Strong Point Alpha, Helmand Province, Afghanistan
Ninety-seven days and counting. The Marines of the 24th MEU came here in April on a seven-to-ten day mission to push out the Taliban in this area. They enjoyed initial success, meeting heavy resistance and wiping out large numbers of enemy fighters until violence dropped to almost nothing and the residents of the area, who had fled into the desert to avoid the Taliban, began returning to their homes.
This is an ancient land, and it looks that way. Life has changed very little over the last few centuries for the residents of Garmsir, a remote district south of Kandahar.
These simple farmers grow corn, rice and opium, as well as herding goats, sheep and camels, just as their Persian ancestors did.
Electricity here is a rare commodity. Telephones are unheard of. There isn't a single paved road in the entire province. It's a harsh, forbidding place. You'd think if someone was determined to take this land, the residents would gladly give it up and move elsewhere.
But fighting is another longstanding tradition these people inherited from their elders.
The very remoteness of the area made it a perfect haven for the Taliban when U.S. and coalition forces drove them out of the cities. And when the Marines arrived, the Taliban fought fiercely and died in earnest. For their part, the Marines were happy to assist.
After months of fighting, any Taliban left alive moved on or melted into the population and gave up the direct combat for a more insidious, asymmetrical type of warfare -- the kind an enemy fights when he knows he cannot win by force and hopes to instead break the will of his enemy by wearing him down.
Improvised Explosive Devices, or IEDs, became the weapon of choice.
But the coalition learned to apply the lessons it learned in Iraq -- using creative new tactics and ultra-high-tech machines and equipment to lessen the risk. And it worked -- to a point.
Enemy activity in the Helmand province dropped to almost nothing in May and June, to the point that some of the Marines stationed in these lonely outposts reported not having heard an explosion in 60 days.
But today, the peace was broken.
A routine census patrol this evening went horribly wrong when the lead vehicle hit a massive IED buried in the road, sending a mushroom cloud of flame skyward.
Oliver North, embedded here with a Fox News crew, was riding with the patrol and watched the humvee in front of his get hit, then realized in horror that his cameraman, Chris Jackson was in that vehicle.
Fortunately, Chris escaped with only minor injuries, but two of the Marines in the vehicle weren't so fortunate. They suffered trauma to their legs and had to be evacuated by helicopter. Chris lost all his camera gear, but bravely pulled one of the Marines from the burning wreckage.
I was back at Strong Point Alpha and had just muttered a prayer for the Fox team's safety when the call came in that the patrol had hit an IED. We immediately learned that there were two men seriously wounded, but there was no information as to their identities.
I grabbed my camera and ran to join the Quick Reaction Force that was scrambling to the patrol's aid. Five minutes later we found the patrol -- its Marines dismounted and fanned out along the road, pulling security while corpsmen worked feverishly on the wounded. A moment later a Marine Sea Knight helicopter swooped in to collect the casualties.
Ammunition cooked off in the burning wreckage for more than two hours afterward. The patrol secured the area and waited for a tow truck. They weren't going to leave anything for the enemy to use for propaganda or anything else.
Corporal Joshua Ellis, the commander of the Humvee in which I'd ridden to the scene, looked grim. "Get comfortable, boys. Looks like we're going to be here all night."
The Marines accepted this news with stoic determination -- nobody groaned or cursed. They are impressive men that way, enduring hardship with gusto that takes every ounce of determination this old Ranger has just to keep up.
As the sun set, the two other Marines who had been riding in the burning vehicle sat quietly together, drinking water and talking quietly with each other. It's not hard to imagine that they will replay today's events over and over in their minds, wondering what might have happened if the bomb had detonated one nanosecond later, and where they might be at this moment if it had.
Helmand province is quiet again tonight. But today's events were a rude reminder that these Marines can't let themselves get comfortable just yet.
More to come from Helmand Province. Stay tuned.
Chuck Holton
www.livefire.us