Battlefield Tourist

As I write, we're flying along at 30,000 feet and on the way to Turkey. I still can't believe I have been invited to be apart of this trip. It is truly a great feeling.
I didn't actually make it to bed until 1:00 am because I was busy packing. Like usual, my mind was more worried about not being a burden to my hosts, so I had to make decisions on what would stay in Kabul and what would go with me. Most of the stuff that stayed was clothing. All of it replacable. Just about everything else came with me packed into a suitcase and my trusty seabag from my Marine Corps days.
I woke up at 5:30 and kept hitting my internal snooze until 6:15 when I made my way downstairs to ensure that Abdullah was up and ready to take me to the presidential palace. Of course he wasn't, but Abdullah is pretty quick and before long, he was ready to go.
I took some quick video of my home for the past three months to show Heidi then loaded up in the car and left for possibly the final time.
At the palace we were exactly on time and waited less than 2-3 minutes for my contact to show up. We followed them into the compound where they dissected my luggage before letting us move on. It was about here that I felt a little off key. I felt like I had too much luggage and I kept feeling that way through the morning. I decided just to forget about it considering the worst that could happen is they would tell me I couldn't go. In the event that happened, I had a backup ticket to Turkey scheduled to leave on Tuesday.
In the compound I diid some waiting with the president's press people, had some tea and then we were off to the airport. It was at this point that I fully began to realize the potential of what I was doing. In fact, I was the only journalist, period, to get the chance to be on this flight. The only journalist. I was told the BBC had their ambassador call President Karzai to request an interview late last night. A request that was quickly shut down. That makes my interview last Friday the only one with Karzai leading into the summit. I'm hoping that turns into sales considering the importance of the meeting.
On the way to the airport is was very clear the president was coming. Along the road every 10 meters or so, were ANA soldiers keeping an eye out for anything out of the norm. At the airport, the security was even heavier. U.S. Special Forces troops were everywhere. Some were in Humvees manning the turret machine gun or grenade launcher. Every car that even hinted at coming toward the airport was aimed at by the highly cautious soldiers. On every roof and the control tower, snipers with tripod mounted rifles scanned the area non stop.
Once again we were searched thoroughly before finally being allowed onto the tarmac. Just inside the gate was a DC-10, the biggest plane in Arianna's fleet, waiting for the president.
The mobile stairs that led up to the planes side door was covered with a long, beautiful Afghan rug. It's at the top of the stairs that I decided to perch myself. I had thought about taking shots from the ground, but the special ops team leader told me to get on the plane for fear (for whatever reason) that I would be shot. Of course in these situations, your only recourse is to comply, which I did... for a few minutes.
Sitting in my seat, I started worrying that if I didn't get a shot here, I may end up with nothing but a plane ride with President Karzai. So after a few minutes I moved again to the top of the stairs, keeping out of sight the best I could until I knew Karzai was coming.
Soon there was the sound of several helicopters coming. At the same time, a typical looking presidential caravan was coming in through the front gate of the airport. So where was Karzai?
Within minutes, the choppers had landed and the convoy stopped. Then, from one of the helicopters, Karzai popped out and walked hurriedly across the tarmac toward the procession of people waiting to see him off.
By this time, I had stepped back onto the stairs and started getting whatever pictures I could. Some a bit shaky, but nothing you can do. Every time someone moved on the stairs, so did I and the camera. At least I was getting exclusive pictures of some sort. At this time, I was getting the shots as gravy, expecting another interview while on the plane. If that came together, I would be styling.
Soon Karzai was on the plane, followed on by the U.S. ambassador Khalidzad and the Afghan Foreign Minister. I took as much video as I could before my escort cut me off. A few minutes later, my escort informed me that no interview would be allowed, making the fact that I got the video earlier that much more important.
Originally, I was told, we were going to Iran first, but then on the plane, they said the flight was just under five hours meaning the plans to stop in Iran were probably not going to happen.
I have to say, flying with the president has its perks: The flight was empty, the plane took off minutes after the president arrived and the food was actually very good.
So with no interview available, I'm able to relax, write my blog and worry about how I'm going to get my luggage. Not being an official part of the delegation, I have no credentials beyond the airplane, making me wonder how it is I'm going to get my luggage, first of all, then how I'm going to get into a position to catch a cab to Ihlas once I do happen to get my belongings. The day before at the Turkish embassy I was warned of this problem, now I just hope I'll be able to pull it off with relatively little hassle. Something tells me that isn't going to happen.

Well, I never finished Friday's entry. No biggie anyway. I ended up rushing home from my Karzai interview and screeching across Kabul to hook up with the Canadians. Not much of a patrol: Seven guys, two jeeps, and me. Just some presence patrolling in places that smelled very bad. Actually, this whole town smells like an old squat I used to live in back in San Francisco somewhere in the early 90's. I swear to god these people have no concept of sanatation!!
The one real cool thing about getting out to Camp Julian was after the patrol. Camp Julian sits in between the former king's palace and the queen's palace. The king's palce is blown all to hell. Holes, rubble, major war damage. Looks like something out of a book. In fact, this whole side of Kabul looks like Berlin 1945. I can't even begin to imagine the ferocity of the fighting that took place here.
The past two days I've been coasting along, just waiting to go home. This type of work has really made me immune to "big news". I guess the world's eyes are on Istanbul. Quite the historic event. Tomorrow I'll be arriving amidst the chaos with the guest of honor, President Karzai. Monday, June 28th 2004 will go down in my history as one of my most incredible days, even if all I do is get on the plane. I am the only TV journalist invited to fly in with Karzai. I feel very privledged and can hardly believe to this instant that me, Dave Tate, is the one that has been invited. This is going to be one wild ride. Talk to you in a few days.

Friday was lining up to be a rather busy day. Considering this was the day originally set for me to leave, it is ironic that it turned into one of the busiest since I've been here.
It started out rather simple. Nevermind the fact that I was about to conduct the biggest interview of my life.
Like usual, I was up rather early. Turns out Abdullah is going to be my cameraman/interpreter. To be honest, considering I'm about to interview the President of Afghanistan, Hamid Karzai, the thought of using Abdullah scares me. Don't get me wrong, I love Abdullah to death, but it's President Karzai. Just two days ago Abdullah's video for a story about cinemas returning to Afghanistan was blue.
I really got the heebeegeebee's when he started to prepare to take the mDV Panasonic DVX-100. Once again, don't get me wrong: I'm a strong supporter of the small and comparatively cheap cameras for many situations, President Karzai isn't one of them.
So we make it out the door on time (9:45) and head to the Presidential Palace. There's other media folk there too, which has me confused. We all get the major shakedown on both person and equipment and are led into the compound.
After we're done being fondled, we are led along what looks like a castle wall and through what seems like a huge castle gate (maybe it is a castle?). On each side of the gate are two antique cannons of the gigantic variety.. Through the gate and you're in the garden that leads to where I suppose we'll meet the president.
We're led into this large room that looks like a banquet room in some grand... uh... castle
(Seriously, it's not a castle, but it definitely has the feel). They sit us in there, give us some tea and nuts and we wait a bit, chatting with the other journos. Abdullah and I get some extra attention as they prepare us to do the interview. By this, I mean, I get questioned about everything you can think about from who I am to what I plan to ask. Unfortunately I have four questions from Istanbul and have zero input into their content. Good for me that a few minutes later I'm told, "You can ask anything you want..." Oh boy... that's a door that should not be opened.
Soon they led us up to an even grander room where we once again wait a second. Abdullah and I are told to start to set up, while the others get ready to do a photo op (which we had no idea about). Soon I figure it out that not only are we exclusive to get an interview, but EVERYONE there knows it. Feels kind of good to be swarmed with the envy of Reuters and APTN!! That's right, on the eve of the NATO Summit, it is me that gets the interview. I'm stoked.
So everyone gets their 2 minute picture op and than are rushed out of the room. An AFP reporter traveling with Karzai asks me if he can sit in on the interview (must be a big ticket). I told him I didn't care and it was up to the bodyguards. They must've said no because he was gone when I turned around.
Tick tock... Finally some four star general walks out (Joint Chief of Staff or something) and I know it's about to get going.... tick tock... Then President Karzai comes out. The former Mujahadeen leader and one of the bravest heads of state in recent times is about to enter the "Dave Zone". Not really. Actually I was kind of in awe.
He comes out speaking one of the Afghan languages (I think Farsi), but I switch it over to English as soon as I'm introduced. Karzai takes his seat and I work to put the lavaliere on him while Abu adjusts his shot. Of course I'm trying the small talk thing while I play with his jacket and the mic. I think it worked.
So the interview begins. I start with scripted questions concerning the summit and then move into a balance of mine and the script. In all I got in about eight questions (four more than scheduled) and overall, I was very pleased with how it turned out (go to www.iha.com.tr and look up story #17250). The best part was at the end when I pressed him on why the Muslim world is giving Afghanistan so little. He said, "Ok, interview's over!" It wasn't mean or anything. Probably because I said "last question" three times.
Afterward I did something I never do, and that's ask for a picture of us. He graciously complies and then moves off to his next whatever.
<FORWARD>> - After the interview this officer comes up to me and says, "You can fly with the president to Istanbul!"
Obviously I am blown away. Unfortunately I cannot relish the moment because I need to be on the other side of town in less than an hour to do a street patrol with the Canadiens. So I jet home, feed in the interview, call Istanbul with the good news, wolf down lunch, change and get on the road to Camp Julian. Once again, right on time - 12:45.

Posted by: Dave / 11:29 PM

As I tried to fall asleep the other night, I realized that an important part of the next day's story was down the street. I've been working on a story about an increasing problem of child trafficking from Afghanistan. Most of it is slave labor, but here is physical and sexual abuse patterns emerging as well as the sale of the children's organs.
Since I couldn't sleep, I decided to head up the street and look for Waid. He's the 10 year old shoeshine I met a few nights before. He speaks decent English and claims Russian. At 10 that's pretty good.
He also claims to go to school on a regular basis before shinning shoe until 11:00 at night. All for extra bread for his brothers.
It's around 9:30 and he hangs out just a few blocks down. Once down there I ask his buddies for him and they call him out of a nap on the side of the road. He's sleeping next to a pile of gravel on a cardboard box.
So fresh out of a sleep, I ask him if he'd be interested in doing an interview for my kidnapping story. No problem. So we sit on the side of the road and just talk. Really it's the best way to get an interview anyway. Pretty bright kid.
I also tell him I'm thinking about a documentary where he would take me around Kabul and we do interviews with kids. Who knows, maybe he'll get direction.
Later I pay him some money for his time and tell him I have another job lined up for him. He needs to meet me at 5 o'clock with 3 friends (he's the boss). There job is to clean the yard, which will be no minor task. He gets $10 for the job and its his responsibility to pay the guys and take my orders. he's a good kid and you can tell he's excited.
The next day I wake up and get ready to me with the UNICEF people to finish my story. We open the gate too the house and Waid and like six kids are standing there. I start to get the feeling I screwed up, but decided to get stern and set it straight. I told Waid to get to school and be back at five with three friends. Off to my story.

STORY: CONNECTION BETWEEN CHILD TRAFFICKING IN AFGHANISTAN AND SAUDI ARABIA
TEXT & VIDEO: DAVID TATE - IHA /KABUL
23.06.04

VIDEO VERSION

Evidence is mounting that there is a growing industry in Afghanistan that involves child kidnapping and trafficking. In particular a link between the Afghan industry and Saudi Arabia.
Last year UNICEF was made aware of 120 cases of children being trafficked. Already this year the number stands at around 260 in and around the provinces surrounding Kabul alone. The number nationwide is unknown.

SOT - " We have had reports of children who have been kidnapped from Badaxsan Province and then they were intercepted by police in Province. Like a group of children: 30, 20 children at different times. So that made us have a quick look at the situation there. "

Fawzia Koofi is the Project Officer for Commission of Sexual Exploitation of Children and is in charge of overseeing the programs UNICEF is pursuing in relation to combatting child trafficking. She says families are often promised work that never materializes when they get there. Others are literally made into slaves.

SOT - Fawzia Koofi/Project Officer for Commission of Sexual Exploitation of Children
" Basically what they do is they... children go to Pakistan or Iran and neighboring country's by the consent of their parents to work there. We may know that in the case of child trafficking, consent of the parents isn't an issue because sometimes parents traffic their children given the situation of Afghanistan where the economy is very weak. "

Children working is an important form of income for an Afghan family. Waid, a Kabul 10-year old, goes to school until 4:30 and then makes his way downtown to shoeshine until 11:00 at night. The money he makes buys bread for his little brothers.
He says he isn't afraid of being kidnapped because he picks his work space carefully.

SOT - Waid/Street Worker " I stay over here by the soldier, ya know? Soldier. I have my box over here." "

Evidence shows that not only are the children being exploited for child labor, but are also being used as sex slaves, primarily in Arab countries, as well as being killed so their organs can be harvested.
This past week, Afghan officials arrested 4 men, one a medical doctor, in Kabul. The men are allegedly part of a trafficking ring that includes three other men arrested in early June in neighboring Logar Province.
UNICEF says that the problem is worst in the northeast of Afghanistan, particularly in Badaxsan Province where the population is particularly impoverished. Dozens of children from this province have been deported from Saudi Arabia, which have UNICEF looking into the reasons for the connection.

SOT - "We are planning to have a study there to find out the main causes for that. A majority of them, almost 95% of them deported from Saudi Arabia are from Badaxsan Province, particularly from three districts. So that is a question for everyone. Why from three districts? Why from one province? If we say the main cause is for families to send their children is poverty... poverty is everywhere in Afghanistan. It's like just in Parwan or Badaxsan it's everywhere. So we're planning to have some research to find out the exact cause of why people are sending their children and what is the scenario behind this story."

So programs like this one, Tuluy-Sharq, which is sponsored by the Ministry of Women's Affairs are in partnership with UNICEF. This workshop in western Kabul benefits more than 220 women. They work a 9:00 to 4:00 shift making handbags that are later sold at the market. The regular work allows these single mothers to put their children in school rather than to work on the streets.

Silwa lost her husband five years ago during the fighting in Kabul. She worries most about her 12-year old son. A worry that has gone down considerably since she began working here.

SOT - Silwa / War Widow - *******IN FARSI*******

The government is also working to derail the industry by creating a multi-Ministry task force as well as creating a birth-registration program.


Afterward I made my way back to the office. To my surprise, I didn't get lost and actually am getting quite used to the center city. It felt good getting around like that. Just gotta keep an eye out for assassins.
Back at the house I had to write the story you just read and then file it. Of course, just as I finish and am about to leave, the Turks decide to go. So I have to taxi it. Not only that, but the kids are supposed to be here soon.
Fortunately I find them and tell them to come back in 30 minutes so I can get some work done. No problem, off to file my story.
It really is unfortunate you cannot help everyone, you just can't. Thee walk to the internet is terrible. The begging is incredible. Everywhere. Not just that, but kids selling things, legless people sitting in the middle of the road, widowed women in Bhurkas as soiled as you can imagine. I call these women, "The Ghosts of Kabul" because that's what they look like. These dingy, hooded shapes waddling at you is just like a 1940's-era ghost. When I come back, they will make a great subject for a true film camera like my AE-1.
So I get back and as expected, the kids are on time. There's a couple of tag-alongs described by Waid to be as being "bad guys". At ten there is no real threat. The problem is, they now look over the wall, they wait outside the gate, etc... all those things you don't want to be responsible for. I told Waid to take care of or lose his job. We'll see what happens.
We need our grass cut, which they're doing using scythes. There's a stack of wood and 2-tons of litter. I want this yard looking good. They usually work until 11:00, so I'll feed them leftovers and break out the lights when it gets dark.
The boys worked until close to dark. Abdullah was out there doing some directing and things didn't get done right, so I called it quits for the night. When I did, I broke out a blanket and got the boys some food and water. Abdullah brought out some tea. I have to believe they will remember this for some time.
As we were getting ready to wrap it up, I was going to give the kids taxi money when some of them started complaining. The problem is that they spent a few hours working instead of shoeshining, now they need money for bread and taxis. They also want me to pay them because they don't think Waid will be fair. Unfortunately for them, I hired Waid, and with Waid, they will deal.
I give them some money and send them on their way. As they leave, I tell Waid he needs to pick his crew better and he needs to straighten out the pay situation before he comes to work.

Before long, two men dressed in western attire, but clearly Afghan, came up the hill from the direction of the valley and a bridge that ran across the fast moving river.
It turns out the men are with the United Nations mine clearing efforts and the gunshots were to warn of an impending mine explosion. The men hustled up the mountain when they saw the soldiers deploy to avert a possible tragedy. Although that was highly unlikely.
We continued moving up the river valley which was absolutely beautiful. The roads were very narrow and the towns we passed through built up the side of the mountain. I literally had to pull in the side mirror on a regular bases to keep it from knocking out a wall or something.
One time we were passing a group of people who just sat there and watched us as we got closer. As we were literally passing them they decided to move at the last minute. Not fast enough as the mirror smacked a teen in the ass as we went by.
That wasn't the only close call. I often times on this patrol found myself looking down at the front tire yelling out, "Two feet!! One foot!! You have inches!!". All I could think about was all the soldiers in Irag who have been killed by rollover hummers.

TOP TEN WAYS DAVE CAN GET KILLED IN AFGHANISTAN

1. Traffic Accident
2. Being hit by a car
3. Helicopter Crash
4. Mine or IED
5. Kidnap/Murder
6. Hostile Fire
7. Friendly Fire
8. Heat Related Condition
9. Malaria
10. The Food

*lack of beer was not considered because it's a recreational thang!

Eventually we made our way to an incredibly stunning area and started regrouping in the river bed. There was some talk that we were going to drop the men off here to bivouac, but then it was decided we would go back a few miles to a more defendable spot.
The village that enjoyed this scenic spot was nestled on the mountainside amongst heavy tree cover. Unfortunately, it was here that we also felt some of the most negative of vibes.
While waiting for all of the trucks to get into the riverbed to turn around, I broke out an MRE and started chowing. Like usual, I ended up giving away most of my lunch to the local kids. It's hard not to do as much as it's hard to do. The problem is that the kids have no concept of the word limited. I understand it. It's like bringing a bag of candy to class and only having enough for a few. Better than nothing here, in my opinion.
As we turned around the first deuce and a half started back up the steep, narrow incline, the rocks and soil under the front right tire gave way and the truck pitched sharply and almost rolled down the slope into the water.
For the next hour, the fate of the truck became the village spectacle. Occasionally the driver would try to gun it and get up the hill, only to continue eroding away the road and coming closer to rolling. At one point, the villagers clapped when the track almost went over. They did have smiles on their faces so I'm not sure if it was amusement or happiness.
Finally, the driver did what I would have done an hour before; back the truck up into the riverbed, realign the tires, then give it another try. It works and were are on our way again.
About two miles up the road, we pull off at a hillside clinic funded by the U.N.. This is where they decide to camp. The area is very defendable with just one way up and three sides protected by sheer cliffs. From these cliffs, you look up the deep valley that has a spectacular view of the river and its gorge below. Without a doubt, if Afghanistan ever becomes safe, this area would make it inhabitants rich as an extreme kayak/rafting location. From this vantage point I declared that it was the most beautiful spot I have seen in Afghanistan, and I've seen a few.
I quickly do an interview with on of the advisors and we make the decision to head back. It had taken us eight hours to get here so we had a long way to go.
A short way down the road and we see two men in civilian clothes with AK-47's moving along the river about 300 meters away. As soon as they saw us see them, they both ducked behind a wall. I said to Brian, "Did you see that?" He had, and we kept on moving.
An hour later we pass a mini van as another man with an Ak-47 and in civilian clothes is climbing in. Inside the van, Brian notices another 4-5 men, with rifles.
We keep on moving.
To me, it was clear that these guys were heading toward the men we just dropped off and it bothered me that the patrol wasn't stopping to check these guys. Every single unit I've been with in this country would have at least taken the weapons. Here in Afghanistan, you may own an AK-47, you just need the proper paperwork. You don't have it, you lose your rifle.
When we got back to Jalalabad, I asked Major Crell (Team Leader) why they weren't stopping these guys. He told me that the mission of the ANA was not to enforce "martial law" and that confiscating weapons were not part of their mission. He insisted that their mission was security and presence. I didn't argue the statement, but in my head I thought to myself that there will be no security until men in civilian clothes are disarmed.
I brought my questions to the intelligence officer who agreed with my assessment and opted to call Major Mitchell back at the camp and tell him what we had seen.
I was also invited to stay inn Brian' room with hi and Sgt. Stuckey. That worked out well. They had a TV, satellite and A.C. This would be my main hangout the next two days

Sunday June 21

The next morning the first thing I heard was that the camp had been attacked. The attack was a full on assault, just some sporadic small arms fire and a rocket that overshot the bivouac. Regardless, it confirmed our thoughts. Fortunately, no one was injured.
The day itself was uneventful as I sat around the PRT wishing a helicopter in. No luck.

Monday June 22

Got a chopper in the early afternoon and made my way back to Kabul. When I got here they were doing a live interview with the NATO representative to Afghanistan, which pushed my story production back two hours.
I finally got done around 9:30 and hit the rack.

ps - Did I tell you that Soldier of Fortune may be interested in publishing an article on the 22nd MEU that I wrote!! Talk about COOL!!!

Friday, June 18th

For my final trip out into Afghanistan on this contract, I decided to once again hook up with the Afghan National Army, which for the first time, has deployed east of the capital. Specifically, the 3rd Kandak was sent to Jalalabad to begin beefing up the government presence in preparation for September’s elections.
Major Bloom arranged for me to hook up with a small group of Army reservists, most of whom are based out of South Carolina and Alabama. Their mission is to train the ANA and eventually take them into the field as a “professional army”.
My point of contact, Major Mitchell picked me up at the gate of Camp Phoenix and we made our way to Bagram to catch a chopper to Jalalabad.
We were given a Blackhawk that was piloted by two young women who took the opportunity to do some pretty nifty maneuvers. These “fly girls” knew their job and the trip was quite interesting.
The flight reminded me of being in a video game. The only difference was that you could feel your stomach as they moved through their maneuvers. Personally, I thought it was fun, but not everyone would agree because if you had a weak stomach, life would be miserable.
The trip wasn’t all fancy flying, which allowed me to check out some new sights that I’d not seen before. The first major geographical difference was a huge reservoir just east of Bagram. The turquoise water looked incredibly refreshing and all I could do was think about swimming.
Beyond the reservoir lay a plush green valley that would stretch on for the rest of the 50 minute flight. To understand the context, this is something I had not seen anywhere in the country: Water. Actual running water.
The flight plan took us along a large, fat flowing river that would make my friend, Chris Crap, drool with daydreams of kayaking. The surrounding valley as green as it could possibly be. I remember thinking that if I were Afghan, this is where I would want to be.
Absolutely beautiful.
Before long, we landed on a pad of grass at the Jalalabdad Provincial Reconstruction Team. Jumping off the bird, the surroundings had all of the characteristics as I imagine Vietnam looking: Green, rice paddies, humid and hot.
The PRT itself is an old Soviet resort. The troops using the hotel as a barracks. The guys and gals here have internet, rooms, TV with satellite and plenty of shade. I quickly realized that if I was an American soldier in Afghanistan, this is also the place I would want to be. Considering we’re in a war here, it’s pretty nice.
Our patrol wouldn’t be leaving until the next morning, so we spent the rest of the day at the new ANA camp being built next to the PRT. Nothing too exciting here. I roamed the camp drinking tea and trying to talk with the men. I checked out a sprawling complex that looked centuries old and had been bombed into rubble. I later learned that it was a major Taliban base when the war began.
Back at the PRT itself, there was a bazaar, which is common on Fridays in Afghanistan. I’d never checked out a bazaar before so I decided now was the time. The best way to describe it is as a flea market. There were a lot of antiques including centuries old battle helmets and swords. There’s a ton of “haji vision” DVD’s (bootlegs), cut gems, rugs, blankets, etc… After checking everything out, I decided to buy some gems to make some jewelry for my wife (can’t say what, because it’s a surprise for her). To give you an idea of what you can buy here: A 2-carat, cut diamond would have set me back about $80!!!

Saturday, June 19

The following morning we had to be up at early for the long mounted patrol scheduled to go deep into Lagham Province, a place where there was no law and no security. The goal is to show a presence to give people the perception that it’s safe to vote. Perception is the key word here.
The patrol was seven vehicles with a total of about 50 men, 40 of them were ANA.
I rode in the gun truck which is an uparmoured Humvee with a mounted 50 caliber machine gun. The driver, a very nice Sergeant Major (Yes… a Sergeant Major) with a Sergeant First Class (Brian) in the turret.
The ride is bumpy as usual and the roads are very narrow, making it difficult for the deuce and a half trucks (2 ½ tons) to maneuver. Most of the villages we passed were filled with smiling children who would run toward the patrol with the “thumbs up” sign. Not all the villages were like this, and even the ones that were, many of the men looked menacing. At times we were spit at and given the middle finger.
About five hours into the patrol, we heard several bursts of gunfire and we dismounted into a defensive position. As I dashed from the cover of one vehicle to the next, I made my way to the top of the hill where the bulk of the ANA were in fighting positions…

Usually I get up every day at 6:00, unless it's a day when I have a set appointment. Today I had to be at Camp Phoenix at 8:00, which means I got to lay around until 7:20. What a luxury.
One of the things that stands out when lying around is the number of flies that are in my room at all times. They are one of the most annoying aspects of Afghanistan. Flies everywhere and they have no fear. They land on the tip of your nose they're so bold. Drives me crazy.
Now that I have shaken my fear of driving in this crazy place, II seem to have lost some of my anxiety. That was clear as I was driving to my story this morning. I didn't feel dependent and it felt good.
At Camp Phoenix, Major Bloom is in a meeting and the guy that was supposed to pick me up doesn't show for more than a half hour. All I could think about was a half hour more of lying around.
I finally meet up with Major Bloom and we chat a bit about the ANA before getting ready to climb into a soft convoy with the general for the trip down the road to see the ANA graduation.
While we're waiting, I see a familiar face... It's Ben Fenwick! I went with Ben to Kandahar the first week I was here and we seemed to be quite compatible. Nice guy and glad to see him once again.
About 9:15, we all climb into our respective trucks, all of them white Dodge-type 4x4's. A three truck convoy that included Brig. Gen Thomas Mancino, CO Task Force Phoenix. To make it even better, the root was down the same stretch of road that was ambushed three weeks before.
In that attack, a Norwegian patrol was attacked killing one. Apparently an RPG scored a direct hit on a turret gunner and killed him instantly. Weird that it's happening in the city like that. Shows you that this city defiantly has some anti-western bad guys in it.

I'll have to continue this some other time. I have to get ready to go to Jalalabad. I'll update you in a few days.

During my long hiatus here in Kabul, I've been able to come up with enough to make me feel as though I am getting my job done with no worry about what Istanbul may think about my performance. Fortunately I was able to come come up with some interesting ideas that have kept me busy and Istanbul happy.
Now, I'm about two weeks from getting a break and it looks like I'll be busy through the end. After having trouble getting out on a mission, I ended up hooking back up with Major Eric Bloom. Maj. Bloom was my very first "escort". Him, me and this freelance print guy named Ben, spent some time with the ANA and special Ops down in Kandahar back in April. Now, as I end my first stint in Afghanistan, it will be the help of Major Bloom that should allow me finish with a bang.
Major Bloom works at Camp Julian as part of Task Force Phoenix. This unit is charged with training and forming the new Afghan Army, and my new path to the "preferred areas" of the country. Now, instead of doing things with the coalition, I'm going to start embedding with the ANA. That guarantees to put me in areas I need to be in come August and on through the fall.
To begin this relationship, I'm doing some easy ANA stories that should propel me to the top of any list. Tomorrow I'll be checking out the Afghan boot camp and one of their battalion's graduating. It's the country's 20th "Kandak", putting them over 12,000 soldiers. Their "soldier" number will eventually be 40,000. From these pictures, I'll do an update on the progress of the ANA.
Some time after that I'll be taking a helicopter to Jalalabad to hook up with an ANA unit who has just deployed there. There job, and my story, is increased ANA security going into this fall's elections. So this will be a bit different. It'll also help the time move on!!
I've also finally sucked it up and started to drive. I have never driven in a foreign country before, and this is as bad as it gets. It's so strange driving with very few rules. Like I've said before, it's just like a giant go-cart track. Today I almost ran a kid on a bike over and it didn't phase me. It happens so frequently and things are so crazy that it doesn't even phase you, really. One thing is for sure: Driving is liberating!! It feels good too finally mobilize some!
So no new word on this "network" thing. What I do know is that they expect to do a satellite interview soon and talk to me about some things. Hopefully it will go well and they will use my services through the fall. If that happens, Heidi and I will FINALLY get a honeymoon!!
One more thing: A rocket landed in Kabul last night about 2 km away. That's the second one in a month!


BTW - You can check out some of my stories at www.iha.com.tr When it talks about installing a language pack, just cancel. Below are some story numbers.

14980
15397
15862
15930
16402

I've explained it before, but every once in a while an event happens that forces me to once again explain why I keep this blog.
Obviously, I do it first for my family and friends, so they can keep up with me.
Second is because I like to write. Third is because the past few years have been such a wild roller coaster that I felt it would be of interest to others to see the ups and down of one freelance dreamer's life. Today reminds me of this final reason.
Turns out that IHA has been in talks with a major US network that wants to meet me via satellite for an interview. This is huge news in so many ways that I'm still processing it. Obviously this is a HUGE moment in my career. This could lead to steady live work from Afghanistan through the elections. It could also lead to bigger and better things. Every day would be a job interview. Hmmm....
It's also something that comes as I'm about to go on a break. That obviously has some grief involved. This is also a good sign that IHA may step to the plate at our upcoming negotiations. They seem very pleased. A lot to think about. A lot of possibilities.
On the flip side: I'm pretty much out of time to go on another mission. Too bad, too. Not going to harp on it, but it is definitely disappointing that I couldn't get out this month. I've decided that I did everything in my power to get out. Just wasn't good enough this time. So I made contact with the Canadians and the French and might do some stuff with them. I'm also going to do some Afghan National Army stuff before I leave. Guess I'll be coasting into vacation.

Two cases that prove Murphy's Law applies to Afghanistan

1. Kamaal is a very crazy driver. It's bad enough in Kabul, but he is one of the far extreme "aggressive" drivers. One day while we are going to Afghan.com, he decides to park on the sidewalk, which is not uncommon here. What is uncommon is three soldiers telling you to move. Kamaal, who doesn't know Dari, is telling these soldiers in Turkish essentially, "Too bad." He throws his hands up and walks to the cafe. I'm just trying to hide.
At the cafe, we find that the power is out and therefore, they are closed. So we go back to the car. On the way, Kamaal gives the guards one of those, "Here.. we'll move our car..." types of gestures. He than backed into the gutter and we're stuck.
I get out and am terribly embarrassed. All I can do is look at the guards and laugh with them. They aren't busting out in laughter, but were satisfied for sure.
An Afghan gutter is nothing to play with. They're about two feet deep and a foot and a half across, constructed of very hard concrete. They usually average about six inches of trash, mud, and raw sewage flowing through and are the usual origin of the constant smell that is almost always present here.
Wham! We go in and I know we aren't getting out. I get out to look and feel like an ass. Kamaal gets out and tries to put stuff under the wheel to act as grip or something, but the tire is sitting in there spinning freely. We're hung on the axle.
It takes Kamaal three minutes before he's trying to round up the three soldiers to help him get out. It was as if nothing had just happened. I was amazed. With kudos to the soldiers, two came over with humble smiles and lifted the car out of the gutter.

2. You may remember sometime ago, our houseboy, Qubon, chopped the ears and the tail off the house pup, Damut. That earned Qubon the Dave-name,
"Tali-qubon".
For whatever reason, Qubon like to torture Damut. It's not the vicious torture, it's more subtle, but torturous none the less.
Yesterday I hear Damut yelping and go out to see Qubon giving him little kicks and all. Damut is acting like my cat, Stoopid, and is exaggerating some. Regardless, I tell Qubon to stop, which like usual, entices him to step the abuse up. So I grab a shovel and start chasing him, suggesting I cut his ears off. I do a full 360 power swing when, "SCHAAAAWING!!" The spade part of the shovel flew off and headed straight toward Qubon.
Like in slow motion it hit him right in the side of the head and across the ear and then the mouth. I thought he was dead.
Fortunately, as fast as that spade was moving, it didn't penetrate his skin and he's fine, if not humbled.
I'm now known as Dave-taliban.

I really have nothing else to talk about. The days are the same: I have five press conferences a week and try to turn at least four stories. The calls from the desk come every day with the same questions. I'm also getting no where with the Army. 12 hours after being told I was going to Salerno again, I was told I'm not going to Salerno, again. I continue to demand an explanation, and have yet to get one. Just the simple, but true: "It's up to the base commander." I've also told them the explanation needs to be "releasable". Afterall, IHA is the largest non-Western news agency in Afghanistan. I also cover more from the coalition view, in the field, than anyone in the country (not a 100% sure, but pretty sure).
Did I mention that Geraldo got three aircraft to haul his crap around? Either way, he got two of one and one of the other in regards to a large airplane C-17/30 and a helicopter. All I have is a rucksack. I don't even have a cameraman!! All I need is a jeep ride!
So, there are three major reasons why the world hears little out of Afghanistan. The first is the simplest: Iraq. Very little about Afghanistan is noticed because of the abundance of news coming from that war. This is one of the major reasons I believe that George Bush is failing here. By invading Iraq, including the subsequent events, the U.S. policy has robbed Afghanistan of the much needed press that is essential for Afghanistan's rebuilding efforts to be successful.
As we speak, UNAMA is not only 30 million dollars short in pledges to have the elections, but not one dollar of 70 million dollars that has been pledged has made it to UNAMA. Not one dollar. They need 80 million by July 1st, and that's just for the elections (which were originally scheduled for this month but are currently delayed until September).
Point is, this very controversial war (in Iraq) has slowed the efforts in the true war on terrorism to a trickle. The armed forces are getting a low intensity workout, but the real problems are not being addressed: Drugs and madrases. The only way to address these essential terror driven problems is to have a concentrated effort of rehabilitation. Rehabilitation is a word that is long an afterthought due to the war in Iraq. Amazingly enough, as near-impotent as NATO is here in Afghanistan, I'm still spinning in amazement that both Bush and Blair called for NATO to contribute to Iraq. How about fufiling the commitment to Afghanistan?
Second: American secrecy. The Americans have so many "special op" qualified people fighting the "real war" here, that it's nearly impossible to get the story. To encounter any sort of the true "combat experience" here is very rare. To be clear: The contact in this country is not easy to predict. It's actually near impossible. The problem is that a large majority of combat falls under "special operations". It's such a shame that such a large role of such a unique experience will only be conveyed in books... sometimes.
Third: The third problem is also U.S. Army linked, and that is its inability to devise a simple formula to handle the press properly. I've written before about the fun I had with the 10th Mountain-era public affairs. It would really be hard to get worse, but it has. I hope one day I am proved wrong, because the people running the show are incredibly nice.... uh.... period.
First of all, I will note that they have been at it a little over a month or so, which is not a ton of time. Beyond that, I'm at a loss. In total, they have just eight soldiers at any given time to act as the "media facilitator" (escort), who could be juggling 2-6 journalists.
Once you verify you'll be in country, you get put on a list that is supposed to be followed to get you to as close as you want to go. Often times, it takes a month of waiting before you get the "media opportunity" that you want.
Even then, there are only select places that the media is allowed. You can ask to go to a particular base, but if it's not on the regular list, you probably won't be going.
Once you do accept one of the opportunities, it's a 5-7 day visit to wherever you are going. It's always escorted. With that said, the rules of what you shoot are sensible and there is no censorship/review of material.
In a sentence: The U.S. military controls what little media that leaves Afghanistan through lack of accommodating resources and lack of accessibility to areas of interest.
Did I mention Geraldo is getting his own air force? How about the fact I just want to go to the field?

I have to say, I'm blown away with the 25th Infantry Division. When they took over a month ago, they rode in on a parade that proclaimed that "things will change". I'm happy to say that in their first attempt at working with me, they have set all records for inconvenience.
So I sit here in Kabul as the Turks change out: Today Kamaal and Ardall are heading back to Istanbul. They have been replaced by two new guys whose names I've yet to grasp. At least Kamaal spoke some English, not these two.
I'm not in the mood to write much because I just wrote a book to the Army (which is published below). I'm trying to get something changed, although I doubt that will happen. I at least need to explain my position so my head doesn't explode.

A former boss once told me, "never point out a problem without a solution". With that said, I feel a follow up is in order.
I realize there may not be much support for the idea of unescorted media, but let me try to make a case.

Case history
Currently there are journalists who have earned the chance to be unescorted. In fact, I have been unescorted in two of my four "opportunities". I know of at least one other who travels unescorted as well as a third that left Afghanistan earlier this year after a prolonged stay at Salerno.

Levels of journalism is Afghanistan
I believe that there are different levels of journalists, so there needs to be exceptions. Currently you're dealing with most of these "levels" of journalist, including "The Celebrity Journalist".

The Celebrity Journalist (and/or the producer) are always more demanding. They want to be in certain places at certain times and expect to be live wherever they want. It's a logistical nightmare and everyone is generally happy when it's over.
Point: To accommodate this level of journalist, you are obliged to bend the rules and at times, break them all together. Afterall, you have to try your best to accommodate the Dan Rathers, Tom Browkaws and Geraldos. Usually these are services not offered to all journalists (i.e. - confernce calls, special helicopters, full itinerary).

Print Journalists - For the most part, print journalists can be accommodated about anywhere. Their pieces often do not rely on great pictures, but rely on words and experiences, which makes the PAO's job much easier when placing print. Of course, if they have a particular place they want to go, they should be obliged within current standards.
On the flip side, print journalists can talk their way in to comfy stories (like with special forces and other chances) most in the TV world would not get. I have seen this rule bent MANY times.
Point: Most of these fabulous cover stories in TIME, Newsweek, US News, etc.. would never in a day be offered, or accepted, if requested by television journalists. Rules being bent.

Non Western Journalists - These folks generally aren't interested in embeds, but when they are, they would probably require an escort simply based on language and custom differences.
Point: Little or nothing is bent or broken when dealing with this group. Set standard rules would apply.

Resident Western Journalists - These are the journos who live and breathe here because you do. They include IHA, APTN, Reuters, AFP, and AP ( there may be a few others). These are the companies that spend tens of thousands of dollars a year to staff this place with journalists dedicated to covering this war on a full time basis.
Point: This group of journalists needs to be recognized differently than other journalists.

Western Journalists - These are the journalists who do not have a permanent presence in Afghanistan and swing through on occasion or come when an important event is forthcoming or happening. These include BBC, NBC, ABC, CNN, Fox, etc... Other than these network's "Celebrity Journalists", these networks should get treatment as falls under your current guidelines.
Point: These networks should pay their dues and get their fair share of PRT and non-border assignments. These networks should not be awarded the most desirable destinations just because they decide to show up. In effect you are rewarding networks for NOT putting full resources into the country and penalizing networks who work here daily.

Explanation:
Obviously one can look at this and say that it is self serving. That is something that I will admit, to an extent. However, I find myself in a very unique situation that has far different needs than most, if not all, journalists here in Afghanistan. That's why I am raising the issue.
I feel there needs to be a way to elevate certain journalists in this theater that allows them to properly report on newsworthy events. Since my case is the most familiar, that is the one I will use.
In my case (which may be unique), my sole purpose is to cover coalition forces in the field. That means I need to be in and out of the field on a regular basis in order to get my video and stories filed. This is a unique situation because as far as I know, I am the only journalist that makes covering coalition forces in Afghanistan his sole and full time obligation.
This means I will be requesting to go to various FOBs at various times, depending on the current swing of the events. What makes my job even more important is that I represent dozens of companies who are relying on me to provide their video of this conflict. Those clients include CBS and ABC when they don't have a crew in country. More importantly, they include clients across the Middle East and Central Asia. People the coalition should be especially interested in getting news out to.
To prove my case, I have filed 25, individual, full length TV productions in my first two months in Afghanistan. This does not include multiple versions of the same story. Ask around and you will find that is some serious output.

Ideas: Identify the journalists who are constantly looking for ways to cover the military in the field. After three embeds and positive recommendations from field commanders, elevate this journalist to a level that allows him/her to travel to FOBs as space is available. This is asking no more than what is offered the thousands of KBR employees who currently use the system and fly unescorted. This system is so simple, all the Bagram PAO office needs to do is escort the journalist to the flight line. All the FOB needs to do is pick that person up when they come in.

Last thoughts - If you are overburdened now, you are in for a major wake up in the coming months. Instead of having a dozen people wanting to go to Salerno, you will have 50. That is why some forethought and change may be in order.
As for me, I travel alone and have very little equipment in order to make this an appealing idea. I also travel in this fashion in order to more quickly return to the field once in Kabul. I am going completely out of my way to make my situation as compatible as possible with yours and I need some help back. Example: I purposely DO NOT use a cameraman in order to make it easier for you to place me. IHA doesn't have 2-3 man crews, we don't have 6 crates of gear, we don't leave our tents in a mess when we leave. All IHA is, is a former U.S. Marine trying to get some coverage out about a forgotten war. I would hate to note in my journals that the number one obstacle in being able to properly cover this world effort is the U.. Army.
Regardless if all of the above is way out of bounds, try to find some solution that does not penalize journalists, like myself, that continually cover this story. To hear from Salerno that I was passed over my place in line because "I've already been there" is crazy. To knock me off the list and make room for others who rarely show interest in going to the field in the first place makes no sense. What's happening is you are rewarding networks who "rush to the scene" because "they haven't been out there yet." At the same time penalizing me because I cover the military full time. It's easy to run to a story, it's more difficult to cover it and try to find it. Regardless, whether I've been to Salerno 50 times or not at all, it should bear no weight on where my name falls on this "list".

Hope you're still awake.

Thanks,
Dave Tate
Ihlas News Agency

PS - Officer references available.

Wow... my ship keeps taking on water.

Woke up today to the plesantry of the voices of my new roomates. That's right, two more non-english speaking Turks. Yipee.
The news continued to get better. I decided to go to the ISAF press conference early today because I need to get out of Kabul. Mysteriously losing the trip to Salerno has me on the warpath.
So I track down the U.S. PAO to find out what the deal is. He claims that they shaved off a couple of spots and that I was the one to go. I then find out from a friend that Army at Salerno felt slighted when I left the FOB last month to join the marines. So now I'm not allowed a spot there anymore. Great, eh? The top FOB in Afghanistan people want to go to and I can't. We'll be trying to fix this obviously. Now any trip out of Kabul is up in the air and it's driving me nuts.
A silver lining came to my day when I was sitting on the roof studying Dari. Down below and across the street, I see a little kid carefully get into the very nasty gutter and pull out fruit drink container someone just threw down. The kid carefully wiped it off and did what he could to polish off the juice.
At this time I decided I could make a wish happen. This kid wishes he had a cool drink, and in a few minutes, he will. I decided I had enough Dari and I climbed down from the roof and went out of the gate to the street. By then the boy had hooked up with what probably was an older sister, maybe 10. The two, hand in hand, went off begging, following some guy down the street.
By the eime I got out of the store with three drinks, the kids were gone, but I knew they couldn't be far. I walked around the busy circle looking for them in all directions and like usual, I saw them down the last street possible. They moved quick and were hitting up Turkilsh contracters a few blocks down, to no avail. So I started hoofing it as toward them as they held hands and walked down the road.
Soon they went around a corner and I picked it up a little. I was getting a wierd feeling I was being watched. People probably thought I was a perv. Once I rounded the corner, I was picking up the distance on them. Just one more block.
Finally, a few minutes is all I need and I yel, "Hey". The kids turn around and run toward me. This is different then in the country. Kids there are very weary of strangers. Regardeless, not these ones.
Both come running at me with hands out asking for money. The boy looks about 5, but seems small for his age. The girl around 10 and shy looking. I open my bag and show them the drinks and the boys eyes lighht up. "Mister!". I ask the best I can if they want them and the say they do. I give the girl her choice and the boy happily gets the remainder. A quick thank you and off they go.

So I have another six days here in Kabul, then it's off to FOB Salerno for the second time. This time I'll be staying a bit longer. Hopefully they'll have things to do that will keep me busy until I return to the states.
Until then I have a handful of stories II'm working on. One I mentioned yesterday with the voter registration. That's actually the story I'm doing today. Tomorrow's a press conference where they plan on making an announcement of types that will answer some questions concerning the prisoner abuse allegations. I might do some sightseeing on Thursday and then Friday do a story about a successful study that shows the cultivation of roses may be the answer to replace poppy's. They think Afghanistan could be a major player in the fragrance world. Hmmm...
So obviously since I am talking about this stuff, life is a bit boring right now. I guess that's ok for the time being, but it's wearing me out. By the way, if you're reading this, there's gonna be a Summer SwillFest at my house in Virginia July 10th. Get in touch for details.

Finally, Ronald Regan.

I first saw Ronald Reagan in the summer of 1980 in Birmingham, Michigan. Then, Governor Reagan, was making a move to become president. Just 12, I was along for the ride.
I remember the crowd and the buildings surrounding the area where the speech would be. On those buildings were snipers. I don't remember the speech itself, although I do recall seeing the Governor Reagan. I remember a lot of red, white and blue.
Really though, the highlight for me was when I saw a TV reporter. I remember distinctly that he was with ABC national news. I proceeded to stick my head and distorted face into two of his stand ups before the photographer chased me away.
I never personally saw Reagan after that. I did buy the hype that the commies were coming up from Central America (afterall, Red Dawn kicked ass!), so I did my duty and joined the marines. President Reagan was now my Commander-in-Chief.
I admit, I liked Reagan than, but as I grew older, I started realizing how blind I was when it really came down to it.. You'll hear people say he was the "Great Communicator" and how his "acting skills would come in handy". These things are true. Ronald Reagan had a great charisma and he was a good actor.
On the political front, he won a 50 year stare down with the Soviet Union that resulted in the fall of the Soviet Empire. What an accomplishment!! For me though, it's what else he did that bothers me. I'm not talking about the fact that he illegally diverted money to prop up an illegal army fighting a sovereign country. What he can remember was done in our national interest, so he gets the benefit of the doubt. What he did do that so bothers me is that while he squeezed the nation for more money to build a huge military, he also enacted huge tax cuts that created the largest disparity between the "haves" and the "have nots" in history. That gap continues to grow today. Reagan's ultimate, tangible legacy. Clinton wiped out much of his huge deficit, but to this day, we're still stuck with the middle class being raped into near extinction.
Fact is, Ronald Reagan was a great president for foreign policy and the established rich. For families like mine; hard working, blue collar Americans, Ronald Reagan made the road to the "American Dream" a lot longer.
In fact, I consider Reagan the man who started the current breed of conservativism that continues in G.W.'s genes today. It appears to be a holdover style of politics that isn't going to cut it in the world of the 21st century.
Regardless, with all of this said, the world is NOT better off now that Reagan is gone. That day came when his second term expired.

In some late news: Just got word I won't be going to Salerno but wil find "something" for me... hmmm

If there's one place in Kabul that I can actually find some sort of relief, it's the roof.
People go up there once in a while to fix the satellite dish or do the know rare live shot. I go up there to watch the world go by and plot my next move or think about my wife or McDonald's....
I come up here at least four times a day when I'm in Kabul. All I can do is wait sometimes. To get to the roof, you have to climb an eight foot bamboo ladder to the top of the garage. A the back of the garage is fixed re-bar embedded in the chimney. That's up another six feet to a secondary roof. On this roof is a much longer ladder, maybe about 12 feet long. It's also straight out of Gilligan's Island and must be climbed more horizontally than your typical ladder. Up another nine feet.
From up here you can see almost 360 degree mountains. Like Roanoke, but these mountains are brown. The smog and dust is so apparent here as well. You can see it in Roanoke, but here it is thick and brown and lays very low. It has the feel of a growing nation, but at times the smell here is stifling.
So I sit on one of the chimney vents and try to figure out what to do. I have some Kabul stories I can work. I have the triweekly coalition press conference. I also need to get the hell out of here and back into the field. This new division seems to be prided on doing a better job than the last command. So far, they have the record for me waiting. But even more so, I'm wondering again what I'll be doing next month.
I really like doing what I'm doing. To be sure, I have a great job. I get paid to go on patrol with the military. I get to have all the military fun without having to deal with most of the military crap. Not to mention the fact that when I feel like going home, I just pack up and get the next plane out. That's gotta make my military friends cringe at times.
Unfortunately, there are some things that need to be addressed and I'm worried they won't be. My time in Kabul this past week has been an eye opener from a few perspectives. So I can only hope things work out.
I may also have an opportunity at the local news radio station from which I just came. That and an opportunity at a station in Washington D.C. have had my head spinning again. Personally I hope IHA and I can meet in the middle so I can at least come back until the middle of November or so.
It's getting exciting as the elections approach. The battlefield has been heating up, but the government efforts keep pushing forward. There is a real sense that the elections will happen in September. What remains a question is what will happen. The parameters of this conflict are not only many, but far ranging as well. This leaves a huge number of "what if" scenarios possible over the next 2-6 months. This one question is a can of worms: How will warlords accept and participate in the elections? One thing is for sure, since my betting is so atrocious, I'm betting there will be trouble soon for the coalition in places currently stable. Hopefully, like usual, my prediction is wrong and everything will be great? We'll see.
Like in other situations where the coalition is attempting to show the world that the Afghans are beginning to realize their own country, the role of the coalition is once again a support role in terms of the elections. The U.S. doesn't want to be seen as influencing the elections, so U.S. soldiers will be staged in areas near election points in case of an emergency. However it's the Afghan National Army and various Afghan Militias that are going to run security inside of the towns where voting is taking place.
As of this week, 3 million Afghans have registered to vote. Just over 1,000,000 of those registered are women. This is good news for the country as a whole. In their first free elections, Afghanistan will have a significant amount of women voting, something the United States can't even remotely come to claim and something no one predicted would happen.
Afghanistan is a marathon, not a sprint. What we have here is a country that, for the most part, is thankful for the support. There is some signs that people are growing impatient, but for the most part the people just keep plugging away at carving out an existence.
Everywhere in Kabul, people are opening businesses and trying to get a handle on lives everyone thought were lost. Outside the cities, life hasn't changed much. Many places need the most simple of things like wells and food. Remarkably, these people too seem to be patient as well.
That doesn't mean that everything is honky dory. Many people in the north, west, and south bitterly complain that the national government has forgotten them. They say that they have given peace nearly three years to work for them and they still receive nothing. This in my opinion is why these regions are pumping out the drugs like crazy. This year is set to be a record harvest and is expected to grow exponentially. Since every warlord and governor has their fingers in the pie, that's where they're going to stay until the federal government can come up with something that is just as lucrative. I have a feeling the next war in this country will be a drug war that has the potential to turn into civil war. An end result of which could finally turn the populace against the coalition.

Well, in some late news: I'm stuck in Kabul until next Monday. Only then can I get a lift to Khowst and FOB Salerno. That should move me into my vacation.

We stop on the northside of Moqur for gas and realize that the right wheel on the trailer is about to fly apart at the axle. Nadir finds that there's a tire shop just down the street. At this point, things are not looking good. We head back into Moqur and end up doing a u-turn in this ungodly crowded place. The truck attracts attention, the u-turn attracts attention and the white guy in the passenger seat attracts attention.
Nadir figures out that the shop is down a small alley which opens up into an enclosed area that acts as the working area for about a half dozen auto service-type shops. There's a narrow alley running out of the place, but deeper into the city. If there was a place to die, it was here and our trailer was toast.
Nadir gets out and starts working a deal to get things fixed. Obviously, he being fluent in Pashtun, Nadir's presence was key to everything getting off to a good start.
At this point, me and the AK (now known as "Fear") step out of the truck and keep a keen eye on Nadir. Watching for any approaching trouble.
In all, the men and boys were very nice. It appeared genuine. Our wheel definately was FUBAR and these guys put some major ingenuity and resourcefulness into fixing it. They even had to weld it and the whole nine yards.
After an hour and a half, they finish the job. Nadir coughs up $40 and he hurriedly says "Let's go, David", and he gets out of dodge. I had already given away all the food, water and magazines that I could give. Everything was fine, we were just glad to be out of there. Had we not stopped, Ghazni Province ahead offered nothing but desert of the most barren kind: So dry and windy you could count a dozen dust devils at any time. Many reaching over a hundred feet in the air.
A few more hours up the road and we are in Ghazni City. Very old city with many very obvious historical sites right next to the road. As we leave the town, I want to ensure the AK works, so I chamber a round and drop the magazine. BLAM! A big puff of dust kicks up as the rifle kicks back in my hand. Just like L.A.!! I really wanted to fire it full auto, but only having one magazine's worth of ammo, I didn't think it wise. At least it works and is in nice shape. Something to have at the house in case of an emergency.
Obviously, the first thing Kamaal goes for when we get back is the AK. Cracks me up. Tells Qubon to put it in his room. Of course I redirected him. Seriously, what nerve. Why in the hell would I go through the trouble to get him an AK? This is on Saturday, May 29th.

I've been out of the field now a week. Not my best, that's for sure. The plan was for me to come to Kabul for 2-3 days, renew my visa, then head back to Kandahar to join the Marines for an extended operation that could go well beyond a week.
Of course everything is going fine. I have to pay a $40 late fee on my visa, which is understandable. Unfortunately, I get the bad news from Captain Dent that he doesn't think he can get me to the Marines as we'd planned. No further explanation and that's the last I've heard from him.
In the meantime word came out of two major contacts in Oruzgan. One, with the group I was with, had killed 17 ACM and had three wounded. That's the type of luck I have. Spend all that time with the Marines, and then I lose out on the finale. It's the most extensive contact in a year. Had everything worked out to be there and the Marines failed me. That would've been a nice payday. Instead, I'm in Kabul fighting off a clueless assignment desk.
With that falling through, I'm back to trying to work with the army. I'm trying to get to Zabul or southern Kandahar Provinces. That is definately where the majority of the fighting is at currently. One more operation, than get ready to head home for a month. That will be good. I have a date set with the ISAF Quick Reaction Force scheduled the week I leave. That'll help me get ready to head out on a good note. Now I need an operation or two to fit in between.
Whatever happens, I have to get out of Kabul. My desk continues to call me and ask me to cover local stories here. I have no vehicle, no phone, no internet and no translater.
Now, I'm an American in a city where there is a fawtah proclaiming the death of all Americans, including civilians. Now, if you had none of the above resources,
would you be wandering around the streets of Kabul, alone, stumbling through phrases like, "where's the hospital?".
By the way, Kabul has had its first reported deaths due to AIDS recently. Having been too slow at getting back to the field, they want me covering local stories. Never mind that I've produced 3 exclusive stories in the first 5 days of the month. Never mind that I don't speak Farsi. Forget the fact that there is no local phone here at the office or internet. Very frustrating. Mildly challenging I'd say. Not sure how it will get done, and frankly, I'm not stressing it. I can only do what is within my realm. Beyond that, I can't afford to stress. Just isn't worth it.

###Second submission today. Start below###

***Also - Check out the final set of 22nd MEU pictures at www.iha.com.tr and look at story #16554

Once we get back into Ripley,I immediately head to S-1 to try to get a flight out that night. No luck. There is a chopper tomorow at 2pm. Not bad. One more night in this sandbox won't kill me.
The ride back in was very nice. We were in a CH-46 and flying at most 200 feet abouve the ground. The first part was through high canyons that were just beautiful to watch go by. If there's one thing for sure: Getting paid to take these rides is very good.
So the plan is to feed when I get back and leave in the morning. By now I've acquired an AK-47 for the trip home and all we need to do is pack.
Of course Nadir is elated that I'm back. "Oh David, I'm so bored..." is all I hear. So we're gonna get back to Kabul so I can renew my very outdated visa and head back to Kandahar to join the marines for one last operation.
The morning begins at 4am, which is first light here. We pack it up, pay the Germans back for waking us the week before and we set off into Taliban country hoping to God we don't attract any in our white jeep that says "TV" on it and has a satellite dish attached to the roof.
As soon as we leave the gate I get the AK out, pop the magazine in, and set it between my legs. If we were going down this day, someone was going with. Hopefully, that will not be needed.
As in the last time I drove this, the sunrise is spectacular. This trip, however, I had my eye on the road and everyone on it. I looked at hill tops and ambush spots. The pistol grip of my AK rarely left my hand.
Every thing was going fine until about 6 hours into the trip in the city of Moqur. We're still in Taliban country and our trailer's right wheel breaks at the axle...

So we head off toward another objective. First, we need to meet another band of AMF. This group comes from Kandahar. There's a big rejoicing-style meeting in the middle of the desert where all these warlords, governors and some marines have a "get-to-know ya" type of thing. As Bullard describes it, "Now we all go off campaigning."
The Jurga decides on a village where information has been given there's a probable Taliban presence. We mount back up and head of toward Oruzgan. The ride, like all of them, is bumpy beyond the true meaning of the word. And like all others, it's long. Thank god for a helmet because I kept dozing off only to be awoken by my head smacking the side of the hummvee.
We finally make it to the next target. A small town that is very pretty from my vantage point. The whole area is a bleak desert, then the terrain drops down drastically into a deep hollow that's as green as Virginia. In there is the village. Unfortunately a few minutes later, we realize that "B" Company has already been through here. So we all meet again, decide on another village, and head that way in our now huge procession.
When we get to where we're, it's a set of homes with mulberry orchards in the middle of the homes. It's under these trees we'd spend the next several hours.
The Governor isn't feeling well and has decided to sleep. So do all of his men. Everywhere are the sleeping AMF: Under trees, under trucks, in the open. All sleeping the day away.
Meanwhile, the marines are working intelligence tips and go off to nab a couple of suspects. The marines in the other assault forces are not recovering much of anything other than a small cache at the beginning of the operation. The men found with that cache are now in U.S. custody. As is a young man who was throwing rocks at the marines and when caught, was found in the vicinity of an AK-47. You've been PUC'd! The Marines also nab 4 other men, two of whom turn out to be rather known Taliban in this area.
So the day is spent interrogating these guys. All of whom appear to be mixing up their stories as to why 15 rockets were found beneath his living room floor. The kid throwing the rocks turns out to be the town special kid, by all accounts, and is separated from the rest.
In the end, for reasons I'm not sure of, all of the suspects were released. I didn't realize it until we got to the kids town. There, we all got out and the kid (I say kid, but he was 19 going on 14) is led out and told to sit. Everyone is gathered around and the governor starts giving him a lecture. The kid has several fun responses that gets the crowd rolling. Of course the Americans can only be amused the AMF is all amused. The kids restraints are cut and he gets up. The governor hands him the equivalent of about $6 and the kid walks off. The whole way he is stopping every few steps, turning and saying things that makes all the Afghans laugh. It was pretty amusing. I tried to equate the scene to one that would happen in the states. Take away the guns, and it's a scene I've seen before.
So by now I fully realize what's going on. The four men with the rockets were "vouched for" by the governor. Two were in the wrong place at the wrong time and two were brothers and admitted Taliban, a third brother escaped. They struck a deal with the governor to bring in their brother by Sunday with the promise they wouldn't be beaten, tortured or killed.
It was described to me as how the governor prefers to handle the militants. Since the Marines are scheduled to leave sometime in July, it's the governor that has to deal with the vacuum left behind in the wake of the marines' departure. His belief is that integration is the key. The area is to deeply rooted by conservative customs, that it would not be possible to "de-Taliban" the area. That's the way many of these people are and have been. This is the home of Mullah Omar.
So Jan Mohammed is trying to win "the hearts and minds" of his own people, even those that have problems with violence. In his mind, he's talked to these men, given and received words of honor and it goes from there. Anything that goes wrong and the AMF knows where he lives. If he runs, he spends his life on the run which makes his life expectancy drop dramatically. Interesting theory in pacification. I may venture back down here toward the elections in September. We'll see how that idea pans out.
So in one day, all eight objectives are secured and no one is officially PUC'd. The command element decides not to stay in the field and we head back to FOB Ripely. On the way we stop at a natural hot spring. Surprised me too. One of the springs had a mud building around it, the other was open and surrounded by people washing themselves and clothes in it.
I've learned, anytime we stop, get out and check it out. It's usually for a reason. So I make my way to the front of the column and there's Colonel Kahn taking his boots off. He wades into the spring and dives in. I thought it was funny. I think the crowd had a mixed, but relatively good, reaction.
From there the governor got into the act and put soap onto the Colonel's back and scrubbed away. Now the Colonel had a bath and laundry done. It was somme good spontaneous fun and something you don't see from your everyday battalion commander. He has a good way about of him; an old Corps style with a new Corps feel.
We make it back to FOB Ripely just after sundown. Captain Bullard calls in our request and we head to the gate. Turner doesn't notice the band of concertina wire in the way, and we plow into a roll and get tangled. A few minutes later, we're untangled and rolling through the gate. Five minutes after that there's a call on the radio that a "convoy almost ran over my man at the gate and didn't even bother to stop". These are fellow Marines. Ouch.

So even though my alarm is set, someone woke Captain Dent so he could get my late-ass up. Actually, I wasn't late, they just wanted me there sooner than they told me. However, for the purpose that humility goes a mile, I was late.
No problem. I'm quick to move and before no time where I should be. I'm assigned a Hummvee with the intelligence officer, Capt. Bullard. Taller than average, chisel -type. Deep strong voice. Pretty nice guy. Meritoriously earned a commission. First time I'd heard of that. Very rare means very cool. The driver's name is Turner and beside me is a sergeant of unknown surname. I do know he's from Michigan, just north of Muskegon. It's near the area my Grandfather Sloat was born and raised.
When I jumped into the hummer, the two marines were sleeping, just waiting for the word. Captain Bullard and I got some coffee out of the command tent. Fortunately for me, it was the uncomfortable, "last cup and the Colonel hasn't had one yet" scenarios. It was a good cup.
See, I understand how the ship is ran here, as do his men. Lt. Col. Khan is a tough Marine. He's is direct, abrasive and demanding. Yet at the same time, it's in a manner of "no kidding guys, just think!" type of attitude. He expects a lot and everyone knows it. There's a real "snap to" when he talks to you. People react with urgency to him, and when they don't, you know about it.
Three hours into the ride through the desert, the sun had come up and the dust was just warming up. I've said it before, and I have to reiterate it: The dust here is absolutely choking.
We stop at a small village that is a "known" Taliban - sympathizing village. It's been surrounded since just past dawn by some special Marines and some AMF units. No one gets out until the Marines search it.
This is how it's done by the Marines and they've been doing it across southern Orazgun since late April. This particular mission is known as "Thunderball" and is expected to last three days.
At least five different U.S. elements, including the command element (which I'm in), are about to begin clearing eight objective areas throughout south and eastern Orazgun.
In all, the command element has about 50 Marines and more than 200 AMF troops. Claimed by Lt. Col. Kahn as "a first". Quite the party. At times it's like the "Road Warrior". We're moving down the horrible roads at a pretty fare speed, and these little Toyota trucks are zipping along side of you crammed to the gill with AMF fighters. No kidding, 10 - 12 in one pick up bed. All armed, some of them high. I'm told repeatedly that the AMF is almost as bad as the insurgent forces. Robbery, beatings, and rape are not uncommon, but unverifiable.
From what I gather, Jan Mohammed is a shady guy himself. Thrown in prison and tortured by the Taliban, he was personally rescued by President Karzai and is considered a staunch supporter of the president. Mohammed's efforts have helped bring security to the area, enough so that more than 10,000 have registered to vote since the Marines came a month ago.
But there is talk that the governor is involved in the drug trade. This would not at all be uncommon and really shows the root of the problem here in Afghanistan. Everything is connected to the drug trade. Warlords, militias, governors, terrorists, the local economy. All of it dependent on the poppy plant. In fact there is no way possible that the governor, whose compound is surrounded by the lovely flower, would not be getting a cut of the wealth that surrounds him. It's ingrained in the culture here and it's going to be a tough habit to break.
Currently the coalition is in a "support mode" and pretty much turns a blind eye to the poppies. There is an unconfirmed, but well "in the know" report that two soldiers killed in Orzagun province earlier this year weren't killed by Taliban, but were killed by farmers after they torched some poppy fields.
I'm also told that satellite imagery shows that this year's poppy harvest (which we are in the middle of) will be a record harvest. This is the first full harvest since the fall of the Taliban, which just a few years ago had the poppy nearly eradicated.
So here we are going "campaigning" with a group called by some Marines as "The Flying Circus".
At the first village, Colonel Kahn is out of his jeep yelling at the Marines still in their trucks. "Get the f*** out of the trucks! Who's in charge here?" You're like a bunch of old people!"
The Marines sweep into the village with the AMF and begin the process of searching it. They pushed through the village quickly at first, then regrouped and started a methodical search.
An hour into the search and I am watching Capt. Bullard ask a young bearded man questions. Bullard's goal is to try to trip the suspect up, very similar in technique to a lawyer. It takes absolutely no time for the officer to have the guys' story all wound up in inconsistencies. The one that sticks out is that he has permission for the governor to be working here. When asked who the governor was (who was standing outside), he didn't know.
Just then gunshots ring out from the compound the man claimed to own. We all immediately started running toward the sound of the gunfire. I follow two Marines across the open yard, and there's more shots. We make it to a door and I wait behind them. I can hear children crying and all I can think is that the Marines shot someone in front of those kids.
As we get into the compound, I see a large dog that had been shot lying in a door war. Behind me a woman is crying. The marines that fire explain that the dog charged them and they were forced to shoot. That is the normal and expected procedure: Don't get bitten. The dog is taken to a ditch and left there. The owner wants $80.
I make my way toward the group of men who had just been interrogated (in the shade with tea). Colonel Khan points out the large stack of wheat that is piled up. He says he has been learning that these villages are staging points for the guerrillas. Villagers buy extra rice and allow the insurgents to store small caches of ammunition in the cracks and crevices of the mountains surrounding the village.
When an attack is planned, the militants pick up there supplies and move on.
Intelligence is gathered, but no one is arrested. Besides the rice, two boxes of Chinese AK-47 rounds are found. The town elders are told there won't be any wells coming this way until they change their ways. The convoy loads up and moves on.