Rain of Fire: Afghan Napalm

We were attacked tonight with a barrage of 8 mortar rounds. The lead round was a 155mm white phosphorous bomb. Spectacular explosion, like a firework followed by a downpour of burning chemical. Google that shit. Contact with the skin produces second and third degree burns, and the particles continue to burn even on contact with the ground. The Geneva Treaty of 1980 prohibits the use of white phosphorous to attack civilians. This rain of fire tore through our hangar which was occupied by our civilian maintenance force. The next 7 rounds impacted nearby, peppering the flight line with blast shrapnel. We take cover, don our body armor, and wait.

It's at this point in an attack where I always wonder, WWID. What would Ike do? Pretty sure he'd annihilate all of Pul-e-alam, all of Baraki, and all these surrounding mosques which are Taliban safehouses for IED building and IDF launching. He'd erase this terrorist hotspot from the map. Ahh, but we don't fight wars like we used to. We launched no counterattack. No artillery mission. No aerial engagement. There we were, a bunch of American soldiers, huddled in dusty bunkers waiting for the 'all clear.' It doesn't feel right to respond so passively. We all looked at each other, eyes hungry, desperate to defend ourselves and our little outpost, our hands tied, our weapons safed. We listened for mass casualty calls on our radios and responded to the injured. We’re not out here fighting the war on terror. We’re out here fighting for our lives!

With Ramadan over, the summer fighting season resumes ever-passionately. For every child that waves at our passing helicopter, 20 more throw rocks. The air fills with mortars, RPGs, and small arms fire. We're trying in vain to win the hearts and minds of the people. And they shower us with napalm love.