shipped to Afghanistan. His battalion flew into Bagram Air Base near Kabul and met the Marines that they were relieving. The snipers discussed their new area of operations and exchanged stories. The outgoing Marines didn’t give Rush an exact picture of what to expect. Some of the snipers had seen a lot of action while others had seen very little, if any. None of that would matter, though, because Rush’s experience would be different from theirs, and soon he found a temporary home in the Kunar Province.
A Bump in the Night
In early 2002, Stan flew to Afghanistan. The long flight gave him time to reflect. As the team leader, he wanted his men to make it back safely. His seriousness had been the butt of many jokes, but now that combat was near, he was glad that he had paid attention during training. The brief that they had received before leaving kept playing through his mind.
We don’t know exactly how long you’re going to be there—at least six months. As far as the enemy is concerned, they’ve been fighting here their whole lives, so expect a war. They’re good, and don’t underestimate them. Don’t take anything for granted, don’t embarrass your country, and do what you have to do to win!
When the soldiers passed through Germany, they were given ammunition. Stan realized the magnitude of how close to combat he was later in flight, while gazing through the window. Gone were the bright blue ocean and green carpets below. Instead, Stan fell asleep to the sight of desert tan as far as the eye could see.
He was awakened one hour before landing. As the plane touched down, the soldiers were welcomed by U.S. Marines who had occupied the area with rows of tents and a command post building farther off. The airport had been secured by guards and concertina wire, and for the marines, the soldiers were a sight for sore eyes, symbolizing just how close they were to going home.
Within hours, the soldiers were briefed. Their new home was the Kandahar International Airport, just south of the city of Kandahar. The area was the last stronghold for the Taliban, and still a very dangerous place. Al-Qaeda had been driven to the mountains, but they still fought, using guerrilla tactics, hit-and-run style.
Afghanistan was a new world to Stan. The temperature was cold, close to 45°F, with a constant twenty- to thirty-mile-an-hour breeze during the day. At night the temperature dropped dramatically. The environment around them was worse; Stan thought he was in the Dark Ages because the area looked to be the result of a nuclear holocaust. The land was barren, especially near the airport. Hills, natural water beds known as wadis, and flat plains surrounded the airport. Though civilians were only a few hundred meters away, Stan would never come in contact with them. In fact, the only locals he would meet would be men of the Northern Alliance.
Two weeks after arriving, Stan and his partner, Justin, were sent on their first mission. The plan called for a raid on a terrorist safe house in Khost, north of Kandahar a few hours, and Stan’s team was to provide over-watch for the soldiers. They were to fly in on four CH-47 Chinook helicopters, hit the house, capture the men, and return home. But from the very beginning the mission was doomed.
On January 28, the raid force departed in the middle of the night. It was cold in the back of the bird, and Stan tried resting during the ride. Night illumination was great and the pilots could see the ground below perfectly. A few minutes passed before the door gunners tested their weapons into a dry lake bed. Stan was up front near the pilots and was crammed next to fuel bladders, which pressed against his knees. He dozed off a few times, but the sleep was temporary.
As the helicopters neared the target area, everyone was on alert. Stan found his gear and weapons, but he was not prepared for what happened next. As the pilots descended, sand, dirt, and debris were picked up by the rotors and
A Bump in the Night
In early 2002, Stan flew to Afghanistan. The long flight gave him time to reflect. As the team leader, he wanted his men to make it back safely. His seriousness had been the butt of many jokes, but now that combat was near, he was glad that he had paid attention during training. The brief that they had received before leaving kept playing through his mind.
We don’t know exactly how long you’re going to be there—at least six months. As far as the enemy is concerned, they’ve been fighting here their whole lives, so expect a war. They’re good, and don’t underestimate them. Don’t take anything for granted, don’t embarrass your country, and do what you have to do to win!
When the soldiers passed through Germany, they were given ammunition. Stan realized the magnitude of how close to combat he was later in flight, while gazing through the window. Gone were the bright blue ocean and green carpets below. Instead, Stan fell asleep to the sight of desert tan as far as the eye could see.
He was awakened one hour before landing. As the plane touched down, the soldiers were welcomed by U.S. Marines who had occupied the area with rows of tents and a command post building farther off. The airport had been secured by guards and concertina wire, and for the marines, the soldiers were a sight for sore eyes, symbolizing just how close they were to going home.
Within hours, the soldiers were briefed. Their new home was the Kandahar International Airport, just south of the city of Kandahar. The area was the last stronghold for the Taliban, and still a very dangerous place. Al-Qaeda had been driven to the mountains, but they still fought, using guerrilla tactics, hit-and-run style.
Afghanistan was a new world to Stan. The temperature was cold, close to 45°F, with a constant twenty- to thirty-mile-an-hour breeze during the day. At night the temperature dropped dramatically. The environment around them was worse; Stan thought he was in the Dark Ages because the area looked to be the result of a nuclear holocaust. The land was barren, especially near the airport. Hills, natural water beds known as wadis, and flat plains surrounded the airport. Though civilians were only a few hundred meters away, Stan would never come in contact with them. In fact, the only locals he would meet would be men of the Northern Alliance.
Two weeks after arriving, Stan and his partner, Justin, were sent on their first mission. The plan called for a raid on a terrorist safe house in Khost, north of Kandahar a few hours, and Stan’s team was to provide over-watch for the soldiers. They were to fly in on four CH-47 Chinook helicopters, hit the house, capture the men, and return home. But from the very beginning the mission was doomed.
On January 28, the raid force departed in the middle of the night. It was cold in the back of the bird, and Stan tried resting during the ride. Night illumination was great and the pilots could see the ground below perfectly. A few minutes passed before the door gunners tested their weapons into a dry lake bed. Stan was up front near the pilots and was crammed next to fuel bladders, which pressed against his knees. He dozed off a few times, but the sleep was temporary.
As the helicopters neared the target area, everyone was on alert. Stan found his gear and weapons, but he was not prepared for what happened next. As the pilots descended, sand, dirt, and debris were picked up by the rotors and
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