Michael's Dispatches
- Details
- Published: Monday, 12 October 2009 13:42
Market Garden
A Remembrance During Time of War
Kandahar City, Afghanistan
Slowly, surely, the city is being strangled. Signaling the depth of our commitment, security forces are thinner in Kandahar than the Himalayan air. During the days and evenings, there were the sounds of occasional bombs—some caused by suicide attackers, and others by firefights. The windows in my room had been blown out recently and now were replaced. We came here to kill our enemies, but today we want to make a country from scratch.
A world away from Afghanistan, over in Holland, was approaching the 65th anniversary of the allied liberation from Nazi occupation, and I had been invited to attend by James “Maggie” Megellas. Maggie, who had fought his way through Holland and is today remembered there as a hero, is said to be the most decorated officer in the history of the 82nd Airborne Division. Now 92, Maggie has recently spent about two months tooling around the battlefields of Afghanistan, and though it would be an honor to finally meet him, there was the matter of extracting myself from Kandahar City and getting through about forty minutes of dangerous territory to the military base at Kandahar Airfield.
And so a friend and I donned local garb and loaded into the car.
Criminals and Taliban were on the lookout for westerners to kidnap, and unknown to us an intelligence report had just been issued that men in a stolen Toyota Corolla were on the prowl in Kandahar City.
The camera was mostly kept down but occasionally I lifted for quick shots. Kandahar City, like other main Afghan cities, belies the fact that most Afghans will never have one minute of electricity, nor will they ever see a westerner.
Afghan police love to jet around at high speeds in their trucks, often with powerful machine guns mounted on back.
Shortly after this photo was taken, my friend, who had been a South African cop for 16 years, spotted two men in a white Toyota Corolla who had locked onto us. They drove swiftly by for a look-see, then hit a Y intersection ahead on the right. They tried to get back in, but traffic slowed them by about ten seconds. I was watching over my shoulder when they dangerously bolted back into the traffic a couple hundred meters behind us. The camera was on the floorboard. I had picked up a pistol and rested it on my right thigh. My friend rolled down his window and I rolled down mine. They were moving in. In less than a minute, someone probably would die. The car was speeding closer when per chance a green Afghan police pickup rocketed by the pursuers. The green police truck was mounted with a machine gun, and a long belt of ammo was dangling, while a policeman kept his hands on the gun. I hid the pistol. The pursuers slowed. We continued at about 40mph as the police swooshed by. The police pulled off the road a few hundred meters ahead of us and the white car fell back more, until it passed the police and began to speed up, but that was it. The pursuers were caught behind too many trucks and fell away. I put down the pistol and picked up the camera.
None of the paved roads in Afghanistan were built by Afghan vision with Afghan resources. If not for the many foreign invaders, this land would be road-and runway-free.
An American convoy of MRAPs approached from the front and a soldier in the lead vehicle shot a pen-flare, causing everyone to pull off the road. The convoys are more menacing from the outside and in fact I kept the camera down and this is exactly why Secretary of Defense Robert Gates is concerned about adding too many troops. Can’t argue with his reasoning; convoys and troops truly are menacing despite that U.S. and British soldiers are very disciplined. It must look far worse to Afghans. Most Afghans never talk with foreign soldiers and those who do normally only see us in passing. In fact, most soldiers never leave base. Our forces at KAF (Kandahar Airfield) have a base so large that this commercial jet is about to land there after flying dangerously over this unsecured road.
After arriving at Kandahar Airfield, the Dutch Air Force took me, and long after midnight we boarded a Canadian C-130 and flew to Dubai.
From Dubai, the Dutch soldiers got onto a chartered flight to Eindhoven, Netherlands.
Over the Arabian Gulf, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, Syria, skirting Iraq.
Finally into Holland, we landed at the Dutch Air Force Base at Eindhoven, where families and others were waiting for Dutch soldiers. Someone shoved a rose and a gift into my hand and I smiled, protesting that I am only a writer, and tried unsuccessfully to return the rose and the gift.
There was a short taxi ride to the hotel.
And right there in the lobby was a throng of World War II veterans whose first trips to Europe had been either under parachute into combat, or by gliders into combat. (As would be revealed over the next five days.) So I sat down with Guadelupe Flores because he was sitting alone while people crowded around other vets. His grandson Matt came over. I hadn’t even fully checked in yet. Guadelupe said he was from Texas originally but now lived in Ohio, and he’d just arrived. “Did you parachute in this time?” I asked. Guadelupe only chuckled, “Not this time,” and chuckled some more. Please have a look at Guadelupe’s left eye. This is the last picture before he got the black eye, which is a funny story. (Guadelupe was on the Army boxing team, he would later say.)
Maggie Megellas was there along with a large group of American university students who had broken off with small groups of veterans. A man said that General Petraeus’ staff was here and General Petraeus was coming to stay at the same hotel.
Finally I got to the room and there was an email from Afghanistan:
I've heard we had to be on the lookout for a group of kidnappers, targeting expats in Kandahar. Apparently they are using a stolen white Toyota Corolla station wagon and a red Toyota Surf. Wonder if we “met” them yesterday?
Actually there had been two suspected vehicles that seemed like they might be working together, but I didn’t mention the second vehicle. Every day in the war is a close call.
The Market Garden remembrance was to begin in the morning.
DAY ONE
Before the description of this incredible remembrance begins, it must be noted this was all paid for by the Market Garden Committee (MGC). The hotel, buses, many of the meals, was all paid and arranged for by the Dutch. Alex Ohmof was the ringleader for the MGC and it can now be said with certainty that Mr. Ohmof is a master coordinator. Over the next nearly week, I was the only man who got lost from the group. We seemed to drive all over Holland and didn’t lose a single veteran or soul, other than me.
Next morning we—the veterans and university students who were traveling with them—loaded into a bus and drove to Margraten Cemetery, the only U.S. military resting place in the Netherlands. Margraten was immaculate and huge and the Dutch people were treating our veterans extremely well, and some were saying “Thank you for liberating us.” (Over the next days, this must have been repeated thousands of times.)
Veterans arrived who were not with our group, including this gentleman whose accent was difficult to discern. His accent didn’t sound American but his cap and words were 100% “Made in USA.” He talked with other veterans about landing on D-Day. When he finished, I asked, “Are you American?” and again he laughed, “Of course, son, look at dis hat!” and he tapped his hat. “But your accent doesn’t sound American.” He was from Georgia but after the war had married a Belgian girl. He wanted to take her home to Georgia but she wanted to stay in Belgium. He’s been married ever since. In Belgium. We must have talked for twenty minutes. His story was so interesting that I didn’t even ask his name.
The caretaker of Margraten welcomed the veterans and gave a little speech and told some history. He seemed proud of his important responsibility.
We walked out to the graves where 8,301 Americans are at rest. Several Dutch would say that every single grave has been adopted by a Dutch family and they put flowers on the headstones at special times.
Robert G. Cole earned the Medal of Honor.
Homage.
An American who parachuted into combat at sixteen years of age. He recounts the day that he and his sixteen-year-old buddy were crawling in a low space and a couple German soldiers threw in a grenade and blew off his buddy’s face, killing him. But the Germans didn’t see this soldier, so he shot them and then killed two more. Stress washed over his face as he recounted that day.
Maggie recounts how his buddy 1 LT Harry Busby had a premonition before crossing the Waal River, that he would be killed. So Harry stripped off watch and other valuables and handed those to his buddies. To try to understand why the Dutch so revere these men, and what Maggie was talking about when he, Harry and the others crossed the Waal River, it would be good to watch this trailer from A Bridge Too Far.
This clip depicts the Waal River Crossing.
After paying respects at Margraten we loaded on the bus to a village called Eerde. The corn in Helmand, Afghanistan is taller now. Firefights will be occurring today in cornfields in Afghanistan.
In Eerde were many dozens of World War II re-enactors who take their roles seriously, trying to accurately maintain or reproduce everything from the tiniest part of bootlaces to rifles, cannons and airplanes. They were a sight. They were living out there for some days, complete with World War II tents of all sizes, sleeping bags, jeeps and the works.
A re-enactor loads a rifle with blanks. Usually blanks are not loud, but these were ear-splitting like the real McCoy.
Looks can fool: The most dangerous animal on the planet is a young infantryman.
Many or all of the re-enactors here seemed to be Dutch. They brought an eerie realism, maybe because just yesterday I came in from Afghanistan. This was like a big movie. Two movies. Afghanistan and now a World War II set. It felt strangely like home. I remember one mission in Iraq, when we were moving into ambush and soon would successfully kill some insurgents, when it felt so incredibly eerie, as if I had done this thousands of times over thousands of years. With the birds and frogs and insects filling the night with sounds, and the firefights in the distance all around, and us moving in for the kill, it was like an eternal groundhog day, and then we killed them and went home. The soldiers did the killing and I just watched and said good job and later went to bed as if we had only gone to the movies.
In addition to the World War II veterans and re-enactors, there were dozens of U.S. active duty soldiers from the 101st and 82nd.
Many of the re-enactors seemed better versed in the history than the veterans. This would not be surprising; combat troops are so focused that they rarely have any idea of what’s happening outside of their gun sights. After war, many of them spend decades trying to forget about it. It’s not hard to find people who’ve done a couple hard tours in Iraq who don’t really know much about the bigger picture and don’t care to think about it for now.
Re-enactors.
All the gear is privately owned.
The re-enactors seemed to be having a ball.
Medic!
The local band.
When a U.S. soldier wears a patch on the right shoulder, it means a combat tour was done with that unit. The 101st liberated Eerde and so the people put on a parade and there must have been a thousand thank yous.
During the speeches and ceremonies, Dutch kids read poems to the veterans, the band played music and people recounted the Nazi times. One person said that the Nazis threatened to hang one man, one woman and one child if the train tracks were again sabotaged. The story ended there. The Dutch, who have been fighting well in Afghanistan, had adopted a stance of neutrality and pacifism in face of the Nazis and were gulped down. Some people resisted while others collaborated. The Dutch say that even today the scars caused by collaborators have not completely healed. Imagine going through life knowing you had collaborated. Better to be dead.
American paratroopers landed near the village. During the ensuing battles, Americans, British and others, with help from the Dutch underground, routed the Nazis from Holland.
DAY TWO
The veterans and university students loaded up the bus and headed to a village that Maggie and his men had parachuted near and walked into.
The dike we are on has a cornfield on one side and homes and buildings on the other. Guadelupe was coming down the way and I snapped a photo and looked at the image and said, Whoa! “Matt, what happened to your Granddad’s eye?” The automatic doors at the hotel can be tricky and Guadelupe walked into a door as it was opening, which nearly had gotten me, too. “I think he needs to go to the hospital,” I said. Guadelupe wasn’t going to roll like that. Later I told Matt that it would be easy to call a doctor and ask the doctor to come. This is the Netherlands. All is possible here. But apparently Guadelupe didn’t have time for bleeding. More on that later.
Dutch people were coming out of the woodwork to talk with the vets. We were heading to a special house and a family rolled up in several cars.
The kids had sunflowers which made the photo of the day.
Maggie received more than 25 medals, including the Distinguished Service Cross, 2 Silver Stars, 2 Bronze Stars, 2 Purple Hearts and was recommended/nominated for the Medal of Honor for actions at Herresbach, Belgium on 28 January 1945. During this important remembrance, Maggie also received a Medal of Honor from the Mayor of the City of Nijmegen.
Airborne.
U.S. Paratroopers had arrived to deliver some airmail packages to the enemy.
After the jump during World War II, Maggie came to this house. One of the Dutchmen would say today that he remembered Maggie showing up with a pistol in his hand, saying, “Where are the Germans and how many are there?”
And so the family gave Maggie an old photo of the same house with a piece of parachute from that day, and they said “Thank you for liberating us.”
They gave Maggie a photo with some important words, which were captured by a Dutch television crew. It aired that night.
A Dutch woman explained how the Nazis had taken everything they could find, even their bicycles. But Maggie said after his soldiers parachuted in, the Dutch had stuff hidden everywhere, including weapons, vehicles, motorbikes and the works. They started hauling it out to help with the fight. He said the well-organized Dutch underground was delivering the most important weapon of all: intelligence. The Dutch had been keeping close tabs on the Germans and began unloading the info, which was the key to the kingdom.
Carole Megellas is Maggie’s better half, and I realized on the first day that she is actually the commander. (No kidding.) In fact, Carole is the one who has been reading this site and getting the mailouts. We talked every day. She was always in the background but she is running the show.
A family worth fighting for. They talked about their lives and it sounded like after liberation they made the best of life and liberty.
The older ones are gone and the younger ones are old.
On the way out, some school kids were riding by with teachers. The vets and the kids were all waving at each other.
Like it was all just yesterday, fighting in these fields.
We loaded back on the bus and headed to a drop zone where re-enactors started jumping out of airplanes, including these two who collided just in front of me.
No broken bodies that time.
Barely missed the trees.
One of the C-47s had blown an engine so re-enactors, ironically, had to rent German-owned Russian biplanes for the jumps.
A parachute landed nearby.
A crowd swarmed around.
This veteran had jumped tandem. He was going to turn 90 in a few days. Actually, two veterans jumped at Overasselt. Unfortunately the other got a severe concussion and a broken shoulder.
Thousands of people had turned out, though the big jump was next morning where some people believed that maybe 50 to 100 thousand spectators showed up. While I talked with some active duty soldiers and vets, time slipped away and so did my bus. Our hotel was about 40 miles away. A policeman said the taxi might cost $300! I hitched and an elderly lady stopped immediately and drove about twenty minutes to Nijmegen Train Station. She was very friendly and happy to see the veterans come back.
In the station were European veterans in old uniforms catching trains to who knows where.
Eindhoven was about an hour away. Along the way it occurred to me that Maggie and the other veterans had jumped nearly this exact time, and maybe the corn was just like this in September 1944. Maybe they had fought through this corn as is happening now in Afghanistan.
Eindhoven.
But where is the hotel? Everywhere were veterans and re-enactors or active duty American soldiers. Some Dutch re-enactors showed the direction to the hotel.
That evening, a big parade was brewing and more veterans were arriving.
Thousands of people were assembling near Eindhoven City Hall.
The veterans took VIP seating while crowds had to stand for hours.
General Petraeus arrived and said hello to each veteran, some of whom shook his hand while others saluted. If General Petraeus had any idea of the hectic schedule that was still unfolding, he’d probably have wanted to get straight back into the war. It seemed like everyone in Holland wanted to see the vets, and despite that the old soldiers were in their eighties and nineties, they kept going and going.
There must have been hundreds of vehicles in the parade.
And there on one of the military vehicles was Guadelupe with a big bandage wrapped around his head, like he’d been shaved too close by a bullet. Most people probably thought he was just role-playing with all that gauze. As it happened, the Market Garden Committee was keeping an angel eye on the veterans and took Guadelupe to the hospital but there was a crowd in the emergency room. (How could there be a crowd in Eindhoven? Bicycle pileup?) But when the doctors realized Guadelupe was a veteran who liberated Eindhoven, they made Guadelupe the number one priority and he was first to be helped. By the time Guadelupe got his head wrapped like a mummy, the parade was started and it was hard to get through town. Some re-enactors saw Guadelupe and loaded him into a jeep and that’s where I saw him, rolling in the parade with that bandage.
So when Guadelupe got in front of General Petraeus and the Mayor, they stopped the parade and came down to check him out! Guadelupe had a huge grin on his face, which unfortunately the lens didn’t catch.
The parade kept going, on and on.
Streets full of people.
Some Scots arrived and so this is some gratuitous advertising for RAFHALTON.com.
It kept going…
Veterans of the 82nd and 101st whose forerunners had helped liberate the land.
Never forget the Red Cross.
A big screen for those who could not see up close.
Are you tired yet?
Then came the kids bearing fire.
That’s Ralph Manley holding the torch. Ralph was constantly on the radar screen. Ralph was like Maggie; if he was talking, people listened. He’s one of those men who once you meet him, you know you will never forget him. Within the first minute Ralph had handed me an Eisenhower silver dollar and proceeded with what obviously was an oft-told story about meeting General Eisenhower. There was something magic about Ralph. When Ralph was eighty-two, another vet said, he had danced three women into the ground during a remembrance. And so there he is up front and he’d somehow gotten hold of a torch.
It seemed like a matter of time until someone was set ablaze.
Dutch Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts marched by.
The parade finally ended. It seemed to last all night but probably was only a couple hours, depending on when you started and stopped the clock.
Turns out, Ralph was carrying the torch to light the eternal flame.
Moments of silence under the glow of the flame. Over the days, Ralph always radiated a powerful ambience when he saluted the flag or sang the National Anthem.
More honors are rendered.
These signs were all around, thanking the British and American soldiers.
After an exhausting day, some of the eighty- and ninety-plus-year-old veterans actually went out for a beer, while people danced in the streets to the Scottish bagpipes.
DAY THREE
Americans have a habit of making a first visit to Holland by parachuting in. Next morning was a big jump as members of the 101st and 82nd Airborne did the same. Nobody knows how many people attended but some say it was maybe fifty or a hundred thousand spectators.
Later that afternoon, the bus headed to the “U.S. Army Garrison Schinnen,” where there was a party and barbeque along with a live band.
Re-enactors were there with these signs. More reminders of Afghanistan. “Roadside bombs” are nothing new to warfare. The Iraqis did not invent IEDs. Similar bombs were used during World War II.
More Afghanistan reminders.
There were U.S. Civil War re-enactors. Many Germans are involved in reenacting our Civil War, and though they are not permitted to re-enact World War II in the Netherlands, some actors talked about Germans who reenact entire battles in the United Kingdom.
There were Dutch soldiers present who had fought in Urozgan Province and every one of them wanted to return to Afghanistan. Every Dutch Afghan veteran I have met—whether that be in Borneo, Afghanistan, UAE or the Netherlands—all want to return to combat in Urozgan.
The students often lined-up with the veterans for a photo.
DAY FOUR
We loaded the bus and rallied somewhere—by now there had been so many events (not all described herein) that time had melted into goo and I often didn’t know where we were. Some German veterans arrived and we spoke at length in German. One had been a POW in Colorado picking potatoes and said his treatment had been very good and honorable, a story oft-repeated.
We loaded onto the bus and headed to the Waal River, where Maggie and others had crossed under heavy, direct German fire. The crossing seemed suicidal. Today the Dutch people had set up a giant monitor and two viewing sections where veterans would again be honored.
More veterans joined in.
Bus after bus arrived next to the Waal River.
Still more veterans.
Captain Will Garrison, a veteran of Iraq and Afghanistan, had driven in from Germany.
Guadelupe unraveled the mummy bandage and was sporting his shiner. Asked if it hurt, Guadelupe said he used to box in the Army and didn’t feel normal unless he had a black eye.
Again the ceremonies last hours and again the best part was the kids.
That’s the Waal River in the background. This photo is taken from the viewing area as veterans again cross the river. In order to secure the nearby bridge to keep pursuing the retreating Germans, Maggie and his men were tasked to cross the river and attack across this open space and secure the bridge that was loaded with explosives. Please make sure to watch this movie trailer: A Bridge Too Far.
The movie “A Bridge Too Far” includes a reenactment of the Waal River Crossing.
America lost 47 men during The Crossing.
And so they crossed again, and were greeted by Dutch and American soldiers and lots of cameras.
Maggie, who had made the crossing then and today, said the government of the Netherlands will soon build a new bridge. This sign will mark the bridge that will be called The Crossing (De Oversteek).
The ceremonies continued with more talks and the names of the fallen were remembered and flowers were placed.
Veterans and General Petraeus gave inspiring talks.
This veteran had everyone rolling with laughter at his stories.
Maggie could probably talk for two days without a note. After maybe thirty minutes, a note was slipped to him that Queen Beatrice was waiting to meet him. He needed to cut it short, but Maggie said she could wait and everyone kind of laughed because he was not really joking, but then after some more minutes Maggie cut it short. At ninety-two and with all Maggie has lived through, he was having a say.
When he finished, General Petraeus and the rest high-stepped it over to see Queen Beatrice and Prince Philip. Some folks said Queen Elizabeth was coming.
Maggie, General Petraeus and crew where whisked off to the Royalty while we Commoners loaded into the long line of buses.
When we arrived to downtown Nijmegen, another big parade was looming. Folks who had joined my Twitter page and kept getting Tweets that the Dutch were treating our veterans like rock stars and Royalty can now see there was no exaggeration. British soldiers from the Nijmegen Company of the famous Grenadier Guards marched in. Today they were in Nijmegen, but by the time this is published these British soldiers will be arriving in Afghanistan. God bless them. Many of these soldiers will not come back alive. The only thing assured is that they will fight well.
Grenadier Guards.
Though ceremonies were all over the news, this was a non-commercial remembrance. In fact, I sensed that it was taboo in Holland to attempt to profit from this remembrance. Nobody was around selling hotdogs and hawking t-shirts. We were given shirts and hats and accommodations of all sorts. Free food, free soft-drinks, beers, coffees, whatever.
The Grenadier Guards saluted Queen Beatrice of the Netherlands and Prince Philip from the United Kingdom. Queen Elizabeth did not arrive.
Queen Beatrice must have been about the safest woman on the planet. She was surrounded by British, Dutch, and American soldiers, gobs of whom are combat veterans and no strangers to drama, not to mention the old veterans who still have fight in them.
Prince Philip.
The people seemed very fond of Queen Beatrice. Someone said she chatted thirty minutes with Maggie.
National Anthems were played.
Ralph, with that look on his face, was singing the National Anthem.
This Army soldier had parachuted in.
The Polish Ambassador and others placed wreaths.
The Canadian defense attaché placed a wreath.
As did several others.
Germans were welcomed and also remembered.
Again, the highlight was the kids who read poems.
And then another parade including driving safety violations too numerous to count.
The kids were having a time.
Veterans huddled like normal.
Of course there was another group photo.
Now do you believe that Dutch people treat our veterans like rock stars and Royalty? Are you tired? Is this dispatch too long? But wait. It’s not over yet.
Conversation with General Petraeus
After all that and lots more, the bus took us to a reception at the town hall where food and drinks were served and there were loads of soldiers, including Brits who were about to head over to Afghanistan. Some German veterans were there and Americans pulled around them for translated accounts. One Panzer veteran said his outfit was the best in the world, even better than Patton’s that had beaten them. He must have been ninety years old but he was drinking beer and showing an American veteran of the similar age how to prost, German Army style. He said that for decades it had been “streng verboten” (Strongly Forbidden) in Deutschland to talk about war experiences, and especially not so in any proud light.
Time and conversations melted by until there was a tap on the shoulder, asking if I wanted to talk with General Petraeus. We were staying at the same hotel but I wasn’t going to bug him; there was too much going on. But the tap on the shoulder was opportunity knocking, and soon I walked upstairs where General Petraeus had a little command center, where he was running CENTCOM.
I asked General Petraeus about his dad, and he said his dad was a Dutch ship captain and was at sea when the Germans invaded Holland. And so he sailed to New York and there eventually met his American mom. (Touchdown for the United States.) His dad joined the Merchant Marines, who suffered more casualties per capita than any other service during the war. I asked General Petraeus what he thought about all these incredible remembrance ceremonies, and he talked about the Margraten Cemetery, saying a Dutch family had adopted every single grave. General Petraeus was struck by the Dutch gratitude and talked about it for some minutes, saying in part, “This is a country that makes an enormous effort to remember and honor those who liberated them.” “Symbolically,” he said, “in saving a bridge, we strengthened enormously a bridge between two countries. That relationship is exceptional.” “I am struck by the sheer sacrifice that was made,” he said, “Just the river crossing, there are 47 names on that plaque.” General Petraeus had long-commanded the 101st, including in combat in Iraq, and had briefly been acting commander of the 82nd, the two principal divisions being honored today.
General Petreaus recounted working with the Dutch in the Cold War, Haiti, Bosnia, Iraq and Afghanistan, and now on counter-piracy efforts off of Africa, saying of Holland, “This is a country that punches above its weight class.”
On Afghanistan, I brought up the severe shortage of helicopters, saying this shortage is hampering our ability to fight, and at one point I said, “But I am talking to the choir,” to which General Petraeus answered, “Yes you are.” He said we had doubled our helicopters in the last four months and that we are about to add a couple more “fistfuls.” I asked how many we have and how many we need but he would not go there, which was understandable but it doesn’t hurt to ask. I told him about the pathetic helicopter debacle unfolding with the British and mentioned that the British MoD had recently kicked me out, apparently for reporting the helicopter debacle. The MoD screams bloody murder at papercuts, I said.
General Petraeus said that he watches the helicopter and other statistics very closely (and I know they do, having sat in on many briefings at lower levels), he said, “What we watch very closely is medevac—I specifically watch that closely,” and he said “average medevac time is about 50 minutes.” I told General Petraeus about the U.S. Air Force Pedros, saying they are beating the clock and doing stellar work, which brought a smile to the General’s face.
(General Petraeus’s words are a fact when it comes to U.S. medevac. But I am very uncomfortable if our soldiers operate in areas that are not covered by U.S. or British medevac; I am not confident in some of the other partners’ willingness or ability to go into crucial situations. For example, one U.S. captain told me about a U.S. soldier who died because a non-U.S. non-British partner failed to extract him in time. I continue to hear similar reports from U.S. officers and NCOs. I did not ask General Petraeus about this but should have. Our folks need an American or British medevac umbrella.)
Questioned about national commitments of various countries, the General wasn’t going to touch that for obvious reasons, but again it doesn’t hurt to ask.
I asked General Petraeus about troop levels and he said he was waiting for General McChrystal’s report. General Petraeus said he had not yet seen the report but that it should be out in a couple of weeks. (Hours later the “big memo” was leaked by the Washington Post, which I first heard about the next day from General Petraeus.)
I’m as confident in General Petraeus today as back in January 2007 when we were on the brink of losing the war in Iraq. Afghanistan is looking like Humpty Dumpty, though.
DAY FIVE
The next morning, Maggie and General Petraeus were scheduled to give a Freedom Lecture at a local university. Word had come that protestors of some species or another were using SMS and emails trying to make a “flash protest,” to yell about something. It was unclear what they were going to protest. Some guy had run out in protest at one of the parades, in front of the stands where General Petraeus was standing, and everybody just laughed at the guy. I didn’t even bother to make a photo. Apparently sensing he did not have any popular support, the guy disappeared and the cops didn’t seem to bother going after him. (Maybe they did, but I didn’t see.) If any protestors arrived today, they remained invisible.
Before the talks began, distinguished folks talked by the stage. The man behind General Petraeus who is shaking hands with Maggie is Captain Marco Kroon. Alex Omhof told me that Cpt Kroon resisted coming today because he is uncomfortable with all the attention. He would rather be back in Afghanistan, but was in essence ordered to come. Captain Kroon had been awarded the Dutch Medal of Honor for his actions in Urozgan Province, Afghanistan. Alex Omhof would later write me,
“Regarding CPT Marco Kroon, he didn't want to receive the Dutch Medal of honor because he wanted that his buddies who he fought with should have been honored too. Maggie had met Marco before during and after the Dutch Medal of Honor ceremony. The Dutch MOD had flown [Maggie] over for this ceremony because Maggie received the Dutch Medal of Honor on behalf of the 82d Airborne Division in 1945. He was hereby the first American to be decorated by the Dutch Government.”
The speeches began and when Maggie got there, he went for maybe an hour without a single note.
General Petraeus, of course, brought PowerPoint and a laser pointer, as do U.S. Commanders. He talked about the challenges of the CENTCOM AOR (Area of Responsibility) and focused some time on Iraq. Progress is unfolding in Iraq and despite the problems, progress is undeniable.
Examining the graph closely, violence was at an all-time high in about June 2007, right when I reported on the Hugh Hewitt radio show that the Surge was working. Needless to say, a lot of people said that was crazy. (Just look at that graph!) During a more recent interview with Hugh, we remembered that interview in 2007. But look what started to happen in July. When I was reporting the growing civil war in 2005, the civil war was not yet showing itself in the statistics but I could feel it growing. By 2006, Iraq was starting to burn down, but by June 2007 the Surge obviously was working even though Iraq was mad with violence at that time.
In this type of war, as with Afghanistan, the statistics lag behind the realities. This month’s statistics are ancient news even though the events that underpin the graphs just occurred. A witness must be on the ground and know what to look and listen for, and be willing to disregard what the crowd is saying (unless they are right). The witness must be politically tone-deaf.
If General Petraeus did not take the Iraq reins in early 2007, I would say there would have been maybe a 90% chance that genocide would have occurred. Of course Petraeus never said anything like that during today’s talk, nor did he tell the audience that he had taken command in late January 2007 and that by July 2007 violence began to subside. Those are the facts.
General Petraeus mentioned during the talk that the Washington Post had just released the classified message from McChrystal to the White House. The memo has since set Washington ablaze, yet the McChrystal document delivered news so old and parched that Indiana Jones might find it more useful for finding hidden treasures. That Washington finds the ideas new or shocking only shows that Washington is shot full of painkillers and can’t feel a thing. The report should have been submitted by the Commanding General in Afghanistan in 2006.
Petraeus’s talk included a description of good progress on the Pakistan side, which looked pretty doggone bad earlier this year. Back in December in Bahrain, I had put General Petraeus on the spot about Pakistan and our supply routes. His descriptions back then actually are coming true, though at the time it had been doubtful.
His descriptions about Afghanistan were accurate in fact and in tone.
Last year I said during an interview with Glenn Reynolds at Instapundit that we need tens of thousands of more troops. What is coming on the radar these last couple weeks is ancient history and in fact the war at this rate is tantamount about lost. General Petraeus did not say this, but it’s true. My instinct is that if the President does not make a quick decision to send those troops and resources, the war certainly will be lost.
General Petraeus talked about the trends. In April 2006, I told Hugh Hewitt on air that we were losing Afghanistan, and then wrote twelve dispatches that we were losing. The statistics flew in the face of the claims and, ironically, the statistics seemed to be reasonably accurate. I never disputed the statistics that appeared to shoot down the claims. The violence, or lack thereof, lags behind the causes. Violence is not the disease but a symptom that changes post facto.
Despite all that, morale remains good, and General Petraeus’s slide showing the July 4th reenlistment ceremony is an accurate reflection. We can still make success in Afghanistan, but time is just about gone.
The speeches were over and we headed to a big lunch with the veterans who liberated the Netherlands and other places.
At the lunch, General Petraeus walked over to Captain Marco Kroon, Dutch Medal of Honor recipient, and they stepped out of the main hall to a quiet spot, but I spoiled the moment for a photo. General Petraeus said, “Michael, do you know who this is?” “Yes Sir, I do,” and I snapped a photo that didn’t turn out so well.
And that was it. A remembrance during a time of war, and now it’s time to move back to the war.
