Four years ago, the world watched the ignominious end of 20 years of the U.S. military’s hard work and sacrifice in Afghanistan as the country fell to the Taliban. Absent any evacuation plan, Afghan allies and U.S. citizens were trapped, desperate to escape via the Kabul airport.
Nick Mitchel, a Marine who fought in Afghanistan, worried about our Afghan interpreters (or, as we called them, “terps”) who served with Americans for years. We veterans owed our lives to these men, and the Biden administration was now abandoning them to be hunted by the revenge-thirsty Taliban, forcing many of us, including Mitchel, into a new mission to save them.
Mitchel served with “James,” an excellent Afghan terp, on two combat tours. James’s English was great, and he fit in well. Mitchel left the Marines in 2012. He and James were Facebook friends, but they rarely talked. That is, until Mitchel saw the news of the Kabul disaster and sent a message, “Hey, man, are you all right?”
James was in Kabul. His Special Immigrant Visa had been approved, but paperwork hadn’t been issued, and he knew no more papers were coming from the Kabul offices.
On Aug. 16, 2021, James said to Mitchel, “Kabul is now under control of the Taliban.” The next morning, James video-called, showing his young daughter and son. James had years of experience serving with the Marines in combat. He wasn’t panicking, but Mitchel understood the message. If James’s family weren’t evacuated, the Taliban would torture James and use his children in unspeakable ways.
At the time, Mitchel had left Afghanistan behind. But James pulled him into a mission that former President Joe Biden and our government neglected. Mitchel and one of his old Marine buddies set up a group chat on Facebook Messenger, which soon included other Marines trying to find a way to save James.
Fortunately, one of the Marines they served with in Afghanistan was still serving. Gunnery Sgt. Terry Striker was on security at the airport in Kabul. He had a pocket Wi-Fi device that only worked on one location on the perimeter, giving the Marines sporadic contact with a Marine on the ground.
They sent Striker all of James’s paperwork so the Marines at the fence would know he was an approved terp. Mitchel told James to take his family through the frantic crowd to an orange-pink square ID panel on the fence.
Using Google Maps and Striker’s directions, Mitchel guided James’s family until Striker could haul them inside to safety. A smiling, thumbs-up photo of James was sent to the group chat.
All of this was done outside of regulations, with no orders and no government help. Striker risked his career to save a terp. There are higher laws, especially among those who served together in war. Those Marines couldn’t simply abandon their Afghan brother.
But the mission wasn’t over. More terps needed help. Those Marine vets worked 24 hours a day, gathering photos of terps, their families, and required documents, then guiding them to that orange-pink panel. They sent photos of the Afghans so the Marines inside the wire knew who to expect. Once they were inside, a Marine sent happy photos back to the group chat.
Thousands of frantic Afghan allies, desperate to escape Taliban revenge, swarmed the airport. Guiding the terps to the fence was difficult.
“My wife’s going to pass out. There are bodies in the canal,” one terp said to Mitchel. “My kids can’t see this. I’m turning back.”
It was 3 a.m., and Mitchel’s pregnant wife was trying to sleep. He shouted at the terp, “Keep going! If you turn back, you’re all f**ked! We’ll get you out. Do this for your family.” That terp made it, but another gave up, and nobody knows what happened to him.
“It was exhausting,” Mitchel said. They were operating a primitive system, adapting to a deadly and chaotic situation.
One terp, Omar, nearly quit when his path was blocked by the Taliban, who beat people and searched them for American paperwork.
“Find another route,” Mitchel told Omar.
Omar went radio silent for two hours. Had the Taliban captured him or killed him? Finally, he came back online.
“We’re inside the fence!” he yelled.
Omar drew a crude map of his route and loaded it into the group chat. It saved another terp and his family before the Taliban tightened security.
On Aug. 26, a suicide bombing killed at least 169 desperate Afghan civilians and 13 brave American warriors. The security posture at the airport changed, making it impossible for Nick and his fellow Marines to evacuate any more terps.
Many loyal Afghan allies were left behind in the Taliban nightmare, still struggling for safety. But James and his family built a new, safe life in America.
Mitchel’s mission during these days of the pullout from Afghanistan was hard, but it distracted him from thoughts about the waste of 20 years of fighting and about the loss of good people whose sacrifice was suddenly rendered futile.
“The last thing I did that had to do with Afghanistan was a good deed,” he said. Mitchel’s team saved 118 good Afghans, including dozens of terps who served with the U.S. military.
“At least I had that,” he said.
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Trent Reedy, author of several books, including Enduring Freedom, served as a combat engineer in the Iowa National Guard from 1999 to 2005, including a tour of duty in Afghanistan.
*Some names and call signs in this story may have been changed due to operational security or privacy concerns.