The Outpost An Untold Story Of American Valor Part 29

Grissette was unaware of Martin's secret-two secrets, really. The chief mechanic at Camp Keating had a wife, Brittany, and three children, ages six, four, and two. He also had a mistress, Specialist Cashet Burks, a logistics expert with 3-61 Cav who lived at Fort Carson, Colorado. The relationship had started out as a friendship, then turned into a fling, and then grown into something deeper still. Martin and Cash had discussed his leaving his wife, but he'd never actually said he would do it. Burks told him that she'd stick with him either way. The day before Thanksgiving in 2008, Burks informed Martin that she was pregnant. He told her he didn't believe in abortion, and he'd support her in whatever decision she made. That August, she had given birth to a baby girl, Haniyah. Martin was worried about how he was going to break the news to his wife and his other children. He wasn't a particular fan of the Army; he'd joined only because he had a family to support. Now he had two.

Martin was a kindhearted jokester who loved to make people laugh. At Camp Keating, he tried to call Cashet every day. He frequently emailed her as well.

From: Vernon MartinTo: Cashet BurksSubject: wut up hey wut up? im a call in a lil bit but yea da civilian came out here to fix our s.h.i.t so its in the process. i been busy so havent been able to call u. im tired as f.u.k i do alot of s.h.i.t out here. me and my two soldiers. s.h.i.ts tiring but oh well. i cant wait to leave dis cop hopefully they move us or close dis m.o.f.o. Wut i told u bout that before is starting to come tru. im hearing it on dis end so its inevitable. Thnx for sending me sum stuff. I appreciate u doing things for me and im approaching the position financially to be able to do stuff for u lol so i will. I appreciate ur kindness and luv it. neva take it for granted so jus know that. anyway im a hit u up n a lil bit before i take a nap cuz i got a long nite ahead well luv u chat with u soon.

Among the few in whom Martin confided was Specialist Albert "Cookie" Thomas, Camp Keating's new cook. They knew each other from a deployment in South Korea two years before. The men of Camp Keating hadn't much liked their previous cook or his meager offerings, so soon after the more industrious Thomas arrived for a four-week rotation, they'd essentially kidnapped him. By making the bland foodstuffs edible, even tasty, Cookie single-handedly boosted every soldier's morale.

For Martin, Cookie was a sounding board, and they discussed his predicament over and over. Martin would never leave his wife, he said, though he was afraid she might leave him him when he told her about Cashet. Like Martin, Thomas had grown up without a father, so he understood his friend's vow that there was no way he would ever abandon any of his children. when he told her about Cashet. Like Martin, Thomas had grown up without a father, so he understood his friend's vow that there was no way he would ever abandon any of his children.

A couple of months into the deployment, a worried Lieutenant Colonel Brown tried to figure out what to do about Captain Porter. By now, Porter had strained relationships with nearly all of his subordinate leaders-Lieutenants Bundermann, Salentine, Bellamy, and Cady; First Sergeant Burton; and his XO, Lieutenant Robert Hull. To a man, they all felt they had an obligation to help out in those areas where they saw Porter as failing, but upon hearing their recommendations, he consistently told them, point blank, that he was the commander, not they.

In one incident, Hull wanted to fire mortars on locations from which the enemy had been repeatedly attacking the camp. Porter said no. "We're getting hit from there," Hull said to him. "It's a pattern we're seeing."

"People live near there," Porter replied. "They don't want to hear explosions in the middle of the night." Thought Hull, f.u.c.k that-these people are trying to kill us. Get off your a.s.s and help us figure out who these people are. But he didn't say it out loud.

As the nation headed into Labor Day weekend, McChrystal's report about the way forward in Afghanistan landed on President Obama's Resolute Resolute desk with a thud on Wednesday, September 2. The sixty-six-page doc.u.ment warned of "serious and deteriorating" conditions in the country and starkly declared that the war was "underresourced"-meaning, in other words, that McChrystal needed more troops, more funding, more intelligence support, and a vast array of other items. "Failure to gain the initiative and reverse insurgent momentum in the near term (next twelve months)-while Afghan security capacity matures-risks an outcome where defeating the insurgency is no longer possible," the report suggested. McChrystal did not specify how many troops he needed; he would separately present the president with a number of options (and a.s.sociated risks), one of which would be to send an additional forty-five thousand U.S. troops to join the sixty-two thousand already in country. A hundred and seven thousand troops would be more than triple the number in Afghanistan when President Obama put his hand on the Bible and swore to protect the nation. desk with a thud on Wednesday, September 2. The sixty-six-page doc.u.ment warned of "serious and deteriorating" conditions in the country and starkly declared that the war was "underresourced"-meaning, in other words, that McChrystal needed more troops, more funding, more intelligence support, and a vast array of other items. "Failure to gain the initiative and reverse insurgent momentum in the near term (next twelve months)-while Afghan security capacity matures-risks an outcome where defeating the insurgency is no longer possible," the report suggested. McChrystal did not specify how many troops he needed; he would separately present the president with a number of options (and a.s.sociated risks), one of which would be to send an additional forty-five thousand U.S. troops to join the sixty-two thousand already in country. A hundred and seven thousand troops would be more than triple the number in Afghanistan when President Obama put his hand on the Bible and swore to protect the nation.

The report's arrival punctuated the failure of national security adviser James Jones to help manage the president's relationship with the generals across the river in Virginia. The mistrust between the White House and the Pentagon that summer was palpable. For their part, White House officials believed that McChrystal had surrounded himself with advisers who'd decided to play the Washington game, by leaking information, chatting up reporters, and trying to curry favor with various insiders.75 To the White House, it seemed that McChrystal's men, so admiring of the modern "celebrity-general" model that Petraeus embodied (the "surge" of troops in Iraq, undertaken on his recommendation, was now widely credited with having helped rescue that war from disaster), were seeking to anoint another celebrity savior for this war. Indeed, sometimes it looked as though McChrystal and his team were engaged in two wars: one on the ground in Afghanistan, and the other, a separate war of public relations and politics, in Washington, D.C. To the White House, it seemed that McChrystal's men, so admiring of the modern "celebrity-general" model that Petraeus embodied (the "surge" of troops in Iraq, undertaken on his recommendation, was now widely credited with having helped rescue that war from disaster), were seeking to anoint another celebrity savior for this war. Indeed, sometimes it looked as though McChrystal and his team were engaged in two wars: one on the ground in Afghanistan, and the other, a separate war of public relations and politics, in Washington, D.C.

Colonel Chris Kolenda was not among this group of press whisperers, but he had become a strategic adviser to McChrystal in June. The new undersecretary of defense for policy, Michele Flournoy, had brought Kolenda into the Pentagon in February, as her adviser on counterinsurgency and her uniformed lead for the Reidel Report. When McChrystal (who had met the former 1-91 Cav squadron leader at the Pentagon) became commander in Afghanistan, he brought Kolenda with him to lead the strategic a.s.sessment and implementation strategy (the main parts of the initial a.s.sessment requested by Gates), as well as to develop counterinsurgency guidance for all of ISAF.

Kolenda was too focused on his work to pay attention to the very public signals being sent to the president by other McChrystal advisers, but they were unmistakable. On September 18, 2009, reporter Nancy Youssef of McClatchy Newspapers published a story under the headline "Military Growing Impatient with Obama on Afghanistan." Wrote Youssef: "In Kabul, some members of McChrystal's staff said they don't understand why Obama called Afghanistan a 'war of necessity' but still hasn't given them the resources they need to turn things around quickly. Three officers at the Pentagon and in Kabul told McClatchy that the McChrystal they know would resign before he'd stand behind a faltering policy that he thought would endanger his forces or the strategy. 'Yes, he'll be a good soldier, but he will only go so far,' a senior official in Kabul said. 'He'll hold his ground. He's not going to bend to political pressure.' " That official added, "Dithering is just as destructive as ten car bombs."

Dithering: this one word summed up so much of the ill will between the president and his top general in Afghanistan. But beyond those two men, it also expressed what many other military leaders thought of this president and his decision-making process. Its utterance by a McChrystal aide to a reporter, however, was the kind of insubordination that made the president's top advisers seethe. this one word summed up so much of the ill will between the president and his top general in Afghanistan. But beyond those two men, it also expressed what many other military leaders thought of this president and his decision-making process. Its utterance by a McChrystal aide to a reporter, however, was the kind of insubordination that made the president's top advisers seethe.

In September, someone leaked the general's report to Bob Woodward, and on September 20, 2009, the Washington Post Washington Post published a redacted version of it. Woodward's story was ent.i.tled "McChrystal: More Forces or 'Mission Failure.' " The leak was seen at the White House as the ultimate attempt to force the president's hand. How could this very green chief executive refuse his top general's request for more troops to fight a war that Obama himself had pledged to win? published a redacted version of it. Woodward's story was ent.i.tled "McChrystal: More Forces or 'Mission Failure.' " The leak was seen at the White House as the ultimate attempt to force the president's hand. How could this very green chief executive refuse his top general's request for more troops to fight a war that Obama himself had pledged to win?

In Kabul, McChrystal expressed frustration to Kolenda and other aides about the leaks, as well as about public characterizations of him as being ready to resign if he didn't get what he wanted. The general would subsequently dismiss the latter claim as a complete fabrication; resignation was something he had never even discussed with any of his top aides, he said. As to how Woodward had gotten his hands on a copy of the strategic a.s.sessment, McChrystal would maintain that he knew nothing about it: it hadn't come from his team, he insisted, and it was only after the report had been transmitted to Washington, D.C., that the leak had occurred-and very quickly so.

McChrystal's protests notwithstanding, senior White House officials had little doubt that the Pentagon was pushing the president. On one point, however, everyone could agree: all of this was significantly damaging to the United States' strategic interests.

Now that the Afghan presidential elections were over and the White House could a.s.sess where to go next, President Obama began holding a series of meetings with his national security team-Gates, Jones, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, and many othersto review, again, the entire Afghanistan strategy. His top aides were convinced that the president had to regain control of the decision-making process. This was just a mess.

By September, attacks had become so frequent at Camp Keating that many pilots refused to land their helicopters there at all-not at night, not during Red Illume, just... never. Some excuse was always found not to go. Moreover, though the mission at Barg-e-Matal was supposed to end just days after the July 12 air a.s.sault, U.S. troops were still there in September, and air a.s.sets continued to be diverted to a.s.sist them. The overall problem of resupplying missions got worse, with the result that the troops at Combat Outpost Keating and OP Fritsche started running even shorter on supplies. They refrained from using electricity during daylight hours and showered just once a week. They were not alone in their scarcity: the paucity of resupply missions throughout Brown's area of operations had reached a crisis point.

Eric Harder didn't like it, but he understood the pilots' reluctance to land at Keating. Helicopters were loud loud-about ten minutes before the Chinooks arrived, you could hear them coming in. Even waiting until the moon was hiding didn't make it safe enough to fly in the valley, thought Harder. The Taliban could down a bunch of choppers if they planned it right.

ISAF intended to withdraw from Barg-e-Matal at the end of September, so Brown started preparing, once again, for the opportunity to shut down Camps Keating and Lowell. General Scaparrotti had made it clear that when the U.S. troops departed from Nuristan, they couldn't leave a vacuum in their wake; there would need to be some kind of security presence, an Afghan one, to prevent the area from becoming a Taliban safe haven.

Brown had tried to host a district-wide shura meeting upon his arrival that spring, but the key leader of the Kamdesh Village shura, Abdul Rahman, was away in Pakistan. When Rahman returned that summer, Brown tried again. In July, invitations were sent out to the elders, but the RSVP's came back with regrets-the roads weren't secured, the Nuristani elders said, so they didn't feel they could risk the trip to Forward Operating Base Bostick. In August, immediately after the elections, at the start of Ramadan, Brown tried again. This time, the shura would be held at Combat Outpost Keating. The elders were receptive to the idea.

It was Brown's first shura in the Kamdesh area. "We're not going to stay here forever," he told the elders. "So we've been talking about what will be here in terms of security for you and your people after we leave." He described a plan to create a new Afghan Border Police battalion staffed by Kamdesh locals to protect the area. Brown also made a pitch for Abdul Rahman to become the district administrator for Kamdesh, but Rahman himself rejected the offer: he didn't think the police-force idea would work, he said, and he didn't want to be responsible for it. No one in Kamdesh had enough power to organize and maintain a standing force to keep them safe, he said, and the Afghan government wasn't providing them with the security they needed.

Brown left the shura dejected. He had hoped something good could come out of what seemed to be a Sisyphean process; it might mean that his men would return home safely and not in caskets. He talked about the disappointing meeting with Colonel Shamsur Rahman of the Afghan Border Police, who had good sources of intelligence in the area. How could they fill the power vacuum in preparation for the Americans' leaving? Colonel Rahman suggested that it might make sense to reach out to the long-exiled HIG leader Mullah Sadiq. Sadiq was living in Pakistan, where he'd fled after U.S. Special Forces began pursuing him, likely in 2006;76 he was considered at the time to be a high-value target to be captured or killed. But HIG's leadership had since reconsidered the group's partic.i.p.ation in the insurgency, and Colonel Kolenda and 1-91 Cav had worked on Sadiq as a possible candidate for reconciliation. he was considered at the time to be a high-value target to be captured or killed. But HIG's leadership had since reconsidered the group's partic.i.p.ation in the insurgency, and Colonel Kolenda and 1-91 Cav had worked on Sadiq as a possible candidate for reconciliation.

Mullah Sadiq in Kamdesh in the fall of 2009, a photograph given to the members 3-61 Cav as a "confidence-building measure" to show that he was back from Pakistan. (Photo courtesy of Lieutenant Colonel Brad Brown) (Photo courtesy of Lieutenant Colonel Brad Brown)

Sadiq, Colonel Rahman insisted, was not a bad guy. Born into a poor family, he had nevertheless gone to school and was relatively well educated; more important, he was extremely well respected in Kamdesh. After doing some research, Brown learned that Sadiq had actually shared information with U.S. Special Forces when they first arrived in Naray, until they got caught up in a historical grudge dating back to the 1986 murder of mujahideen leader Mohammed Anvar Amin-a feud layered atop an age-old land dispute.77 Amin's son, a well-connected contractor, blamed his father's death on Sadiq, and he was the informant who told a U.S. Special Forces team that the HIG leader was working with the Taliban and Al Qaeda, thereby causing him to be placed on the "kill/capture" list. Amin's son, a well-connected contractor, blamed his father's death on Sadiq, and he was the informant who told a U.S. Special Forces team that the HIG leader was working with the Taliban and Al Qaeda, thereby causing him to be placed on the "kill/capture" list.

After checking with his chain of command, on September 6, Brown sent a letter to Sadiq. "In previous years, the Government of the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan and International Security Forces have worked in close partnership with the shuras and elders throughout Kamdesh District," he wrote. "We would like to rebuild this friendship and return peace to Nuristan, and ask your a.s.sistance and wisdom in this effort."

He felt he needed to put the last few years in context, and to apologize for anything that Sadiq might object to, particularly as it related to Afghan casualties. He continued:

Many civilians have been injured and killed during the fighting, and I offer apologies to the Nuristani people for the bombings that hurt the innocent. We would like to provide support to the people who have suffered in the fighting, and resume development projects to improve the lives of people throughout Kamdesh. But this can only begin when leaders from all the villages work together to provide security.The Taliban, funded and resourced by criminals in Pakistan, has been able to influence and recruit the young men of Kamdesh to fight the Afghan National Army, Police, and Coalition Forces. We need a.s.sistance from leaders like you that are able to reach out and encourage the people of Kamdesh to cease the violence and oust the Taliban. We ask for your guidance in developing a plan that will improve security and development in Kamdesh. The sooner the people of Kamdesh are able to secure themselves from outside influences, the sooner Coalition Forces will be able to return to their homes and families.In order to better resolve the security problem in Kamdesh, we invite you, or a trusted a.s.sociate, to attend a shura to discuss security and cooperation. I offer you my personal protection during this meeting. We are willing to meet at the coalition base in Naray or Urmul, at the Afghan Border Police Headquarters in Barikot, the Naray District Center, or any place that is convenient for you.

He ended the letter by saying that he looked forward to working with Sadiq "to help bring peace and development to the people of Kamdesh."

Brown gave copies of the letter to Colonel Rahman and the Afghan Border Patrol commander Brigadier General Zaman, who had been a member of HIG when the mujahideen were fighting the Soviets. They said they would get it to Sadiq.

Brown hoped he hadn't just made a big mistake.

Colonel Shamsur Rahman reading Lieutenant Colonel Brad Brown's letter to Sadiq. (Photo courtesy of Lieutenant Colonel Brad Brown) (Photo courtesy of Lieutenant Colonel Brad Brown)

CHAPTER 28

Send Me

Captain Stoney Portis could have been a character straight out of one of the books written by his dad's cousin Charles Portis, author of True Grit True Grit. Lean and handsome, polite and determined, Stoney Portis was the quintessential soldier. He'd grown up in Niederwald, Texas-"Population: twenty-three," he would later quip. He had to go to the next town, Lockhart, for high school-not that Lockhart was exactly a booming metropolis.

Portis had thought he was going to take command of Black Knight Troop, and relieve Porter at the outpost, immediately after arriving in Afghanistan. But instead he was sent to Jalalabad; Colonel George felt he was needed more immediately in charge of planning missions for the 4th Special Troops Battalion, which contained an intelligence company, a signal communications company, a reconnaissance troop, and two military police companies. That was Portis's charge until August, when George drove from Forward Operating Base Fenty in Jalalabad to Forward Operating Base Finley-Shields,78 just down the road. It was only then that he told Portis it was time for him to replace Melvin Porter. just down the road. It was only then that he told Portis it was time for him to replace Melvin Porter.

Portis's father worked for Texas Parks and Wildlife and was a farmer, cattle rancher, and welder. His mother, an elementary school teacher, had died of leukemia when he was sixteen. She had taught Portis and his siblings about the importance of serving, whether through the military, teaching, or the church. Portis's brother and sister both taught high school; his brother was also a youth minister, and his sister for a time had been a missionary in Mexico. Portis's father, an Army veteran, pushed him to go to West Point first if he was going to join the Army; his experience was that officers by and large got to make the decisions, and if his son ever got put in a bad position as a soldier, he wanted him to be the one calling the shots.

Stoney graduated from West Point in 2004. Inside his West Point ring, which he wore on his ring finger next to his wedding band, was an inscription from the book of Isaiah, chapter 6, verse 8: Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Who will go for us, whom shall I send?" And I said, "Here I am. Send me!" Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Who will go for us, whom shall I send?" And I said, "Here I am. Send me!"

On August 27, 2009, Portis flew in to Forward Operating Base Bostick, where he met with various officers who briefed him on Camp Keating; Lieutenant Colonel Brown was not among them, since he was actually at at Keating at the time. Air travel in and around Kamdesh was difficult, as Portis would soon learn. On the night of September 2, 2009, he flew to Observation Post Fritsche, where he met with Lieutenant Jordan Bellamy and White Platoon. The place felt to him like an old Western outpost on the edge of Indian country, like Fort Apache-a solitary compound in the middle of nowhere. Two days later, accompanied by a patrol from White Platoon, Portis walked down from the observation post, heading for Camp Keating. Keating at the time. Air travel in and around Kamdesh was difficult, as Portis would soon learn. On the night of September 2, 2009, he flew to Observation Post Fritsche, where he met with Lieutenant Jordan Bellamy and White Platoon. The place felt to him like an old Western outpost on the edge of Indian country, like Fort Apache-a solitary compound in the middle of nowhere. Two days later, accompanied by a patrol from White Platoon, Portis walked down from the observation post, heading for Camp Keating.

In his more than ten years in the Army, this was the first time Portis ever got blisters. His whole walk down the Switchbacks, he kept thinking, If I were Taliban, I'd shoot at 'em from here and hide behind this tree and escape that way. Over and over, so many places from which to fire. It was only when they were coming down that last stretch of mountain that he first appreciated where Combat Outpost Keating was. Shocked, he could say only, "Holy s.h.i.t."

Portis didn't know about Rob Yllescas, or Tom Bostick, or Ben Keating. He'd heard their names, but he didn't know their stories. Soon he met Porter, who told him-inaccurately-that Captain Pecha, his predecessor, had stopped patrolling and never left the operations center because he believed he was going to die at Camp Keating. Awesome, Portis thought. I'm the enemy's new number-one high-value target, and I didn't even know it. Add to that the good news that the U.S. Army had placed the outpost in what he considered to be the most tactically disadvantageous terrain possible, and there weren't many reasons for Portis to be happy about his new a.s.signment.

He was, however, relatively impressed with the soldiers and his new subordinate leaders. When they needed to relieve themselves, the men of 3-61 Cav would put on full body armor just to head to the p.i.s.s-tubes, even in 100-degree heat. It was a tremendous nuisance, but they did it anyway. That said something good about their willingness to follow orders, no matter the discomfort and inconvenience. That was a good sign, Portis thought, because Black Knight Troop was living under the most austere and harsh conditions he'd ever seen.

Portis walked around the camp and got his lay of the land. When he entered the shower trailer, Kirk and Rasmussen happened to be in there, on the cusp of disrobing. With his captain's bars, in this remote locale, Porter could have been no one other than the new commander. Kirk turned to Rasmussen and said, "All right, let's get naked." He dropped his shorts and, as G.o.d made him, walked over to Portis and stuck out his hand to greet him. "You must be the new commander," he said. "I'm Sergeant Kirk."

Cla.s.sic Kirk.

Melvin Porter briefed Stoney Portis for three days, and it became clear to the new commander that the men at Camp Keating desperately needed to figure out how to build up its defenses. He'd heard the whispers, of course, that the camp could be shut down at any moment, but until that happened, he would proceed as if he and his newly a.s.signed troops were going to be there until July 2010, when they would hand the outpost over to the next company. From eye level, the camp looked generally fortified. The HESCOs were in place, and there was double- and triple-strand concertina wire enveloping the camp. There certainly were some defensive positions that Portis wanted to improve-first off, he thought, there was too much dead s.p.a.ce near the camp's entry control point of the camp. He understood, however, that there were limits to how much could be done to make the men safe. "COP Keating is practically worthless," he wrote in his journal. "It's in a bowl with high mountains all around us." There were roughly fifty troops here just trying to exist; their only mission was survival.

Almost immediately, it was evident that Portis was going to be different from Porter. For example, he had a different reaction to the incoming AK-47 and RPG fire from the Putting Green. Hearing it come in, he stepped outside the operations center and looked up with his binoculars at the northwestern mountain.

"Sir, you might want to get behind some cover," suggested "Doc" Courville.

"Yeah," Portis replied absentmindedly. He went back inside the operations center to get his radio. Lieutenant Carson Shrode was in there, on the radio with John Breeding in the mortar pit. "Hey," Portis told Shrode, "you need to put five rounds of 'Willie Pete' "-white phosphorous-"up there now."

Portis walked down the hall, and Shrode ran after him. "Did you just say you want Willie Pete at this grid?" Shrode asked.

"Yeah," Portis said. "And I want it f.u.c.king now."

"You sure?" Shrode asked. Portis was. There were no civilians at the location from which the enemy was firing, so there was no reason to hesitate.

Shrode got back on his radio and told a still-skeptical Breeding, "No, he's serious." Portis glared at Shrode, p.i.s.sed that his instructions been questioned, let alone debated, in front of other soldiers. "If Willie Pete works," he said bluntly, "use it."

There was a new sheriff in town.

Portis's aunt and uncle had heard the troops lacked even basic equipment, so they sent him a care package that included some Leatherman Multi-Tools, a device containing a knife, pliers, wire cutters, a saw, a hammer, and on and on. Portis told his three platoon leaders each to select a soldier to receive one of the Multi-Tools-someone deserving of special, if informal, recognition.

Salentine picked Specialist Chris Griffin, a member of the Sault Ste. Marie Tribe of Chippewa Indians, from Kincheloe, in the upper peninsula of Michigan. Griffin was a warrior, Salentine thought, who fought and lived with a pa.s.sion that was second to none. That pa.s.sion sometimes pushed boundaries-he and Jon Hill almost came to blows once, for instance-but if Salentine could have had ten Griffins, he'd have counted himself lucky.

Specialist Christopher Griffin. (Photo courtesy of Kerri Griffin Causley) (Photo courtesy of Kerri Griffin Causley)

Griffin was quiet and kept to himself. He smoked a lot and spent hours reading; before deploying to Iraq, he'd read the entire Quran from cover to cover. He seemed overwhelmed by the gift of the Leatherman, as if it were much more than just a hundred-dollar tool, as if he'd never received a gift before. The new commander was surprised to hear, later on, that the twenty-four-year-old had taken the time in the middle of this war zone to write his captain's aunt and uncle a thank-you note for the modest gift.

Colonel George briefed General Scaparrotti and the Afghan minister of the interior on the latest developments in his area of operations, and then he renewed his push to close down Combat Outposts Keating and Lowell. Most of the reasons McChrystal had given him for delaying these moves were no longer operative, save for his stated desire not to "get ahead of the president," which also seemed moot. Scaparrotti approved the plan: the troops at Combat Outpost Keating could start packing up on October 4.

On his first official day in charge, September 20, Portis had three tubs of ice cream flown in for his new troops to enjoy after the change-of-command ceremony: cookies-and-cream, mint chocolate chip, and pralines-and-cream. Later that day, he joined Colonel George and Lieutenant Colonel Brown at a banquet held at the base for the Muslim holiday of Eid al-Fitr; also in attendance were members of the Afghan National Police, the leaders of the ANA company stationed at Keating, and some village elders. There was a lot of friendly chatter as the men sat around a picnic table together.

"How effective is Combat Outpost Keating?" George asked the ANA commander.

"We're very effective," he said.

To Portis, this was an example of what U.S. forces referred to as "Afghan math"-a certain disconnection from reality that Afghans tended to exhibit when asked to provide honest a.s.sessments.

"How effective will Combat Outpost Keating be after we leave?" George asked.

This time, there was no disconnect: the leader of the ANA laughed. "When you leave, we'll leave," he said.

George explained that the United States wasn't going to be in Kamdesh in perpetuity, which was why it was important, he said, that the locals be able to govern themselves and provide their own security. He didn't intend to signal an imminent departure, but the locals had been watching the troops ship out sling-loads of nonessential equipment from the outpost. The conversation suggested to many of the men at the table-Americans and Afghans alike-that there was a timetable, one that was obviously already under way.

At least one U.S. officer later recalled that he was stunned to hear George share this information; he felt sure it would be pa.s.sed on to the enemy. "Anger, contempt, shock, disbelief-all emotions that ran though my mind in the following days," the officer remembered. In his view, and the view of other members of Black Knight Troop, Colonel George had just told an untrustworthy group that the Americans were leaving soon.

In his room at Fort Hood in Texas, Rick Victorino-the intel a.n.a.lyst from 6-4 Cav-frowned. He had left COP Keating four months before, but he couldn't stop thinking about his time there, and he'd programmed a Google news alert to let him know whenever the word Nuristan Nuristan appeared in a media story. appeared in a media story.

On September 22, journalists at Bagram were informed that General McChrystal had given commanders the order to begin pulling their troops from remote bases-which would reportedly include Combat Outposts Keating and Lowell. The news immediately made its way to Victorino.

s.h.i.t, they're going to be attacked, Victorino thought to himself; they're going to be overrun. He was sure that the information would be quickly rebroadcast by the Taliban to insurgents in the Kamdesh area.

The next day at work, he talked about this development with Mazzocchi and Meshkin. They all agreed: things were about to get rough for the men of Black Knight Troop, 3-61 Cav.

Portis received orders to prepare for a closure of Camp Keating; their last flight out would be on October 10. Just like that. They would have two weeks to tear the camp down. Portis called his team: "Here's the mission," he told them. "We're leaving Combat Outpost Keating."

They all rolled their eyes as if to say, The new guy doesn't understand how it works. They'd been told again and again that Camp Keating was going to be closed down, and nothing ever happened. But Portis impressed upon them that this time, it was real, and so they stayed up all night, planning the move down to the last detail. They decided they would need forty-five sorties, or trips, on Chinooks.

Portis was excited but nervous. His nerves began to fray on Monday, September 28, when he received intelligence that fighters from the Taliban and HIG had held a shura in Upper Kamdesh to try "to resolve the conflict between the two groups in order to attack the COP." A Taliban leader from the Waygal Valley had come to the shura to meet with HIG leaders. Two local officers with the Afghan National Police had also been present.

Portis sought out the recently hired Afghan National Police chief, Shamsullah (whose predecessor had quit), and told him what he had heard. Shamsullah said that the officers had gone without his knowledge, and he promised to talk to them about it. He wouldn't give Portis any details about the meeting, but he did confide that he'd heard from the locals that the outpost was closing. The level of detail the police chief had at his fingertips was stunning: at one point, he said he knew that Black Knight Troop was packing up nonessential gear "and that... we would run non-stop birds all night to backhaul and close Keating and Fritsche starting in ten days (09OCT) for a duration of several days," Portis emailed Brown later that day.

The captain was incredulous. How could Shamsullah know such specifics? Portis had not been particularly pleased when the brigade leadership suggested to the shura elders and the leaders of the ANA and Afghan police that Black Knight troops were headed for the exits, but at least that information had been vague. This was something else, and it worried him. Locally, the only ones aware of the plans were Portis's lieutenants and the officers at Forward Operating Base Bostick; the operations centers at both posts were under lock and key. But planning about the closure of Camp Keating had gone all the way up the U.S. chain of command to Kabul; somewhere along the line, someone had said too much to the wrong person.

"Do you think the Taliban and HIG have the same information?" Portis asked Shamsullah.

"Everyone knows this," said the chief.

"Do you think we're going to be attacked?" Portis asked.

"Yes," said Shamsullah. "Tomorrow."

Portis wasn't quite sure how to process this; false warnings of an imminent attack, he knew, were common. He told the police chief that there wasn't an approved plan yet for closing the camp. "We could be told to leave soon, or we could be told to leave after the winter," he fibbed. "I'll keep you informed as best I can, but currently our intentions are to winterize and fly out equipment that needs repairs."

The captain walked away from this discussion filled with anger and unease. Obviously, the Americans couldn't leave a base that they were sharing with the ANA without letting the Afghan commander know they were leaving. But Shamsullah knew an unnerving amount of information about the Americans' plans. Portis wondered if the police chief-who hailed from Mandigal, a hotbed of the local insurgency-might not be playing both sides, having his own survival foremost in his mind. Portis was planning on heading up to Observation Post Fritsche on Thursday, October 1, to check on some equipment-everything would need to be accounted for during withdrawal-and while there, he would meet with the Kamdesh shura to find out whatever he could about this report of a TalibanHIG detente.

In his email to Brown, Portis wrote that he was "concerned" that local Afghans and members of the Afghan National Police were sharing information about the evacuation of the local outposts, now being called Operation Mountain Descent. Portis's advisory came at the same time as a report that "Bad" Abdul Rahman was preparing to take Barg-e-Matal back now that 1-32 Infantry troops had withdrawn. It was not uncommon to hear that local Taliban and HIG leaders were meeting, so Portis's news didn't cause anyone to hit the panic b.u.t.ton. Since June, the squadron had also gotten numerous tips that more than a hundred fighters were about to attack one base or another, including COP Keating and FOB Bostick. Brown didn't know how seriously to take what Portis had heard. He needed more proof that this threat was real before he could do anything; without more concrete information, he couldn't credibly call in choppers to bring reinforcements. There was also the issue of the moon, which right now was at too bright a point in its illumination cycle to afford the helicopters the darkness they needed to be safe. And anyway, 3-61 Cav would be leaving the Kamdesh Village area within a couple of weeks.

Portis briefed all of his officers and senior noncommissioned officers on what he'd learned, emphasizing the importance of operational security-meaning, keeping their mouths shut. "I don't know how the f.u.c.k Shamsullah knows this, but he knows this," he said.

The troops who were primarily tasked with gathering information about potential threats to the outpost were intelligence collector Sergeant Robert Gilberto,79 intelligence a.n.a.lyst Sergeant Ryan Schulz, and, to a lesser extent, fire-support officer Lieutenant Cason Shrode. intelligence a.n.a.lyst Sergeant Ryan Schulz, and, to a lesser extent, fire-support officer Lieutenant Cason Shrode.