A Trout Fishing Fantasy

I lifted the chain, swinging the gate open so Rose could drive the car into the meadow. Once she had passed in, I got back into the passenger seat and directed her down the hill where we parked by the monument to Vince Marinaro and Charlie Fox. “This might be my last time here. It's been a long time, but I've got a lot of memories on this stream.” “It doesn't have to be the last time,” she said. “I know, but it's a long drive, and I'm seventy-one.” I looked through the thin screen of trees to the Letort, one of the legendary trout streams. It used to sit in quiet isolation; now a Home Depot buzzed up on the hill above the far bank. “Let's go fishing.”

I rigged my rod, slipping on a light vest. You don't wade the Letort, you just need shoes that can navigate a soggy bank. We sat on one of the benches and watched. Resting the water like this can tell you a lot. It was a cloudy day — a day of possibilities on a spring creek like the Letort, but right now there was nothing much happening, until. . . on the far bank, a trout sipped an insect off the surface. I was familiar with that spot — a nice undercut for a fish to hide, and let the current funnel food to it. It was a long, difficult cast. I tied on a little hot orange ant and put it as close to the bank as I could. After several tries, I was sure the trout was not buying what I was selling.

I looked back at Rose; she was reading a book. Tying on a Shenk's hopper, I put it about five feet ahead of the under cut, carefully mending my line as it drifted toward the spot. As the saying goes, all hell broke loose. The water erupted, and my reel sang as the trout took line. I slowed it a bit with my palm. Rose called instructions out to me. I put up my hand — “Not now,” I said. Don't worry about her, play the fish. She's a beauty. I've taken her. That's a tough spot. “Ed?” It was Ed Shenk, the legendary fly fisherman. I'd hired him as a guide once. I owned one of his hand made rods, and he gave me a small box of his flies. Yeah, it's me. You're not done with that fish. She's a tough one. That's one of the hoppers I gave you, isn't it? “You died last year, Ed.” When I had fished with him over twenty years ago he looked ancient, with coke bottle glasses and a limp. He looked older now. I know, I know. But Vince, Charlie, and I get to hang out down here. We spent so may years fishing on this stream. . . His voice trailed off wistfully. Some guy from DC bought Charlie's house. He almost never fishes; just likes to look down on the 'legendary Letort.' “Who are you talking to, Gary?” “No one; I was just musing about the history of this place.” “Well, let's get that fish in.”

The trout finally tired, and I brought her to hand. As soon as she was in the net I pulled the barbless hook out with a hemostat and carefully placed her back in the water. In seconds she swam off. Nicely done. Then Ed turned and walked away to sit with Vince and Charlie.

Farewell Afghanistan

For those who are listening to the news, or just casting a sideways glance at a newspaper, The Islamic Republic of Afghanistan is rapidly liquifying. This was apparently a surprise to President Biden and his horse holders, who continue to cite the overwhelming superiority of the 300,000 man Afghan National Army as opposed to the rag tag 65,000 man Taliban. The Taliban, uninformed of their inferiority, are running the table.

The recurring question amongst the news geniuses is: “How could we spend $1 trillion and twenty years of effort only to see it go up in smoke in just a week or two?” The optimists say Kabul will hold out for a month.

I have a different question: “We've been given a picture of the Taliban as an insurgent movement. In fact, events of the last ten days show them to be an army, with a complete operational planning element, and a logistics planning component. Without these, they couldn't have accomplished their coordinated conquests of both cities and strategic territory. Did US intelligence know of these capabilities?” President Biden's Pollyanna—like statements suggest that either we were unaware of these capabilities, or we preferred not to let on about them.

The Taliban skillfully cut off the Northern Alliance and the few border crossings that permit ready entry and exit to the mountainous country, then began a campaign of methodically conquering provincial capitals. It was said that Afghan troops fought well before running out of supplies and running off, shedding their uniforms and hitching rides home. News folks in the know stated that the central government was unable to resupply its forces. Taliban forces had no such problem. For a force barely a fifth the size of the Afghan National Army, without a US designed logistics system or air force, the Taliban seemed to understand that war was primarily about planning and logistics. If they were overextended, the Afghan National Army wasn't noticing, and the fact hadn't come to the attention of Pentagon Press Secretary John F. Kirby, who, for a press secretary seems awfully uncomfortable at press conferences.

One particular fact has gone unsaid throughout the US Afghan adventure. The Taliban are well supported by the Pakistani military. The is no power superior to the military in Pakistan, and they see Afghanistan as theirs to interfere in. They have a strong islamist streak. If the Pakistani military decided that the Taliban should not be operating freely in Afghanistan, they would be hard pressed to do so. A significant portion of Pashtun power rests on the Pakistani side of the border, and the Pakistani military has the power to disrupt the Taliban logistics chain. It's never been clear to me why this fact remains unsaid. (The Taliban are a Pashtun tribe. They represent about one-third of Afghanistan's ethic population. There are about as many Pashtun on the Pakistani side of the border as on the Afghan side)

The final item to be addressed is the shame of the United States at failing to evacuate those Afghans who assisted us in this ridiculous twenty year war effort. I won't discuss the stupidity of attempting to convert Afghanistan into a western democracy. But we have know for some time that at the moment of our departure (if not earlier) those Afghans who assisted us, whether as translators or in any other capacity would be in danger of being murdered. Yet we have wrapped the possibility of bringing them to the United States in the most impenetrable bureaucratic barriers. Ironically, if those same people could make their way to our southern border, they could just walk across, and not even receive a ticket for a court appearance. Yet we have doomed the majority of those who supported our war effort. The comparison to Vietnam and Iraq is apt, but the death toll may be higher.

For those who wonder how we got here, kindly remember that we always get to the same place. Once upon a time the likes of the Dulles brothers, and the John McCones of the intelligence world went about toppling governments we didn't like, replacing them with others that we may or may not have liked any better. It was a very foolish way to act, but not as foolish as assuming that every culture wants, or even understands western democracy.

The question of who is responsible for these failures is a tricky one. President Donald Trump famously blew up at his senior officers at an early briefing, telling them they didn't know how to win. Trump, of course, didn't know what he was talking about, either. He was busy helping the American public get tired of winning. In a 2007 article in Armed Forces Journal, Colonel Paul Yingling suggests that it's a failure of generalship — that our general officers have failed to make our leaders understand what it will take to win a war. You can read a discussion of that important article here. But the reality is different. If a general tells a leader what that leader doesn't want to hear, the general is either going to change his tune, or we're going to get a new general in here who sings the right song. Then we will march our forces in there so the politician can make his mistakes at the expense of the very small number of parents who send their kids off to the military.

Why can we and do we fight like this now? Because Colonel Yingling is wrong. Nations no longer fight wars. Politicians and the press fight wars, along with associated pressure groups. Oh, and a small number of military men and women, representing less than one half of one percent of the population. That's why we will continue to try to turn countries like Afghanistan, with illiteracy rates over seventy per cent, into western democracies with high tech militaries. We can't help ourselves; the thought of backing a non western democracy doesn't play in a world where foreign policy is made in the open press. Perhaps that means that the furture must belong to dictatorships such as China, if they can hold themselves together. It's also possible that the entire Westphalian model is obsolete, but we won't know until that's all over.