I sat and had a hot breakfast this morning for the first time in 9 days. Cpt. Lonsdale, a Washinton State Army National Guard ETT had said to me before I returned to the base near Qalat that he loved the omelets to order; it was something you noticed after working for days and weeks in the remote forward operating bases (FOBs) where you live without running water and electricity, and bathe with baby wipes. In honor of him and his ETT counterpart, SSG Blake, I had an omelet this morning, and sat quietly considering how much we have, and how much we take for granted.

In the background, while I ate, CNN played on the television. One of the headliners was the story of an African-American congress women who is claiming racial harassment for being searched by a Capital guard because she did not have her official ID. She is out of reach of the law, able to use her political influence to sway the argument away from her responsibility and place it back on the Capital guard for doing his job. She should try walking through one of the many military check points here without ID, especially one run by the Afghan National Army or Afghan National Police. She might find that her arrogance and political band standing would be met with the end of a gun barrel and the distinct sound of a the bolt slamming forward as a round chambers into the weapon. We all have responsibilities, and in this day in age, some of those inconvenience us. What we fail to understand is that while we must remain vigilant in protecting our individual freedoms, we must also accept that things since 9-11 have changed; as has our world.

There is so much going on here in Afghanistan that is outside the news and view of our public. The modern military is as much diplomat and ambassador as war fighter. Efforts are continually made to respect all aspects of this tribal culture; at times at the risk of US troops. Our media seems always to conveniently overlook that, and as a public we seem to accept the crap that is pumped to us as absolute truths. I have never been more proud to be a citizen of the United States. The world looks to us as a example of ideals to aspire to while we play our political games back home and cower under a self-burdened doubt of our place in the world. It's sad. Whatever happened to that spirit that built the foundations on which we now find difficulty in establishing a firm footing.

Perhaps we have been given too much for too little. I have quoted John F. Kennedy before, and at the risk of sounding cliche, will do so again, "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country." It's a simple guideline that places our self-serving desires second, and our need for the common betterment of the group first. Yet we fear such ideas, as the political spin doctors try to twist such statements into images of socialism or the evils of a communist state. The words of our past and fallen President are neither, but rather words that echo the values and principles that allowed our country and its people to rise to that place of the ideal that so many admire.

This is not to say that we are not in a challenging, even rocky period in our history. Again, political agendas have over-shadowed the great work that is being executed, epecially by the men and women of our Armed forces; politicians know little of "ground truth," with too many of them focussed on the voices of special interests, campaign funds, and their desire to extend their political career. The voice of America gets pushed aside amongst the arguments and Warhol moments of our political stewards, leaving us to question ourselves and our place in the modern world arena.

That awareness pushes me each day, as I struggle with the message I send home. It is a balance of the breaking news and the need to portray a fair and balanced picture. In a letter earlier today to my mentor, David Leeson, I realized that I approach this story outside of the conventions of journalism. I have a degree in History, and until this morning, I never realized how important that schooling was. For what is reported and written each day, is part of our history and stands as documentation from which future generations might benefit and learn. Stories should never be about impulse, but considered carefully. Words and images are powerful tools, that move us, shape us, and teach us, if handled properly. They are also tools that can be manipulated in ways that make them as dangerous as any weapon and technology that we possess.

Yet our media and politicians are consumed with Iraq, leaving Afghanistan on the side of the road like a discarded bag of trash. The war that was the original war on terror, a war that has been sanctioned by the UN and supported by NATO and the international community, again and again falls under the others shadow. Even the training at Camp Shelby, Mississippi, where we lived for two and a half months, has proved of little value, since the focus was again on the tactics and lessons of Iraq. Irrespective of the regional proximity of Iraq to Afghanistan, the two countries and the two campaigns are not the same. Afghanistan sadly has become a forgotten war, where heros rise daily, but go unnoticed. Most soldiers here accept that, yet they carry on undeterred.

So what is my message home? It's a hope that we will not walk away from a process here in Afghanistan that we have begun; that we will not turn our back on a culture that desires to be our ally, that needs our help, and needs our patience. This is a tribal society, it is a country that is pre-third world, but a country that has a rising hope of unity and stability. This is a war and a campaign that we can win. The question is whether we as a public back in the United States can accept that it will take time. It is not unlike raising a child, and as with any fatherly position, that job is not a whimsical affair. It is a commitment to the future and a willingness to stay the course. If we cower and run, if we curl up in a fetal ball with the covers over our head, we not only turn our back on these people, we turn our back on ourselves as well as the men and women that have risked their lives for a cause they feel is just.

On Friday morning, following three nights of attacks, Cpt. Lonsdale and I were sharing a cup of coffee. We were reflecting on the state of things, both in the FOB and back home. We talked of how different the realities were, how the US public is so isolated from the challenges that these soldiers live daily. I thought of the unity of mission, how soldiers put aside differences of race and religion to work together cohesively; they don't have a choice. My thoughts then drifted to the night before, when an RPG round nearly hit the sandbagged observation point that Cpt, Lonsdale and I shared. As he reached to hang his harness on the wall, he looked at me and said, "The world becomes a different place when you discover that the monsters you dreamed that lived under your bed, are real."

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Copyright, Scott Kesterson- 2006

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