Horse Soldiers: The Extraordinary Story of a Band of US Soldiers Who Rode to Victory in Afghanistan by Doug Stanton

Author:Doug Stanton [Stanton, Doug]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scribner
Published: 2009-06-27T17:48:19+00:00

After dropping off Dean’s team, the helicopter lifted into the air and pushed about ten miles east to deliver Major Mark Mitchell and Lieutenant Colonel Bowers, and the rest of the command and control element, to Dostum’s base camp.

About 100 yards from the landing zone, Nelson and his communications officer Vern Michaels crouched behind some rocks, waited for the bird to land. They feared being mistaken for unfriendly forces lurking around the landing zone, and Nelson knew that the guys in the helicopters had a habit of shooting at anything that moved. So they stayed hidden as the aircraft lifted away. He could hear the rumble of a small, motorcycle-like engine starting. Nelson wondered what it was.

Through his night vision goggles, Nelson watched as the guys on Mitchell’s team loaded two six-wheeled motorized “buggies” with rucksacks and assorted bags of gear. The vehicles measured about the length of a midsize car. Upon inspection, they looked like big golf carts on steroids.

The green-and-yellow-painted buggies were called Gators, manufactured by the John Deere farm implement company; with their knobby six wheels and rugged frame, they could navigate trails that a truck couldn’t travel along. Max Bowers had thought to bring along the vehicles after reading the reports that Nelson and his men had trouble finding enough horses.

Mitchell was surprised to see that they had essentially landed in Dostum’s base camp, where Nelson and his team had been living. Mitchell could make out the gray smudge of Dostum’s canvas tent, staked down in the hardpan clay. Horses neighed and shifted nervously somewhere nearby.

Bordering Dostum’s tent was a crude mud wall, chest-high; Homer, Mitchell, Bowers, and the rest of the newly arrived team unrolled their sleeping bags at its base.

Mitchell figured it was an hour before sunrise and sleep seemed beside the point. He dozed off, then woke with a start. He’d been asleep several hours. He scrambled out of his sleeping bag. At that moment, Dostum strode out of his tent.

Mitchell marveled at the general’s confident stride. Mitchell had seen only a head shot of the man in a uniform. He tried to match the unflattering descriptions he’d read about Dostum with the smiling picture of hospitality standing before him.

General Dostum reached out and shook Mitchell’s hand and then introduced himself to Bowers.

With his arrival, Bowers was now Dostum’s liaison, taking over for Nelson. About this new arrangement, Nelson was disappointed. He also knew there was nothing that could change it.

Bowers, smiling and sporting a newly grown gray beard, sized up Dostum.

He had prepared for this moment. He’d even brought along a piece of the World Trade Center, a thin candy-bar-size hunk of metal, which he intended to give to Dostum and Atta, in a bid to bind them against their common enemy, Taliban and Al Qaeda soldiers.

“An honor,” said Bowers, firmly shaking Dostum’s hand.

Dostum realized he would miss Nelson’s company. He and the young American had formed a familial bond. He returned Bowers’s compliment.

“What do you want, General? What can we do for you?” Bowers asked.

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