No Worse Enemy Read Online Free

plastic chairs.
    An official, the head of the anti-crime department of the Gereshk district police, stood up to speak. A small man, with a neatly-cropped beard that had started to turn grey, he was as emotional
as the men he addressed and struggled not to break down. ‘The ISAF operations are not useful’, he said. ‘They leave and the Taliban come back, so we will always have these
problems. Local commanders, ex-Mujahadeen, can establish security, not outsiders. They are indiscriminate. They see no difference between women and children and the Taliban.’ His finger
trembled as he raised it in emphasis. I thought he was going over the top, trying to let everyone know that he empathised with them. But then I realised that he too had lost several family members
to an air strike. ‘You can ask anyone about how honestly I have served the government and if I have any links with the Taliban’, he said, almost in tears. ‘But they have hit me so
hard that I am stunned. What can I do? I have lost four of my brothers. How can I look after their families now?’
    Neither the other officials nor the farmers reacted. The fact that this had happened to a senior government official surprised no one. ‘After the bombing, no ground troops came out at all.
They could have come but no one did. I don’t have anything else to say, my only request is that in future operations, civilian casualties should be prevented’, he said, although the
only two people in the room with any connection to air strikes were fast asleep.
    The elders raged about the bombings, saying that the Taliban were often far away by the time the bombs were dropped, that security was getting worse and that people would soon start joining the
Taliban. ‘Life has no meaning for me any more’, said one man, ‘I have lost twenty-seven members of my family. My house has been destroyed. Everything I’ve built for seventy
years is gone.’
    Metal containers were brought in, placed on tables and opened. The elders were given bricks of five hundred Afghani notes, signing for them by dipping their right thumbs in ink and making
fingerprints. Captain Hennessey thought that millions of dollars were being handed over: $100,000 per person killed. The actual amount was closer to $2000. The men were told the money had come from
the president himself. As he handed it out, the ANA commander said, ‘May God give you the fortitude to bear this and protect you from such sorrows in the future.’
    The money, a huge amount in Helmand, was handed out in front of the Afghan National Police. I worried that the men (who carried the money wrapped in sheets and would bury it somewhere in their
compounds) might soon be receiving another unwelcome visit.
    Afterwards, I spoke to some of the men who had received compensation.
    ‘I lost twenty people and I was given two million Afghanis [about $46,000]’ said one man, explaining what had happened. ‘It was before 12.30 at night when your forces came to
our area. They were involved in a fight but the Taliban retreated. I had put everyone, all the family and the children, into one room but after the fighting was over we brought them outside to
their beds. Later, a jet came and dropped bombs on our house. Two rooms were destroyed. In one of the rooms, my two nephews and my son were there. My son survived. I rescued him from the debris. In
the other room were six of my uncle’s family. All became martyrs. They were buried under the soil. I moved the children away and came back to rescue those under the debris. While we were
trying to do that, the children were so frightened they started running away. The plane shot them one by one.
    ‘All we want is security, whether you bring it or the Taliban. We are not supporting war. We support peace and security. If you bring peace and security you are my king. If they bring
security they are our kings. I want nothing. I don’t want a post in the government. All I want is to be able to