Roslyn and Shawn,

It has almost been a year since we met out on Bottle just north of Kabul, Afghanistan. We were on the way to a meeting with some Afghans. They knew we were coming, though, and were waiting. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about either of you since then. The whole day plays over and over in my mind. Sometimes I still feel like this is a 1000 lb weight. Maybe writing this will help.

Shawn, I am so sorry we couldn’t get you out faster. I know you were scared. We were all scared. We did everything we could, though. Eventually we had to use a crowbar and axe to get you out, but it was too late. It took almost an hour; my hand still hurts sometimes. Sorry…we should have moved faster. You were never alone, though. We were with you…I hope you heard us. I can’t get the picture out of my mind. I still feel so helpless sometimes, and mad, mad, mad that I was so slow. I know I should just let it go. I might try to visit you sometime in VA. Sorry for everything, and for your family.

Roslyn, what were you doing out there with SUVs? That question haunts me still. What were you all thinking? Didn’t you know not to ever trust them? We were running late that morning. We got there at 0811, about 5 minutes after. As soon as I saw the truck, I just knew. We took you out of the SUV carefully, and picked you up so you could get home quickly. We worked for an hour to make sure everything was taken care of. We prayed for both of you on the side of the road. I think it was 100 that day.

I am so sorry for you and your family. You were so young, and had so much to do. You shouldn’t have been there in the first place. There is no one to talk to here about this. No one really wants to hear about that stuff, but I give them credit for trying. I wouldn’t want to hear about it, either. I had to burn my ACUs and boots that night. But I can’t forget. I don’t want to forget.

I have been thinking about trying to contact your family to let them know the whole story; the truth. Not sure about that. Maybe I’ll call them on the year anniversary, 20 May. I admire what you all did, and promise to never forget: not just you, but all of them. You were never alone, either. We were with you. I am proud of you for being so brave.

I wish the public would wake up and acknowledge what is going on over there, and stop ignoring everything, and stop pretending it isn’t happening. You deserve so much better than that.

Your fellow soldier, age 35