The ambush began before daylight as Lt. Col. Wendell Calhoun and a National Afghan Army Unit searched for insurgents, IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices) and weapon caches in a village near the Pakistan border in January 2006.

Calhoun, a member of Southeast, was imbedded with the Afghan National Army unit as they supported the Third Marines. Calhoun told his interpreter, Mohammed Hakim, to stay at his side so he could communicate with both Afghan and American forces.

No one knew then that the day would turn deadly or that it would forge a bond so strong that, three years later, Calhoun would invite Hakim and his pregnant wife to stay with his family in Louisville.

“He saved our lives that day”

There was only one road in and out of that valley. They hadn’t found much on the three-day mission and were preparing to pull out of the area when insurgents armed with rocket-propelled grenades (RPGs) and machine guns twice ambushed American forces.

Less than an hour later, an IED destroyed the Afghan National Army Ford Ranger traveling behind Calhoun’s vehicle. The blast was so violent that all they found from the Ranger was the door 200 feet down the road.

A second blast hit an Afghan National Army jeep, seriously injuring two soldiers.

“Once that blast happened, we were ambushed a second time and ended up calling in artillery, an Apache attack helicopter to help in the skirmish and a Medivac helicopter to evacuate those who were wounded,” Calhoun said.

But the fight was far from over.

The Afghan National Army battalion ran into two more IEDs. Hakim translated as Calhoun gave instructions.

“We needed Hakim to coordinate our response,” Calhoun said. “He saved our lives that day.”

U.S. forces flew in additional ammunition, rations and water, along with an engineer team that carried handheld mine detectors to sweep the road for more IEDs.

Twenty-four Afghan soldiers lost their lives or were injured that day.

“The Afghan Army soldiers are patriots for their country,” Calhoun said. “They put their lives on the line every day in a struggling democracy.”

“I owe your husband a debt from Afghanistan …”

In July 2006, after a year in Afghanistan, Calhoun’s tour ended, and he returned to Louisville as the state training administrator for the Kentucky Army National Guard. That year changed the lieutenant colonel, who already was a seasoned soldier.

“I was exposed to so much that fundamentally changed my belief system,” he said. “One of the larger changes was the fact I met some wonderful Muslims over there who want to do the right thing. Hakim was one of them. And I also struggled with how much Americans have in comparison to Third World nationals. In Afghanistan, I saw kids fist-fighting and drawing blood over something we’d put in the trash.”

Calhoun could not find words to express his gratitude for friends who stepped up to help his wife, Theresa, and children, Zach, 13, and Brendan, 11.

While he was gone, a neighbor mowed his lawn every week. Others painted his house and stained his deck. Women in the cafeteria at Christian Academy, where Theresa works, sent home leftovers so she wouldn’t have to cook.  Southeast deacon Rick McIntire and his wife, Lisa, included the Calhoun kids in family outings.

“That meant more to me than those individuals will ever know,” Calhoun said.

As he edged back in to life in Louisville, Calhoun did not know that the U.S. government sponsored Hakim and his wife to move to the United States as a reward for his service. By then, Hakim, who speaks four languages, had been serving as a U.S. Army interpreter for five years. The immigration service sent the couple and all their belongings-which fit in six boxes and two suitcases-to Boise, Idaho, where they supported him for three months.

But there aren’t many jobs in Boise. At the end of three months, Hakim and his wife faced going to a homeless shelter. A Mormon family befriended them and ultimately bought two airline tickets so Hakim and his wife could look for a job in Indiana.

When Hakim called Calhoun from Butlerville, Ind., it brought back a flood of memories. There was no doubt Hakim needed a lifeline.

“Hakim had no income, no healthcare for his wife, who is pregnant, and no job in Indiana,” Calhoun said. “I started talking with friends about bringing Hakim and his wife here to Louisville to help them get on their feet. I thought it would be a great opportunity for my family to reach out to them.”

When Hakim’s wife told Calhoun that they had no way to repay them for all they’re doing, Calhoun explained it this way: “I owe your husband a debt from Afghanistan. You owe me nothing. If you want to pay me back, you can be happy in the life that we’re trying to give you and your husband.”

By Ruth Schenk | rschenk@secc.org
The Southeast Outlook