When we go home, they stay. My Afghan friend CPT Ahmadduddin Ahmad

I lay on the ground as our Doc began to splint my right leg and put bandages on my bleeding right thigh. The sun beat down on my face as I lay grunting in pain in the ditch just meters away from where a hidden bomb underneath the earth had nearly taken my life. I clinched down with both of my hands as the splint was being applied to ease the pain. One of my hands was being held by "Bear" my friend and US Army soldier, the other was being held by CPT Ahmad my friend and Afghan platoon leader. Time seemed to spin in and out as I attempted to stay coherent as I could feel shock running through my body. I shook my head left and right, than I stopped. As I spun to my left I caught Ahmad's eyes, at first I couldn't make out his facial expression and was shocked it was him, but then it came into focus, he was crying. The medic yelled, "Let's lift him up and get him into the vehicle so he can be medevac'ed." Ahmad used his free hand to wipe his eyes, and side by side with my American Soldiers carried me into the vehicle. As I lay down his hand still gripped mine, he was the last to let go. He looked at me and in English said, "I am sorry I let this happen to you, I will miss you."

It's 6:00 Am and I am sleeping in my queen sized bed, in my downtown denver apartment, with the air conditioning set to 70 degrees, my laptop with wifi next to me, my cable tv still on from falling asleep to Sportscenter the night before. The sheets are strewn about and my phone is plugged into the wall next to me. It begins to vibrate...bzzz.bzzzz.bzzz...I wake up from my dream and think, "It's 6:00 AM why is anyone calling me right now?" I then reflect, "Man how my life has changed in 3 years." I look over at the phone and it says, "Bear", my friend and section leader from years earlier. I thought, "Hmm thats weird, I'll call him back when I get up in an hour or so." And I go back to sleep. I wake up at 7:30, walk into my personal warm shower, dry off, move to my personal sink and shave, brush my teeth. I open my walk in closet and select a tailored dress shirt and freshly dry cleaned pants, another day in corporate America, "Man how things have changed I think again." As I walk out of the apartment I shoot Bear a text apologizing for "being a dirty nasty civilian who only wakes up after 7 now." We text back and forth as I take the bus to work, and eventually I ask, "Everything ok? Ya don't usually call me at 6:00 in the morning." He wrote back, "Yeah some bad news. I know you and Ahmad were really close in Afghanistan, I just wanted to let you know he was killed last night." I felt my heart sink as I read the text and I froze on the bus for some period of time. I flashed back to the moment I last saw Ahmad and how much he cared, and the facebook conversations we had had in broken English just a month before this incident. I had lost a colleague, a warrior, and most of all I had lost a friend. 

I sat in my cubicle for the day at the office and began to attempt to do my work and reflect on the news. All I could think about is how the news is riddled with how awful Afghan soldiers are and how dire the situation is, and for the most part it is accurate. But, Ahmad was truly a different story. I fierce warrior who never wore a helmet outside the base because in his words, "The Taliban will fear me more." There are stories all over the 101st of a brave courageous Afghan Platoon Leader who countless amounts of times risked his life to save US Soldiers and to fight for his country's freedom, those stories are of CPT Ahmad. It is easy for the brain to dehumanize and prioritize life when placed in dire situations, situations that war puts you in. However, today I am reminded that when we leave the battlefield and go back to our downtown apartments, wifi and air conditioning the Afghan Soldiers we fought next to, we bled with, remain. Fighting for freedom and independence from a ruthless, faceless, uniform less enemy until they can fight no more. It makes me appreciate their courage, and it makes me appreciate the small things we take for granted in our daily lives back here in America. I will never forget you Ahmad and I am sorry I wasn't there to fight beside you in your last moments.