Afghanistan - The Forgotten War

In a ramshackle row house in New Cumberland, Pennsylvania, former Command Sergeant Major Azizullah Azizyar spooned out Afghan lamb and long rice onto plates. Around the donated dining table were his wife, his two young children, former Command Sergeant Major Pashtoon Peer Mohammad, former Master Sergeant Basira, and their friend, Matt Coburn, who had helped them all escape the chaos of Afghanistan a year ago.

When the conversation turned to the anniversary of the fall of Kabul, Azizullah and Pashtoon burst into tears, remembering all that they had lost. Azizullah’s six-year-old daughter observed the broken soldiers with her own sad brown eyes, revealing her own trauma. 

Then, reality kicked in.

Matt excused himself. He needed to return to his house, spend some time with his own family, and hopefully get some sleep. He felt complete responsibility for these three refugees and their families, but especially Basira, so much so that his own survival felt like it hinged on the fate of this young Afghan woman. Every morning at 4:30 am, for the first three months after she started her job at an auto parts warehouse business, he drove the bespectacled Basira to work because she didn’t have a driver’s license or a car. Later, he helped the three Afghans buy a used vehicle. Their transition to life in America had not been easy and was a continuous uphill battle even today.

Basira had a name for Matt, the retired Green Beret colonel. It was simply “Big Brother.” Azizullah’s children called him uncle. Both Sergeant Majors called him a friend.

Theirs was just one of the hundreds of stories other Afghans were experiencing around the world on this date. I’d met so many of them while researching my new book, Operation Pineapple Express, which I wrote for the sole reason of emotionally connecting people with our Afghan allies and the veterans who stood beside them.

The plight of the Afghans has been on my mind a lot over the last year, but this last week more than ever, so I thought it might be a good break when my family and I took a bike ride down the coast to attend an oceanside flag-lowering ceremony honoring veterans. 

Beachgoers sauntered up to the small memorial with drinks and blankets as the sun exploded over the calm Gulf of Mexico in one last gasp of pink, orange, and red radiance. 

Before the ceremony kicked off, a veteran in casual beach attire and sandals, using a portable PA system, welcomed the assembled visitors. He asked for us to remember our fallen heroes, our warriors still serving overseas, and then with a pause—he asked us to remember the people of Ukraine. 

The ceremony was beautiful and solemn. 

It ended with the playing of the Star Spangled Banner and Taps, and my family stood with the others, our hands over our hearts. 

On the bike ride back to our hotel, I fell back from the group, lost in my thoughts, pedaling in silence as the waves lapped at my tires. I thought the ceremony would be exactly the right medicine I needed, but there was still a hole in my heart. There had been no mention of the Afghan People in that ceremony. In fact, over the last year, there was no mention of the Afghan People anywhere.

No billboards. No news reports. Nothing.

I knew there were thousands of Afghans dealing with the fall of their country, some surviving each day in the US or other countries, and some still trying to make it past one more day trapped in Afghanistan.

I thought about Afghan Commandos like Azizyar, who fought to the bitter end. About another Afghan friend of mine, Nezam, who had taken a bullet through the face while warning his Green Beret Brothers of an ambush that was waiting for them. About Basira, who risked beatings by the Taliban as she passed through Taliban checkpoints. Whether they were in the U.S. trying to restart their lives or trying to resist the horrific rule of the Taliban, our Afghan allies feel very much alone.

There are so many veterans and civilians who helped Afghanistan during that twenty-year war and were helped in return. I’ve tried to bring awareness to the problems Afghans are facing. What else could I do?

As we approached the end of our bike ride, I remembered my Dad’s recent bout with stage 4 cancer. The doctors felt he wouldn’t survive. Not us, though. Not his friends and family. A "Caring Bridge" website went up immediately, and every day he was inundated with messages of hope and encouragement. He later told me that  just the simple knowledge that so many people were rooting for him gave him the courage to keep fighting. He says it saved his life. I agree with him. 

I decided to take a similar approach to the situation facing the people of Afghanistan. I would conclude all of my social media posts with #istandwithafghanistan. However, when I added this hashtag to my first post, something interesting happened. #istandwithukraine popped up as an auto-prompt.

At first, I was angry. Not because of Ukraine. I am so glad they are supported. But, just like at the memorial ceremony, #istandwithafghanistan was not a choice. I stared, blinking in disbelief at my screen, realizing just how few people had typed that phrase over the last year. Not even enough for social media platforms to finish the hashtag.

Then, I had an idea. What if we could make #istandwithafghanistan an auto-prompt on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook? What would that look like? Would it be enough to encourage Basira to keep working through her trauma here in the US? Would it be enough encouragement for those still trapped in Afghanistan to establish underground schools for girls? Would it be enough to encourage former Afghan interpreters and special operators to join the Afghan Resistance and take their country back? Would you be willing to help me do it?

I don't really know if it will work, but I’m willing to try. 

I'd be content if it just helped Nezam know that I think about him every day and that I'll always be his friend.

I believe the book Operation Pineapple Express has the potential to connect us more deeply to our Afghan brothers and sisters. I sincerely hope you'll read it and are reminded of their struggle.

More importantly, I hope you'll stand with me as #istandwithafghanistan.