From Afghanistan

Fifteen thousand eight hundred and forty feet is the estimated length a village would go to in order to get its Humanitarian Assistance or HA, in the snow. I should rephrase that, that is how far twelve men will shovel deep snow so our vehicles could pass to get to their village. We found out that day exactly how desperately a village would struggle to save itself. That averages about one thousand three hundred and twenty feet per man to shovel. Ironically, we can't even get our kids back in the U.S to shovel ten feet from the porch to our cars on a good day, without them trying to barter for a favor in return.

On our way out for another HA distribution, our overweight vehicles became stuck more often than not in the deep snow. The decision had to be made four hours into the mission, should we proceed and find a way forward or should we pack it in and try again on another day, hoping the snow would have melted a little by that time. It had become apparent that with us being so far off the main road and the snow covering the dirt trails, there was no way we could make it to the village. The only option left had us trying to back track and hope we could make it back to a path that would lead us to the only paved road in our region. The Humanitarian Assistance would have to wait for another day.

The Chief of Police was all for continuing forward - knowing that with the snow that had already fallen and with the impending weather, the village needed this aid more now than ever. We had already been forced to delay the trip three different times due to circumstances and the weather. But today was a different day and we set out with hopes of our vehicles besting Mother Nature. Regrettably, Mother Nature proved to be a greater adversary than we expected and she had the upper hand over our heavy vehicles.

A soldier's inner child can been seen in the darkest of times, even when you're shoveling your vehicle out and someone throws a snowball at the Major in charge. This initiates an all out snowball fight, the likes of which hasn't been seen since you were ten and you were out of school on a snow day. Soldiers on a whole will try to lighten the mood of any situation, because we are all in the same situation and misery knows no rank.

We did have to take a pause in our shoveling to notice a man walking his cow with a motorcycle helmet on. The best part of this oddity was he was laughing at us for getting stuck. We all agreed he was part of the dangerous bovine gang known in the region. So the snowball fight paused to watch this gang member pass and didn't continue until he was at a safe distance.

While digging ourselves out of another snow bank, it was my turn to sit in the gun turret and hold security. I noticed about eleven miles away a storm was moving and its dark clouds didn't give hope to just a sprinkle of snow. It now was going to become a race to see if we could make it approximately three miles to the town before the storm hit. We already settled into the fact that we would have to travel back in the storm, but we took our current situation, one problem at a time.

As if in answer to our prayers, I saw little black specks moving toward us, coming from the direction of the village. A closer inspection through my binoculars discovered it to be people shoveling the snow. I watched in amazement as a handful of men treaded through the snow clearing a path wide enough for two vehicles abreast. Their determination and fortitude truly was an inspiration to the whole convoy and reestablished our belief in continuing the mission.

Assessing the situation we found ourselves in a time crunch; we were trying to dig ourselves out of a snow bank, the villagers were trying to clear a path and a storm was on the way. We didn't know how the race was going to end but seeing the determined villagers we knew we wouldn't leave even if we got stuck in the snow and a storm. We already came to the conclusion the village would get their aid this day. None of us could leave now with a clear conscience, so we really didn't have any choice but to continue.

Fortunately the villagers were more accustomed to dealing with the weather and reached our vehicle just prior to us getting ourselves unstuck. We then redistributed the Humanitarian Assistance among the lighter vehicles and decided to break up into two groups. The heavier vehicles would start the trek back to the main road and the lighter vehicles would continue to the village and assure the aid went to the neediest. Once the drop was done they would retrace our tracks to make better time catching up, just prior to a rally point on the main road.

Our aid could assist, if distributed as thinly as possible, about 40 families. Hopefully they would share their own food with each one spreading the assistance to their neighbors. They know it has been a sparse winter and to survive they must come together. The problem is less about the act of sharing and more about the fact that they don't have anything to share.

Yet the villagers never give up hope and strive to make it through another season. It is in this determination that I can look at the unsurpassable odds and know if anyone can make it, these people can. They come together as a community and they know the only way to live through these hard times is by looking out for each other.

This village of about 230 people has already lost 43 men and children and 150 livestock. Of the surviving villagers, more than half are in dire need and everyone is living below the poverty level for this country. With the mortality rate being so high and the villagers enduring such hard times, it is amazing they survive at all. That they continue on is a testament to the resiliency of these people. If you ever need a second opinion you just have to look to the left and right of this village and see the deserted villages because they couldn't survive the hard times.

The people of Afghanistan have endured this winter - one of the worst seen in over thirty years. They overcome adverse conditions and find themselves in a hole a little deeper than before and the struggle to get out made that much harder. Hopefully, soon their efforts will pay off and the people of Afghanistan can return to the great country they once were. We wish it will be a safe Mecca once again where tourist and travelers will want to stop to enjoy the culture.

Imagine the choice these villagers face - shovel fifteen thousand eight hundred and forty feet or suffer numerous more deaths which could be their mother, father, sisters, brothers, daughters or sons. The choice was easy for these people and because of their choice, our decision to continue with this mission and future missions became just as easy for us. We will continue to assist these people to the best of our ability and we will continue setting the example for future missions from the lessons learned today.

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