass and be stopped, then let the
truck go, and surround the Taliban when they were celebrating. The hard part would
be staying hidden from the Taliban and still be able to surround them. Ali thought
the Taliban would not expect any attacks, so they would be surprised and not ready
to fight back.
They left at dusk, each leaving from a separate place so as not to attract attention.
They met outside of town and followed paths used by the nomads when they visited
in the summer. Ali had not told Nafisa or the children. Only Nafisa's father knew,
and even he did not know details of
the plan. They walked silently, moving above
the road, each thinking his own thoughts. Ali grew more determined as he walked.
He would not leave again. He would defend his home and family.
As they approached the place they thought the Taliban would wait for trucks, they
split into two groups, one for each side of the road. Soon they heard Pushtu. The
Taliban were very sure of themselves, expecting no resistance. Ali and the men from
Sharidure waited to figure out how many Taliban there were and where they were. From
the voices, there seemed to be seven. By now it was dark. Soon, they heard the sound
of a truck laboring with its load up the pass. They moved closer. The engine sounded
louder, and the headlights spread their circles of light on the road. They moved
closer and they could see the Taliban crouching by the road.
As the truck appeared around a turn, four of the Taliban moved onto the road ahead
of the truck, brandishing their weapons. The truck came to a stop and the driver
appeared, hands raised, pleading for his life. The Taliban laughed, then motioned
the two passengers to step down. Three more Taliban appeared at the back of the truck,
looking for the
driver's assistant who rode there.
The Taliban weren't interested in killing the people. They wanted money and supplies.
One of the things on the truck was a shipment of kharbooza, the wonderful melons
grown in the north. They were one of the things the Taliban took. The truck soon
left with its relieved passengers. The Taliban gathered on the road, laughing about
how easy it had been. They soon cut open one of the melons, then sat down to eat.
When Ali saw them put down their rifles, he ran out from where he was hiding, shouting
in Pushtu for the Taliban to stay sitting and not to pick up their rifles. The other
Sharidure men swiftly joined him, surrounding the Taliban. Two of the Taliban reached
for their rifles and four shots rang out. Both Taliban fell to the ground screaming,
clutching their legs where they had been hit. Ali told his men to aim low so the
Taliban couldn't duck under their fire, and because they wanted to keep the Taliban
alive. The other Taliban stayed seated, eyeing their attackers. The Taliban weapons
were quickly moved out of their reach. The bandoliers of bullets worn by the Taliban
were removed and were soon on the shoulders of the men from Sharidure. Two Taliban
were
ordered to carry the two wounded men.
The rest of the night was spent marching the prisoners to an abandoned sheep and
goat corral where families used to live in the summer. At the base of the stone corral,
there were small holes dug horizontally into the ground. The Sharidure men put one
Taliban into each hole and rolled a large stone into the small opening. They put
some water and a little food into each hole. As each hole was secured, Ali told each
of the Taliban they would be kept here for several days. They would be allowed to
live to return to their homes. He also told them he and his friends wanted to live
peacefully in their homes, but that they would be fighting anyone who tried to attack
them. They left two men to guard the corral.
Stone Corral ⢠By Howard Faber
The others got back to Sharidure before sunrise. No one missed them. Ali explained
to Nafisa that he had been on a
night training mission to help defend the village.
That night the twenty-five men from Sharidure met to discuss what to do next. The
seven Taliban weapons and extra ammunition were given out into eager hands.
***
There was a debate going on about what to do with the Taliban prisoners. Some wanted
to kill them. Some wanted to let them go. Some wanted to turn them over to Afghan
authorities. In the end, it was decided that it was wise to return them to the road
where they were captured, so they could find their way home. There was also discussion
about telling them where their captors were from. So far, only Ali had spoken to
them, and only in Pushtu. The location of the deserted corral also gave no clue as
to where they were or what town was the home of their captors. It was decided to
keep up this veil of secrecy. It would be good to keep the Taliban from reprisal
raids.
Ali went with six others to relieve the current rotation of guards. There had been
eight hour shifts for the guards. He brought with him clean cloth to replace the
temporary bandages they had used to stop the bleeding from the legs of
the wounded
Taliban.
On the third night after the raid, the Taliban prisoners were removed from their
silent little prisons. They blinked and rubbed their eyes and mumbled to each other
about their ordeal. Ali led them back to where the truck was stopped. He told them
they could find their way home from there, but not to return. “This is our home.
Go back to yours, and leave us alone. You can see we are ready for you if you come
back. Next time, we will aim higher. Oh, and thank you for your rifles.”
Ali and the other men returned to Sharidure and made plans for a second raid. They
wanted to send a signal to the Taliban who were stopping trucks approaching their
town from the west. They also needed more weapons and bullets. The raid was planned
for the next night. The strategy was the same as the first raid. This time they took
ten men since they had more weapons.
They walked in silence, again following animal paths above the main road, stopping
at the location they heard was where Taliban ambushes took place. They were more
confident than the first time, but this time they had a longer
wait.
Finally, in the morning, a truck came growling up from the west. They saw it stop,
with Taliban fighters surrounding it. There were nine in this group. As before, they
let down their guard when the truck rumbled off. Then an argument started about dividing
up the money they had taken. The argument turned into a fight. They were so focused
on the dispute that they didn't notice Ali and the Sharidure men coming from both
sides of the road. Only when it was too late and they were surrounded did they notice
the new arrivals. Ali told them to sit with their hands above their heads. He thanked
them for their rifles. Three of the Sharidure men collected the Taliban bullet bandoliers.
Another relieved them of the money taken from the truck. “We have a convenient hotel
for you for the next couple of days.” They were marched to the same corral used by
the first captive group.
When Ali and seven of the other men returned to Sharidure they were greeted by a
group of American soldiers who arrived that morning. They wanted to talk to the leaders
of the village.
“We would like to help you defend your village.” Ali and
his father-in-law were completely
surprised at the words of the American leader. They exchanged glances, both wondering
if they should tell this outsider about their now functioning fighting group. They
asked the American for a little time to talk about his offer.
“I don't trust this outsider.” These were Ali's father-in-law's first words. “What
does he know of our situation? Remember how the Russians said they were going to
help us.”
American Soldier ⢠UNO
Now it was Ali's turn. He wanted to be respectful of his father-in-law. “I do remember
the Russians and the Taliban, but we could use some help. These are the Americans,
not the Russians.”
There was silence.
“So you think we should talk more to them? Should we tell them about our group?”
Sayeed seemed to be warming a little to the idea of help.
“What does it hurt to talk? We should first ask more about how they could help and
try to find out if they are really Americans.”
They went back outside to talk more to the Americans. Ali started to realize that
his village was assuming he was the leader, and he warmed to the idea and the accompanying
responsibility. He invited the entire group into his carpentry shop to have tea.
Sayeed and the other people standing with them nodded their heads in agreement with
that invitation. It was polite and proper to invite outsiders to tea.
The Americans talked among themselves about having tea. They recognized it was polite
and proper. Ali wished he knew English because he couldn't understand what was being
said. With the Americans was an Afghan. Ali judged him to be Tajik, apparently a
translator. The American leader spoke some Farsi, with a definite accent. So far
the translator had not spoken to the people of Sharidure.
There were no chairs in Ali's shop, and everyone stood. The Americans seemed fine
with standing, but the Afghans were used to sitting. Ali thought of a compromise.
He quickly made a circular space in the shop and swept the floor. He
asked his son
Hassan, who was close by watching and listening, to bring the cushions from their
home. “How many leeoff do we have Hassan?”
“I think we have six, father.” Hassan ran home and soon returned, loaded down with
cushions and helped by two of his friends. Ali placed the long cushions in a circle,
knelt down and gestured for the Americans to join him and the other Afghans. The
tea arrived from the teashop. The shop windows were full of faces, everyone wanting
to see these outsiders and what was going on.
“Thank you very much,” the American leader said, as he realized the importance of
this first meeting. “We have come from Bamiyan. Before that we were at the American
base at Bagram. My leader asked us to go to your village to help you protect yourselves.
We stopped at Bamiyan to get permission from your governor to help. She thinks it's
a good idea. I have a letter from her to you.”
He handed a letter to Ali, who read the letter. It verified that these soldiers were
indeed Americans, and that their help was approved by her and the government of Afghanistan.
It recommended allowing the Americans
to help them defend their town. The letter
went on to say that the Americans might stay a month or more to train the village
men to protect themselves, but then they would move on to another village. Ali explained
this to Sayeed and the other village people. Ali and the other village leaders stood
to leave and talk further about the offer of help. He explained to the Americans
(through their translator) that he would be back after discussing it with the other
village leaders. He told the Americans they could stay in the shop until he returned
and to enjoy the tea and nawn that would be coming.