The Outpost: An Untold Story of American Valor (91 page)

Night fell, bringing to a close October 6, 2009. Members of the QRF left first, followed by the Bastards. The last to fly out were the members of Red Platoon. Burton pushed every group to conduct head counts, over and over. He was terrified that they were going to inadvertently leave someone behind at the camp, in the dark of night, as the United States abandoned the outpost forever.

Bundermann stood on the landing zone waiting. He couldn’t leave Combat Outpost Keating soon enough. Hurry up, let’s get out of here, let’s get out of here, he said to himself.

Brown waited until the last helicopter was on the ground before he pulled the trigger and ignited the thermite grenades per the engineers’ instructions. They would have fifteen minutes before the explosion destroyed the outpost—more than enough time to clear the area. The men linked up by the shura building, then exited out the gate of Combat Outpost Keating for the last time. Everyone boarded the helicopter. Burton and Brown paused at the back deck of the bird. Each wanted to be the last soldier to leave the camp. Portis watched them, shaking his head.

“Get on the damn bird,” Burton told Brown. Brown stepped into the helicopter, and the first sergeant followed, convinced he was the last man out of Combat Outpost Keating.

But Romesha and Larson had rear security for the helicopter and had been standing next to the edge of the ramp. They waited and watched Burton enter the helicopter, then they looked at each other and stepped up on the bird at the same time—the very last to leave, just as they had wanted.

The helicopter rose and made its way down the valley. Bundermann looked out the back hatch of the bird and took in the tranquility of the mountains, and beyond them the stars. The men waited for the explosion. And waited.

It never came. Something was wrong with the timer or with the explosives.

After Brown got back to the operations center at Forward Operating Base Bostick, a B-1 bomber flew over Camp Keating and dropped several tons’ worth of bombs on it. The next day, another B-1 dropped even more. Surveillance from a Predator drone on October 8, however, indicated that structures at the outpost were still standing. Worse, the Predator captured images of fourteen insurgents trolling around the camp and removing ammunition from the ammo supply point. Another B-1 bomber was cleared to target the insurgents, but its equipment malfunctioned. Instead, the two Predator drones over the site each fired two Hellfire missiles at the fleeing Taliban. “Bad” Abdul Rahman Mustaghni and the thirteen other insurgents were obliterated, and at long last, Combat Outpost Keating was gone forever.

CHAPTER 39

Two Purple Hearts and Just One Scar

Combat Outpost Keating, after the United States bombed the camp.
(Taken from U.S. Army investigations)

A
s was standard procedure, on October 10, General McChrystal ordered an official “15-6” investigation into what had gone wrong at Camp Keating. Major General Guy Swan III was appointed as investigating officer. He gave a progress report to McChrystal on November 3 in Kabul and handed in his full findings on November 9. Swan noted that Camp Keating had had a number of serious vulnerabilities, including “insufficient overhead cover for battle positions,” an “oversized compound relative to troop strength,” and a mortar position that should have been more defensible. He faulted four officers—Brown, George, Porter, and Portis—for their “failure to improve COP Keating’s base defense and AT/FP” (that is, “antiterrorism/force protection”) “plans at the troop and squadron level.”

Porter, who had since been promoted to major, “bears the greatest responsibility,” Swan concluded. The captain had rejected recommendations for additional protection, including lumber and sandbags that were already available at the outpost. He hadn’t even let his lieutenants inspect the Claymore mines to make sure they were working, Swan noted.

Lieutenant Colonel Brad Brown “also bears significant responsibility,” Swan’s report stated. Brown was criticized for having known that the outpost was in a “precarious” position, given that he had visited it several times, beginning with his attendance at the memorial service for Captain Yllescas. Moreover, Brown knew that Porter “was not a strong leader,” so he should have been more sensitive and paid more attention to security plans at Combat Outpost Keating.

In addition, Swan faulted Captain Stoney Portis, who had assumed command of the outpost less than two weeks before the attack, for the fact that “he made no significant improvements in force protection.” Portis had increased the amount of time that troops were on “stand-to” guard duty, but he hadn’t added patrols, checked the Claymore mines, assigned extra personnel to “stand-to” battle positions, or switched up response patterns or battle drills.

Finally, Swan faulted Colonel George, because as brigade commander, he bore overall responsibility, and having visited the outpost twice, he also knew firsthand of the outpost’s vulnerabilities.

Swan volunteered a recommendation that the “obviously indefensible or high risk COPs and OPs” should be closed. Brown had briefed McChrystal on brigade plans to shut down Combat Outposts Keating and Lowell as well as Observation Post Fritsche, the report acknowledged, but a number of other pressing matters had interrupted those plans, including the Afghan elections, the siege at Barg-e-Matal, and the search for MIA soldier Bowe Bergdahl. Moreover, according to Swan, the plan to abandon Combat Outpost Keating had itself “inadvertently undermined the focus on current base defense and preparedness.” Troops “were unclear, even confused, about their mission for anything beyond ‘defending the COP.’ ” Furthermore, Swan declared, the base was undermanned.

Brown was furious when he read the report.
Every
base in his area of operations was undermanned. Between them, Combat Outpost Keating and Observation Post Fritsche had had three out of the ten platoons total in the squadron—and those ten had been fashioned out of an original eight, so that their troops were already stretched thin. Combat Outpost Lowell had two platoons. Observation Post Mace and Observation Post Bari Alai had only one each. Swan had asked Brown why he hadn’t repositioned more forces to Combat Outpost Keating, and Brown had explained that as it was, the rest of the squadron had barely enough troops to defend itself and keep the road open. Swan told him he should have asked Colonel George for more men, but George knew how thin they were, he was aware that every unit had the same problem—that was precisely
why
they had worked so hard to close the small outposts. But Swan hadn’t been tasked with looking at the larger problems of Regional Command, or of Afghanistan as a whole. He was focused solely on Combat Outpost Keating. That had been his order.

On December 27, 2009, McChrystal determined that there was a need for him to issue a “memorandum for the record” stating the obvious: many of the decisive factors identified in the investigation as having contributed to the attack on COP Keating were the fault of people far above the colonel, lieutenant colonel, and two captains—namely, himself and other generals. The Army assessed the value of the loss of Combat Outpost Keating at $6.2 million, including LRASs, radios, machine guns, Humvees, and night-vision goggles.

In a letter acknowledging his formal reprimand, Brown, on January 2, 2010, wrote that while he felt “a sense of personal accountability for every soldier killed or wounded in this unit, and most acutely those who died on 3 October,” there were other factors that the Army needed to consider.

He had long tried to close Combat Outpost Keating, he noted, believing that it “and the other isolated outposts in Kamdesh District served little functional purpose in the counterinsurgency effort, exacerbated ethnic and tribal tensions to the advantage of the insurgency, and placed a majority of the squadron’s resources in tactically untenable positions.”

As to Porter’s failures as commander, Brown admitted that he had been “aware of the leadership issues at COP Keating, and had asked and received approval” from Colonel George “to change command of that troop ninety days after their arrival in theater.” After October 3, Brown had learned that instead of complaining to him about problems at the outpost, including serious concerns about force protection, the troops had decided instead to wait for their new commander, Stoney Portis, to arrive and resolve the issues.

“Leadership issues” notwithstanding, Brown didn’t think the heaps of criticism being flung at Porter were fair. Could Combat Outpost Keating have been better fortified? Sure, Brown concluded, but it wasn’t as if any of them could have done anything to change the fact that the outpost was located at the bottom of a valley surrounded by three steep mountains teeming with enemy fighters. Soldiers under Porter—and generals above him—were looking to blame someone, and while Porter might not have been a strong commander, at the end of the day, his failures paled in comparison with the challenges posed by the camp’s geography and the command’s decision to scatter small and remote bases throughout one of the most dangerous corners of the world. Brown called the October 3 battle “not only a tactical victory for the coalition, but a resounding operational defeat for the Taliban and the enemies of Afghanistan. The Taliban’s loss of key leaders and fighters severely weakened their sway with the population in both Nuristan and eastern Kunar.” Brown was talking about the overall picture in the region—“Bad” Abdul Rahman and hundreds of his fighters dead, the former HIG commander Mullah Sadiq in Afghanistan and beginning to play a positive role—but this remark later prompted a U.S. State Department official to ask, “If that’s a victory, what does defeat look like?”

After reading letters from Brown, Major General Scaparrotti, and Colonel George, McChrystal decided to assign the “memorandum of reprimand” against Brown to be a local filing—meaning that it would not follow him to his next assignment. It was a black mark, but McChrystal’s move downgraded the punishment.

On April 9, 2010, McChrystal went to Forward Operating Base Fenty to present the Silver Star—the third-highest award for valor bestowed by the United States—to Andrew Bundermann, Chris Cordova, Jonathan Hill, and Thomas Rasmussen. Silver Stars would also be awarded to Eric Harder, Brad Larson, Keith Stickney, Victor De La Cruz and, posthumously, Justin Gallegos. Portis and Brown also recommended that a number of troops receive other recognitions, including a Medal of Honor for Ty Carter and a Distinguished Service Cross for Clint Romesha.

The first propaganda video posted by the Taliban, on November 18, was a complete sham. Purported to be footage of the assault on Combat Outpost Keating, the film in fact showed an attack on Combat Outpost Lowell—which closed down a few weeks after Camp Keating did—along with some old clips of Combat Outpost Lybert, which had been shut down in 2008. Nonetheless, inexplicably, on November 30, 2009, the CIA’s “Open Source Center” released the video to the public, accepting the Taliban’s claim that it depicted the attack on Camp Keating. Members of the U.S. media in turn took the CIA’s word for it. To those who had served at the actual outpost attacked on October 3—and whose fellow troops had been killed there—this was another slap in the face. One outpost, another outpost, they were all the same to those who were safe at home.

In 2010, the Taliban released a legitimate video of the October 3 attack. The footage showed insurgents preparing for the assault in the mountains, chanting “Allahu Akbar,” and firing upon Camp Keating. “The prophet Mohammed, peace be upon him, says if you throw an arrow toward the enemy, it is as good as freeing a slave for the sake of Allah,” one insurgent yells in his own language.

“God is great!” and “The Christianity center is under attack!” shout others. “If you fight for God, then you will definitely be going to Heaven!” Once the insurgents breach the wire, one cautions, “Mujahideen have entered the base—don’t fire at the base anymore.” Another screams triumphantly, “These are the American tanks!… T… his is their advanced technology! Our technology is our faith and belief in one God!”

A Taliban spokesman, calling from an undisclosed location, proclaimed to reporters that the U.S. bombing of Combat Outpost Keating and Observation Post Fritsche “means they are not coming back. This is another victory for the Taliban. We have control of another district in eastern Afghanistan. Right now Kamdesh is under our control, and the white flag of the Taliban is raised above Kamdesh.”

Black Knight Troop remained in Afghanistan, working out of Forward Operating Base Bostick. After a memorial service on October 11 featuring a twenty-one-gun salute, Taps, and “Amazing Grace,” as well as remarks eulogizing each fallen hero, the surviving soldiers came together around a bonfire. Stoney Portis tried to give them an inspirational pep talk. John Francis, Jonathan Adams, and Jeffrey Hobbs reenlisted.