AFGHANISTAN. Mian Poshteh, Helmand. 2009. Marines advance on a small compound of houses during a firefight with the Taliban. The Marines
had been patrolling, and as they moved west of their outpost, a farmer warned them not to
continue; there were Taliban lying in wait in the tree line ahead. The commander acknowledged
the warning but kept moving forward. They entered a newly irrigated cornfield, and stepped
clumsily to escape the mud sucking at their boots. The air steamed with water evaporating in the
120-degree heat. All at once the air was ripped by heavy gunfire and exploding rocket-propelled
grenades. The Marines crawled to a ditch and returned fire. A villager caught in the crossfire
huddled with them, his teeth bared in a grimace. The troops couldn’t see the enemy, so they just
shot in the general direction of the incoming fire. Two Cobra attack helicopters were called in,
firing rockets at the suspected Taliban position as the Americans whooped. They advanced and
kept firing, though the incoming rounds had stopped more than a half hour earlier. The Taliban
usually hit and run, rarely opting for sustained battles against the overwhelming firepower of the
Coalition forces. Eventually the lieutenant shouted to cease fire. A local man slowly walked out
of a hamlet of houses and told the Marines he wanted to check on his sheep. He walked up the
road with the Marines and found their corpses scattered across the road. The commander told
him to file a claim at the base the next day.