Alexander, the Great’s soldiers, were formed and ready to combat the ragtag fighters who had plagued his army for months. Everything was in place as Alexander’s army stood at the south end of the Tal Bez Valley, prepared to end the Afghani insurrection. His calvary would fan out from the narrow entrance, cover the soldier’s flanks, and scout for the enemy. A column of four ranks, hundreds of soldiers deep, would march into the valley. They would follow a narrow dirt path through the length of the long narrow plain. The trail led north into the hills and mountains beyond.
For months Afghani insurgents had harassed and looted the Greek King's supply lines. He'd had enough.
In the weeks preceding the Tal Bez, Greek troops fought running battles with the Afghanis. The insurgents slipped away every time the Greeks closed on them. Alexander wanted a pitched battle, so his disciplined and experienced troops could destroy the Afghani forces. The Afghani troops knew Alexander’s desires and chose not to cooperate. But, it was of little concern one way or another his victorious soldiers, who had campaigned across half the known world, would destroy the Afghani’s will and take their lives.
His troops maneuvered the Afghani retreat to the north into the Tal Bez Valley, identified by his scouts with only one entrance, the rest of the valley surrounded by steep and rough hills and mountains beyond. A perfect place. With no way to retreat, the Afghani’s would be slaughtered, and Alexander could continue his conquest of the world. Sunrise would witness the final battle with these rugged farmers and hillmen.
Allegedly.
Twenty-four hundred years later, Mike wasn't so sure. But, the village elders in Nary, the closest town to the valley, were positive of it. They believed Alexander suffered a significant defeat in the Tal Bez. The Elders said their distant relatives baited Alexander's Army into the valley. The Greeks followed the Afghani warriors into the valley and attacked. Once the battle began, the rest of the Afghanis charged out of the hills. His Army surrounded by warriors and the Hindu Kush the Greeks fought in the only direction they could, north. Cut off from retreat and unable to maneuver his large army in the restricted terrain, Alexander’s men huddled together in defense for a week. At the same time, another age-old combatant harried the Greeks, disease. They awoke on the last day to discover the Afghanis had disappeared. The only remaining Afghani’s were the dead and wounded and the spies in the hills to keep watch on the Greeks. Demoralized, sick, and hungry, Alexander’s men wearily marched out of the Tal Bez, Afghanis in the hills above, raining insults down on his defeated troops.
Word of the Great Afghani victory and Alexander's army’s retreat spread far and wide, the tale passed down from father to son for generations. Of course, these same elders also told Mike there was a pit of death somewhere in the valley. Oh, and you won't be able to find it. Time's flow covered the pit many centuries ago. Regardless, they were adamant. Anyone who happened near it became infected with a hideous disease and died shortly afterward. And they infected others who also died quickly and horribly. It made Mike grin. Unverifiable rumors always made for the best stories. It also made for some historical perspective, except for the last part. His Team of Special Forces soldiers was ready to do what Alexander's men couldn't.
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His Team wasn't that different from the Greek soldiers who predated them. They wore uniforms, helmets, and body armor, like the Greeks. The weapons had changed. The tactics, mounted or dismounted, had changed. His Team had technological advances, but things weren’t that different. They had to maneuver against and fight the enemy. And, here they were, ready to enter the Tal Bez to fight Afghani farmers/soldiers as Alexander’s army did. This war wasn't much different from all the previous ones this country had suffered. The Greeks, the British, the Russians, Mike was sure there were others who’d made the disastrous decision to fight here. For whatever reason, this desolate land was coveted, and despite the invaders' skill, technology, and persistence, they always ended up marching away. Mike had once heard of Afghanistan as being, The Graveyard of Empires. After each of his Afghanistan deployments, the undeniable truth was further reinforced. There was no reason to believe it wouldn't end any other way, the U.S. would tire of the unending fighting and leave. The Afghanis would rejoice and soon go back to fighting among themselves.
None of it mattered, not to the politicians, not to the generals it would be inconvenient, and they would move on to the next emergency. It didn’t matter to his Team, either. They had a job to do and would do it to the best of their ability. They were there to do one thing, fight the bad guys, and the Tal Bez was where the enemy was.
At dinner time, years from now, he might tell the story of how he stood on the same ground as the famous Greek. But, today, Mike, his three gun trucks, and ten soldiers were going into the Tal Bez to do battle with this generation of Afghani guerrilla fighters.
Only one thing, one unique thing about this mission, made it noteworthy for Mike, Gunnery Sergeant Paul Mason, Mike's brother. Paul and his Marine Infantry Company waited in the hills around the valley, ready to support Mike’s Team.
There had always been a good-natured rivalry between the brothers, Army and Marine, who was the best.
The Marine gung-ho culture was strong among its jarheads while not a thing for Army doggies. A point Paul would always voice at any moment when the two got together. Mike smiled. He couldn't remember a time when the subject didn't come up. Quite often, alcohol was somehow involved in the mix. This day would be the first opportunity they'd ever got the chance to work together. There was a lot of inter-service pride on the line, and of course, there was something extra about finally working together. Mike’s time at the tip of the spear was almost over, he’d get out of the service and do something else, now was the right time. After this insignificant battle, he and Paul would fight their country’s enemy together and win.
Everyone else on the Team was more than ten years his junior. In fact, he was the only one of them to have grey in his beard. Grey would have stuck out from his helmet if he hadn't shaved his head. Before this mission kicked off, Mike told himself this was his last deployment. In some respects, it was a young man's game. They all kept fit even in Afghanistan. They ran, lifted weights, and did calisthenics. Special Forces was a demanding occupation. Everyone knew that extreme amounts of physical hardship would be the norm. They all felt it. But Mike found the altitude and heat had a much more burdensome effect on him than the others. Back at Fort Bragg, he always pushed himself. In Afghanistan, he became fanatical about his physical preparedness. He’d always done everything he could to be in top physical condition. But it didn't matter how hard he pushed himself. The young bucks on the Team continued to creep up on him. A few of his top guys were faster and stronger than him, which hurt his ego a little. He would never admit it to them. His body slowing down almost felt like a failure, and there was nothing he could do about it. It's hard to be at the apex looking down and suddenly realizing that you were now looking up no matter what you did.