We Still Need to Kill Bin Laden

9/11's Unfinished Business
USA Today
September 11, 2009

In the eight years since 19 al-Qaeda terrorists struck at America's heart, the nation has taken significant strides both here and abroad to make its citizens safer.

Security around everything from ports to pipelines to jetliners has been hardened. Intelligence agencies are vigilant in a way that was tragically lacking before Sept. 11, 2001.

The government has disrupted the terrorists' financial networks and imprisoned Khalid Sheikh Mohammed, the reputed tactical mastermind behind the attacks. The military has eliminated al-Qaeda training camps in Afghanistan, and Predator drones have taken out dozens of terrorists along the Afghan-Pakistan border.

Yet amid all the success in weakening the al-Qaeda network, vulnerabilities remain, and one gaping piece of unfinished business stands out. Osama bin Laden and his partner, Ayman al-Zawahri, remain at large.

After 9/11, getting bin Laden seemed the only way to redress at least some of America's anger and hurt. But as the pain of that awful day has receded, so too has the urgency of bringing him to justice. (In a Fox News Poll in July, only 50% said the U.S. should attempt to assassinate bin Laden, down from 66% soon after 9/11.)

The excuses and rationalizations are plentiful: He's only one man, and one man is hard to find. He's weakened and in seclusion. If eliminated, he'd just be replaced. Al-Qaeda has splintered into a fractured network of franchises. Even in the Muslim world, its popularity is sinking: In Pakistan, a recent Pew Global Attitudes poll found that support of the terrorist group had plummeted to 9%.

Yet no matter what the state of al-Qaeda, the importance of getting the organization's leaders should not be downplayed. Bin Laden is the person most responsible for the collapsing New York skyline, the battered Pentagon and a smoldering hole in the Pennsylvania countryside. For would-be terrorists, he is inspirational proof that you can get away with mass murder.
The trail has gone cold since the U.S. botched an effort to get bin Laden in late 2001 in Afghanistan's Tora Bora region. The Times of London reported this week that a small band of CIA operatives and special operations officers remains on the hunt in Pakistan, where bin Laden is thought to be hiding.

Unrelenting pursuit is essential. For Islamic extremists, bin Laden's death or capture would deprive them of their charismatic leader. For the nearly 3,000 people who died on 9/11, it would bring justice. And for all other Americans, it would reinforce the message that anyone who attacks the USA will be hunted to the ends of the earth.

The Few, The Proud...The Parents

The Few, The Proud...The Parents
At first, we resisted our son's decision to join the Marines. We're learning to see things differently.

By Pat Saperstein

After we celebrated the Fourth of July with a family barbecue, my 18-year-old son, Sam, shipped out for Marine Corps boot camp in San Diego. The idea of having a son in the military still seems strange, but I'm starting to get used to it.

When Sam first announced his decision, it seemed mystifying that my not-terribly-athletic, bookish son would decide that what he wanted most of all was to be a Marine.

My friends were shocked and offered plenty of advice -- he should see a psychologist; he should consider the Navy; did I realize how underhanded the recruiters could be?

But Sam never had an easy time at school, and he wasn't interested in college, at least straight out of high school. He wanted to be a Marine, period. Since he was a toddler, he's been fiercely stubborn, a child who did exactly what he wanted without much interest in the approval of teachers or parents.

For years, he read up on World War II and the Vietnam War and devoured war novels and fighter plane encyclopedias, though he had little use for history classes at school. It didn't occur to me what his hobby might lead to. We didn't know a single person who served in any branch of the military, other than the grandfathers who fought in World War II.

In some circles, Sam's decision might have seemed practical, even heroic. But in our liberal, antiwar sphere, his desire to enlist was met with shock -- even hostility. I wasn't really surprised at our friends' reactions -- after all, Sam's dad and I were initially opposed. We talked to him over and over about the risks he would face, the unyielding obedience he would need to summon. We spent the last year trying to inject some reality into his somewhat idealized vision of the military, but true to form, his mind would not be changed.

As the parent of a high-schooler, I had to answer the same question at every social event or Trader Joe's encounter: "What is your son doing about college?" That was a hard question, because though I didn't agree with him, it was still his choice, one he felt strongly about.

Often the reaction was pity or even anger. A friend with anarchist leanings pleaded with me to get him counseling. One mother stated firmly that she felt her job as a parent was to raise her daughter so that there would be no chance she would ever join the military. A few people warned that even though he had selected a noncombat job category, the Marines might still require him to face combat. Was that supposed to make me feel better? Because it didn't.

Once I got over my initial reticence and started talking to other parents about his choice, I found out that Sam wasn't the only kid we knew who was interested in the military. One boy had nearly joined up but was derailed when he got a mononucleosis-like illness. A colleague's nephew -- a British citizen -- was accepted into the Marines. Another friend's son decided to become an Army medic even though he was nearly finished with college.

My son passed his high school equivalency exam last summer and signed his enlistment papers in the fall, with the understanding that he would be inducted after completing a year of community college. The decision seemed to agree with him. After years of never really getting with the program, years of endless struggles over toothbrushing and homework, he changed in the months after enlisting.

The bedroom that had been the typical teen vortex of dirty plates glued to gaming magazines was suddenly organized and vacuumed. For the first time ever, homework was getting done and chores accomplished, at least some of the time. Despite weekly karate classes, he had started the year with the typical gamer's pudge. Now he woke early on Saturdays for physical training with the recruiter. He watched his diet, joined the Y and got the highest score in his bodybuilding class.

It seemed like he was ready for basic training, but we were still worried about what would come after.

Sam selected aircraft information systems as his job (which, thankfully, involves an entire year of training in mellow Athens, Ga.), and he says if the Marines need him to go into combat, he'll do what is asked of him. Of course I'm worried about Afghanistan, tanks, injuries, psychological scars ... but worrying hardly seems productive.

So he'll be an unconventional Marine -- full of historical facts but short on street smarts, a noncombatant in a branch known for its combat prowess, a kid from a liberal family who's going to really miss Zankou chicken and the taco trucks when he gets to the Marine mess hall.

It wasn't until I started chatting online with a childhood friend just a week before Sam's ship date that I started to make peace with my son's decision to face war. My friend's 20-year-old son recently decided to emigrate to Israel, where he will be required to serve in the Israeli army. "College is a joke if you're not into it," my friend wrote. "Just an expensive waystation for bored kids."

"It's the first lesson in learning to release them," he typed. "To let them do what they feel passionate about."

And then: "Entering the military and serving your country is a lost art among us privileged Angelenos."

I closed the little message box on the computer feeling a little less guilty that I should have done more to stop Sam, and maybe even a little proud of my son for being willing to try something that is completely foreign to us privileged Angelenos.

===============
Pat Saperstein is a senior editor at Variety and editor of the blog EatingLA.com.

USS Jason Dunham!

New warship named for lifesaving Marine
Corporal who covered live grenade with body honored at christening

The Associated Press
updated 8:48 p.m. ET, Sat., Aug 1, 2009

BATH, Maine - In a solemn ceremony punctuated by talk of courage, service and sacrifice, the mother of a Marine corporal on Saturday christened a warship honoring her son, who died after covering an exploding grenade to protect his comrades in Iraq.

After composing herself and taking a deep breath, Deb Dunham smashed a bottle of champagne over the bow of the 510-foot warship Jason Dunham, then held the bottle aloft to the cheers of hundreds.

She was joined by the Marines who served with her son, by her husband, Dan Dunham, and their daughter Katelyn Dunham.

Retired Gen. Michael Hagee, a former Marine commandant who was with the Dunhams when their son died at Bethesda Naval Hospital days after the explosion, said Jason gave the "gift of valor." Hagee said the warship will serve as a reminder that freedom "is paid for by the men and women who wear the cloth of this nation."

"They are willing to give up everything that is important: love, marriage, children, family, friends," Hagee said of the 22-year-old Marine. "I can tell you I've always stood in awe of that."

At the Bath Iron Works shipyard, a special place was reserved for those who served with Dunham in Kilo Company, 3rd Battalion, 7th Marines. Dunham's company commander, Maj. Trent Gibson, Sgt. Bill Hampton and Cpl. Kelly Miller, who were present the day Dunham died, were among them. Hampton and Miller were next to Dunham when the grenade detonated. Their lives were saved by Dunham's actions. They suffered burns and shrapnel wounds but recovered.

Hagee said Dunham, from Scio, N.Y., seemed destined to be a Marine: He reminded the audience that Dunham's birthday was the same as that of the U.S. Marine Corps.

Dunham served as squad commander on his first tour in Iraq, and he chose to extend his enlistment so he could serve the entire tour with his Marines. He vowed to bring his squad home alive, and was true to his word. They all came back.

Dunham won the Medal of Honor for his actions April 14, 2004, as his squad sought to engage insurgents after a convoy was ambushed.

While the squad searched vehicles, the driver of a Toyota Land Cruiser jumped out and attacked Dunham. They fell to the ground, where the fight continued.

Dunham shouted: "No, no, no! Watch his hand!" as the attacker pulled out a grenade. Dunham covered the explosive with his body and his helmet as it went off. He died eight days later.

Before the ceremony, Dunham's mother said it was fitting that the ship that would bear her son's name is a guided-missile destroyer. "It's an honor Jason would really get a kick out of," she said.


Copyright 2009 The Associated Press. All rights reserved

Where are the Afghans ??

Dearth Of Capable Afghan Forces Complicates U.S. Mission In South

By Ann Scott Tyson
Washington Post
July 25, 2009

GARMSIR, Afghanistan -- "Six, you've got six," Marine 1st Lt. Justin Grieco told his military police training team, counting the handful of Afghan police officers present for a patrol in this volatile region of southern Afghanistan.

The men filed out! of the dusty compound gate into the baking afternoon sun. On the patrol, U.S. military police officers outnumbered the Afghans two to one -- a reflection of the severe shortfall in Afghan security forces working with Marines in Helmand province.

President Obama's strategy for Afghanistan is heavily dependent upon raising more capable local security forces, but the myriad challenges faced by mentors such as Grieco underscore just how limiting a factor that is -- especially in the Taliban heartland of southern Afghanistan.

The extent of the push by 4,500 Marines into Taliban strongholds of southern Helmand will be determined, to a degree, by whether there are enough qualified Afghan forces to partner with and eventually leave behind to protect Afghan civilians. Brig. Gen. Lawrence D. Nicholson, commander of the Marine forces here, said urgent efforts are underway to dispatch additional Afghan forces to Helmand.

But here in Helmand's Garmsir district -- as i! n much of the south -- Afghan forces remain few in number, as well as short of training, equipment and basic supplies such as fuel and ammunition. Some Afghans quit because they are reluctant to work in the violent south; others are expelled because of drug use. The Afghan troops here, heavily dependent on Western forces, are hesitating to take on greater responsibilities -- and, in some cases, are simply refusing to do so.

The Afghan National Police officers mentored by Grieco's team, for example, are resisting a U.S. military effort to have them expand to checkpoints in villages outside the town center of Garmsir as the Marines push farther south, taking with them the Afghan Border Police officers, who currently man some of those stations.

"Without the Marines, we cannot secure the stations," said Mohammed Agha, deputy commander of the roughly 80 Garmsir police officers. "We can't go to other villages because of the mines, and some people have weapons hidden in their houses. We can't go out of Garmsir, or we will be killed."

The border police, too, have resisted taking up new positions. Col. Gula Agha Amiri, executive officer of the 7th Afghan Border Police, complained of his unit's lack of body armor and chronic shortages of ammunition and fuel. "If we have contact with the enemy, we can't fight for more than two hours," he said.

Both police forces have lost dozens of men to insurgent attacks in recent years, the Afghan officers said.

U.S. Army Capt. Michael Repasky, chief of the team that mentors the border police here, remains frustrated at the lack of logistical support. "I've been here five months and haven't been able to figure out why they aren't getting fuel," he said, explaining that the police receive fuel perhaps every two weeks and then run out.

That, in turn, makes the border police officers reluctant to move beyond their headquarters in the provincial capital, Lashkar Gah, he said. "If they move farther from Lash, it will be harder for them to get what they nee! d. They want a roof over their heads, hot meals, time to rest," Repask y said. "I can encourage them to start a new checkpoint. But the commander can say no, and there's nothing I can do about it."

The overall shortage of security forces in southern Afghanistan exacerbates such tensions. There are about 13,600 Afghan soldiers and 11,000 police officers in the south, and each force is short of 4,000 men for positions that have been authorized but not filled. U.S. military officers say Afghan forces should be doubled to provide adequate security in the south.

"The U.S. force is growing down here, but the Afghan force is not growing nearly as fast," said Col. Bill Hix, who until recently led the Afghan Regional Security Integration Command in Kandahar, another large southern province, overseeing the development of police and soldiers in southern Afghanistan. "We have people who are bleeding and dying, and we need to look hard at how we generate [Afghan] forces."

The shortages of capable Afghan forces means they usually assist wit! h searches and security on operations planned and led by Marines, the mentors said. "Right now, they're just happy with us telling them 'Go there, do this,' " said Stephen Woods, a civilian police adviser with the Marine mentoring team.

There are exceptions. Two police officers buying lunch in Garmsir this week observed a drug sale, shadowed the dealer, detained him and seized 30 bundles of heroin, Grieco said.

Gaining approval for increasing the size of the Afghan forces -- which requires international endorsement -- has been a maddening process, said Hix, comparing it to "negotiating a peace treaty."

Even after such approval, many hurdles remain, particularly in the south, he said.

"It's a challenge to get people down here," said Hix, adding that units that deploy to southern Afghanistan often suffer higher rates of unauthorized absences. "The guys think there is a monster down here." Drug use in the forces is another problem, according to U.S. and! Afghan officers. "We lose 5 to 10 percent of every class in the polic e force to opiate use," Hix said.

Training the police and army poses other challenges, he said. Police officers and soldiers -- the vast majority of them illiterate villagers -- require extensive training, but during a war only so many can be pulled away from their jobs at any one time.

Building training and other facilities for the forces and providing them with equipment remain slow because of red tape and contracting rules, he said. It takes 120 to 180 days to start work on a training facility and often more than a year to 18 months to field new equipment, such as the 1,000 Humvees on order for the Afghan army in the south. "We can't swing the money cannon quickly enough to adapt," Hix said.

Still, Hix said, the Afghan forces have made significant progress in the south. In the past year, the training capacity for regional police has doubled and the rate of those absent without leave has halved.

Despite the problems, Hix said that replacing foreign ! forces with homegrown ones is the only viable long-term solution, in part because the latter cost far less. "We should not be substituting U.S. troops for Afghans, which is what we are effectively doing now...in trying to secure and stabilize Afghanistan," he wrote in an e-mail.

U.S. and Afghan officers urged greater emphasis on professionalizing the Afghan police, which are at least as critical as the army in a counterinsurgency campaign but have received far fewer resources. Residents also have complained about corruption among police officers, the mentors say.

The police's law-enforcement role in Garmsir is limited because many of the officers are illiterate, Grieco said. "Paperwork, evidence, processing...they don't know how to do it," he said. "You can't get a policeman to take a statement if he can't read and write."

Increasing numbers of residents are coming to the police station to report problems, said Staff Sgt. David Dillon, one of Grieco's! team members. Still, as a patrol moved through the local bazaar, the police barely interacted with civilians, troubling their mentors.

Shopkeepers and residents eyed the patrol silently and did not respond to greetings in Pashto. An Afghan boy swore in English at one of the Marines, who responded: "Go home."

"They're still a little hostile towards us," Woods said. "They will throw rocks. They will give you that look. They don't trust us."

From Anbar to the NFL

Bu Mike Klis
Denver Post
May 4

There are many Broncos players who, after their freshman season of college ball, began to realize the NFL was not just possible, but probable.

Others may have been focusing on earning a promotion from backup to starter. Some may have been dealing with other issues, such as grades and girls.

Rulon Davis went off to fight in the Iraq war.

Fight for his country, a far cry from the sports world, where Davis is currently competing, as an undrafted 25-year-old free-agent defensive end, for a spot on the Broncos' roster.

* Adapt and overcome. *

It's an inspirational edict U.S. Marines frequently say to each other. Yes, Davis witnessed death. Soldiers he considered friends were killed.

"Unfortunately, yes," he said. "They're the real heroes. Not me. People think, 'Wow, you did all this.' But I don't think it's that big of a deal because I didn't have to sacrifice my life, like some of these other guys. Really, the honor is on them."

Heroes come in many forms. Broncos defensive backs Champ Bailey and Brian Dawkins are often considered heroes.

Davis has been considered a football hero, too, having started the past two years at the University of California. That was part of his new life, after his four-year commitment to the Marines and six-month tour in Iraq in 2004.

"That's serious. Marines are tough people, man," said Broncos rookie tight end Richard Quinn Jr. "My dad was one."

And Davis' football stardom at Cal would come after his motorcycle flipped on a Los Angeles freeway interchange and left him crawling, too late, in an attempted escape from under a rolling semi.

* Pain is weakness leaving the body. *
Davis, 6-feet-5 and 281 pounds, didn't play much high school football in Covina, Calif. So upon graduation he joined the Marine Corps reserves. He first got the idea after spending his eighth- and ninth-grade years at the Marine Military Academy in Harlingen, Texas.

"I fell in love with the Corps," he said. "The structure, the discipline, the leadership traits. The routine of things. Organization. It was my thing. I liked it a lot. I wanted to live my life as a Marine."

He went through the Marines' rigorous training program, then served one weekend a month in the Marine reserves when he decided to also play football at Mount San Antonio Junior College in Walnut, Calif.

He had 16 1/2 sacks as a freshman. Davis still loved the Marines, but now he also loved playing football. And Pac-10 schools scouted him, and offered a scholarship. The Marines would make one more call, however, to go to Iraq.

"I wanted to get back as soon as I possibly could to start playing football again," Davis said. "But I had to do my job. I signed the contract, and I like to honor my commitment."

Davis does not give specifics of his tour of duty. When asked, he politely asked to change the subject. Civilians who have never served can only understand they will never understand.

"It's tough," he said. "I think about it all the time."

Brought up right
America can only imagine how most 20-something men start their day, but Davis begins by making his bed. His father, Lorenzo, served a four-year commitment in the Marines from 1971-75. If Semper Fidelis didn't run through Rulon's blood the day he was born in San Diego, the Latin expression meaning "Always Faithful" was ingrained while he attended the Marine Military Academy in Texas.

Lorenzo didn't push the military school upon his son but said his son knew right from wrong before he went off to military school.

"It wasn't my decision; it was his decision," Lorenzo said. "We talked about it for about three months. It was hard letting him go; he was only 13 years old. But I felt if a young man wants to get out in the world, this was a great way to do it. And this would teach him some character traits he might not learn if he stayed at home."

Davis said long after football, he will keep his hair short, his face shaven. He will take a jog each day.

* Once a Marine, always a Marine. *
In another sense, the Marines are always with Davis, in the way he acts, the way he carries himself.

"The way he speaks, he's very correct, proper," Broncos coach Josh McDaniels said. "He treats everybody with a great deal of respect. He listens, asks good questions. Sits up in his chair, always attentive, those types of things. You can tell he was brought up the right way."

Davis returned from the war safely, only to endure a near-death experience a few months later while riding his motor-cycle. He was exiting off one busy L.A. highway onto another when the car behind him tapped his bike. The collision sped him uncontrollably forward into the rear bumper of a midsized truck in front. The bike flipped, and Davis flew.

Airborne, Davis landed beneath an adjacent semi. Fortunately, Davis was wearing his helmet, which was dented in the front. But there was still the matter of this semi. "I knew I was about to die if I didn't move," Davis said. He tried to crawl out of the way, but the semi continued to roll, right over his calves.

Davis suffered some internal tissue damage and spent a month in and out of a hospital because of swelling. And while his return to his sophomore football season at Mount San Antonio was out, he did not have any broken bones.

Major-college football is a competitive business. Before Davis had completely healed, he had pledged his allegiance to the Cal Bears, who didn't forget about his 16 1/2 sacks before he left for Iraq, and before the motorcycle mishap.

3-4 looks familiar
Davis voluntarily enlisted in the Marines, but come last week, he thought he would be drafted — into the NFL. It didn't happen. San Francisco, Jacksonville and the New York Giants all communicated their interest in the days leading up to the draft. But after the draft ended, Davis chose the Broncos instead because they are converting to a 3-4 defense.

"I don't even care about that anymore," Davis said of not getting drafted. "I'm happy I'm with this team. I'm trying to make this team right now and that's where my focus is."

Turns out, Cal is one of the few major-college programs to play a 3-4. And Davis became the only pure "5-technique" defensive end the Broncos took last week, either in the draft or as a free agent.

Maybe he isn't such an underdog to make the Broncos after all. Not with his experience as a 3-4 end. Not with all he's been through. The challenge of going from undrafted free agent to a 53-man roster? Puh-leze.

"Nothing's came easy in my life as you can see," Davis said. "I've had to work for everything. Hard work is not something that's unfamiliar to me."

Marine Success continues in Farah Province

Governor of Farah meets with Marine Corps leaders


FARAH PROVINCE, Islamic Republic of Afghanistan – Key leaders of the Farah province of the Islamic Republic of Afghanistan met with senior leaders of Special Purpose Marine Air Ground Task Force – Afghanistan Jan. 3, 2009, to discuss the alliance’s progress and security advancements in the southwestern province.

Col. Duffy W. White, commander of SPMAGTF-A, attended the bi-weekly meeting to introduce himself and make known his support to Farah Provincial Governor Rohullah Amin during their first meeting together.

Other key military and security force leaders also engaged Amin on such topics as ongoing operations, budgetary expenses and policy in the region.

The key leaders discussed several of the positive effects seen in Farah Province, including revised legislation, progress in the logistical support of Afghan forces, increased security patrols, improved commerce and the building of schools and improvements in infrastructure, all of which support ongoing counterinsurgency operations.

“Where the Marines work [with] district leaders, there is really good coordination,” said Amin of his experience of working with U.S. Marines.

Marines and sailors with 3rd Battalion, 8th Marine Regiment (Reinforced), and Combat Logistics Battalion 3, the ground and logistics combat elements of SPMAGTF-A, are working diligently to clear highway roads of improvised explosive devices and other threats to improve security and infrastructure in the region.

“It’s getting better every day,” said Amin. “We should continue this. There may be some problems, but we should keep going on. We will continue working well with others.”