To Afghanistan-and-back.

DID YOU HEAR? THE TALIBS REALLY FUCKED HIM UP.

WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?

INTERVIEWING TALIBAN P.O.W.s WAS A STANDARD STOP FOR ALL OF US. I'D SPENT HOURS JOKING AROUND WITH INMATES AT THE TALOQAN JAIL AND TAKING THEIR PHOTOGRAPHS.

REMEMBER THAT ENGLISH GUY YOU RODE IN WITH?

HE WAS INTERVIEWING SOME TALIBS WEST OF KHANABAD, ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF KUNDUZ. THEY ATTACKED HIM ... THEY TORE HIS SKIN OFF WITH THEIR HANDS. LIKE ANIMALS.

I WENT TO THE HOSPITAL.

HE NEEDS SKIN GRAFTS. I REQUESTED A CHOPPER FROM BOTH THE U.S. AND THE FOREIGN INDUSTRY, BUT THEY BOTH SAID THE SAME THING: NO MEDEVACS * FOR JOURNALISTS.

IS HE GOING TO DIE?

"IT WON'T BE THE FIRST TIME. I LOST 3 LITTLE KIDS AN HOUR AGO. DAMNED KIDS WALK WHENEVER AND WHEREVER THE HELL THEY WANT."

JOURNALIST BODY COUNT: 13.

THE OUTCOME OF THE WAR HAD SEEMED INEVITABLE UNTIL 500 TALIBAN ESCAPED FROM PRISON AND BROKE INTO AN ARMS CACHE IN MAZAR-E-SHARIF. A CIA AGENT NAMED JOHNNY SPANN, WHO'D BEEN INTERROGATING THE POWs, HELD THEM OFF FOR HOURS BEFORE RUNNING OUT OF AMMO. 2,000 U.S. MARINES CROSSED THE UZBEK BORDER FROM TERMIZ TO CRUSH THE REBELLION. AND AS USUAL: BOMBS. LOTS AND LOTS OF BOMBS.

THE NEWS RIPPLED EAST. TALIBAN "CELLS"--IN REALITY, NORTHERN ALLIANCE SOLDIERS WHOSE ALLEGIANCES HAD SWITCHED BACK AS EASILY AS THEY'D DEFECTED--SPRUNG UP IN BANGI AND DASHT-E QA'LEH. IN TALOQAN OUR 45 -- WELL, 43 -- JOURNALISTS BLITHELY CONTINUED THEIR WAR COMMUTE TO THE KUNDUZ FRONT. WOMEN VANISHED FROM THE STREETS. A WORKMAN STOPPED PAINTING OVER THE TALIBAN LOGO ON THE TOWN SCHOOL. THE NORTH WAS IN PLAY.

I'D BEEN TREATING MYSELF TO POST-RAMAZAN DINNERS AT THE SHAH MASSOUD RESTAURANT (PREVIOUSLY THE MULLAH OMAR). EVERYONE WAS ARMED AND FRESH FROM THE FRONT, SO YOU GOT RESPECT MERELY FOR SITTING DOWN. IT WAS THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I ENJOYED LOCAL PRICING: 30 cents FOR ALL THE BREAD, KEBABS AND CHAI YOU COULD STAND.

CHAI?

NE.

I STOPPED GOING TO THE SHAH MASSOUD AFTER MAZAR. FACES SCOWLED; OTHERS LEERED. ANYONE COULD KILL YOU WITHOUT BEING PUNISHED; I DIDN'T WANT TO PUSH IT.

I'D COME TO AFGHANISTAN TO GET THE TRUTH. THE TRUTH TURNED OUT TO BE OBVIOUS AND CLEAR; WHY WASN'T IT THAT WAY IN MY LIVING ROOM BACK IN MANHATTAN?

NOTHING IS EVEN SLIGHTLY LIKE THEY SAY.

COME ON--YOU KNOW JOURNALISM IS FICTION.

AMERICANS WERE BEING TOLD THAT THEIR BOMBS WERE HITTING WITH PINPOINT PRECISION. I'D SUSPECTED SOMETHING LESS THAN 100% PERFORMANCE, BUT HERE THEY WERE, CARPET-BOMBING NORTHERN ALLIANCE CITIES.

CNN SAID THAT THE ALLIANCE WERE OUR ALLIES. I'D ASSUMED THAT THEY WERE JUST AS SCUMMY AS THE TALIBAN, BUT THEY WERE NOT ONLY JUST AS BAD BUT THE SAME EXACT PEOPLE.

THE LAW IS CLEAR: ADULTERERS MUST BE STONED.

I'D EXPECTED TO FIND PAWNS BEING VICTIMIZED BY CYNICAL SUPERPOWERS. AND I DID. BUT DAY AFTER DAY OF GETTING GOUGED, RIPPED OFF AND TREATED BADLY COULDN'T HELP BUT HARDEN YOU.

THE RADIO GUY FROM THE PARKING LOT DIED. NO ONE GAVE BLOOD.

EVERYONE, INCLUDING ME, WAS SCUM.

I FELT LIKE A WALKING ATM.

THIS GUY, HE CAN TAKE YOU TO MAZAR, BUT IT'LL BE $1,700 PER PERSON. OK?

NO. ANY NEWS ON KUNDUZ?

THERE'S FIGHTING AT THE AIRPORT. OH, AND YOU OWE ME $240 FROM YESTERDAY. SO: MAZAR $1,700 OK?

BEING AN ATM SUCKS.

NOTHING WAS WHAT I'D EXPECTED. THIS WAS, NATURALLY, WHY I'D COME IN THE FIRST PLACE: TO SEPARATE REALITY FROM WAR-FEVER PROPAGANDA. STILL, THAT DIFFERENCE WAS DISCONCERTING: IN A 99% MUSLIM NATION THAT USED THE KORAN IN PLACE OF A LEGAL CODE, HARDLY ANYONE PRAYED. OPIUM WAS SOLD--AND CONSUMED--OPENLY. AND THE BAZAARS SOLD VIDEO CD PORN TO THRONGS OF SELF-DESCRIBED MUSLIM FUNDAMENTALISTS.

"THOUNDERS BOOBS" * IS EXCELLENT!

MY WIFE AND I FOUND THE PLOT TURGID AND UNFULFILLING.

* YES, THE REALLY SPELLED IT THAT WAY.

ONE EVENING MY LANDLORD SCORED ME A COPY OF "TERMINATOR 2." UNFORTUNATELY, THE ELECTRIC CURRENT WAS SO WEAK, THE IMAGE REPEATEDLY PIXELATED AND LOOPED BACK TO THE BEGINNING OF EACH SCENE. NONETHELESS, IT WAS GREAT TO LOSE MYSELF IF ONLY FOR A LITTLE OVER AN HOUR.

DIDN'T WE ALREADY SEE THIS SCENE?

TWICE.

FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE I'D ARRIVED IN AFGHANISTAN, I DIDN'T DREAM.

BAM BAM BAM 

I CHECKED MY WATCH. WHO THE HELL WOULD KNOCK ON MY DOOR AT 3 IN THE MORNING?

WHAT IF ONE OF THE PORTUGESE NEEDED SOMETHING? MY NEW LANDLORD RAN A PHARMACY; COULD SOMEONE FROM THE HOSPITAL NEED SOME DRUGS?

IT SOUNDED LIKE 3 OR 4 MEN. THEY WERE INSISTENT; THEY POUNDED LOUDER AND LOUDER. THE LONGER THEY POUNDED, THE MORE I WAS TEMPTED TO OPEN THE DOOR. BUT IT WASN'T MY PLACE TO JEOPARDIZE AN ENTIRE FAMILY--AND IT WASN'T MY HOUSE.

FINALLY, THEY WENT AWAY.

ASSHOLES! NOW THEY'VE GOT THE ROOSTERS GOING.

I WAS ROLLING UP MY BAG WHEN PEDRO RAN IN, WEARING A STONE-COLD SERIOUS EXPRESSION.

LAST NIGHT SOME SOLDIERS KILLED ONE OF THE SWEDISH TV GUYS. EVERYONE'S LEAVING.

THE SWEDES LIVED 3 DOORS DOWN, NEXT DOOR TO THE POLES AND RUSSIANS. I'D SEEN THEM AT DAOUD'S PRESS CONFERENCES AND AT THE FRONT.

HOW'D IT HAPPEN?

3 OR 4 GUYS KNOCKED ON HIS DOOR. WHEN HE OPENED IT THEY SHOT HIM. THEY'D HAVE KILLED HIS 5 ROOMIES BUT THEIR TRANSLATOR BEGGED FOR THEIR LIVES.

A CONVOY LEAVES FOR THE TAJIK BORDER AT NOON. EVEN BBC IS GOING.

I'LL BE READY IN 15 MINUTES.

CONFUSED FOREIGN CORRESPONDENTS MILLED AROUND THE FOREIGN MINISTRY. TRUCK DRIVERS BEGAN CUTTING DEALS.

$2,000 TO DASHT-E QA'LEH, AFTER THAT YOU PAY TO FORD A RIVER.

$2,000.

$1,500 AND IT'S A DEAL.

EXCUSE ME, BUT DID ANYONE KNOCK ON YOUR DOOR LAST NIGHT?

WHAT TIME?

AS A MATTER OF FACT, YES. I DIDN'T ANSWER, THOUGH.

EVERYONE ELSE SAID THE SAME THING. THE CONCLUSION WAS INESCAPABLE: THE MURDERERS HAD GONE TO EVERY JOURNALIST GUEST HOUSE IN TALOQAN. ONLY ONE -- SWEDISH CAMERAMAN ULF STROMBERG -- HAD OPENED HIS DOOR. HE WAS DEAD; WE WOULD JOIN HIM IF WE SPENT ANOTHER NIGHT IN TALOQAN. THE MURDERERS HAD SCORED THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS; THEY'D BE STUPID NOT TO DO IT AGAIN.

INSIDE THE FOREIGN MINISTRY, THE SWEDE'S ROOMMATES WERE NEGOTIATING WITH THE LOCAL ALLIANCE BUREAUCRAT.

$2,000 FOR A DEATH CERTIFICATE IS OUTRAGEOUS!

YOU ALSO NEED PERMISSION TO TRANSPORT THE BODY.

YOU CAN'T ASK US TO TAKE HIM -- HIS BODY -- ON THE ROAD TO KOKUL. THERE WON'T BE ANYTHING LEFT OF HIM!

PACK A CARPET INSIDE ... IT WILL PROTECT HIM.

THE NORTHERN ALLIANCE AND THEIR U.S. PUPPETMASTERS HAD A FIRMLY MONSTROUS POLICY: NO ASSISTANCE TO JOURNALISTS, INCLUDING MEDEVACS. THEY SENT EMPTY CHOPPERS BACK TO TAJIKISTAN ALL THE TIME; STILL, THEY REFUSED TO SPARE ANY OF THAT EXTRA SPACE FOR THE SWEDE'S COFFIN. THUS THEY CONDEMNED HIS BODY TO THE DESECRATION OF 10 HOURS ON PITTED AFGHAN ROADS.

AT LEAST THEY BACKED DOWN ON THE $2,000.

IT ONLY TOOK AN HOUR TO DISSOLVE MY LITTLE COMMUNITY. I FIRED MY DRIVER, MY TRANSLATOR AND THE BOY WHO FETCHED MY CHAI. I NOTIFIED MY LANDLORD AND ENGAGED IN THE USUAL LEASE-BREAKING ARGUMENTS.

HE SAYS YOU SHOULD PAY $15 EXTRA FOR THE HAMAM.

THAT WAS INCLUDED IN THE $15 I ALREADY PAID!

I TIPPED MY TRANSLATOR $200, MY BENZENE LAMP AND A HOT-WATER THERMOS. THEN I ASSIGNED HIM TO FIND ME A TRUCK FOR THE EVACUATION.

WE SHOULD LEAVE NOW, BEFORE THE OTHER JOURNALISTS. IF SOMEONE IS WAITING TO AMBUSH US, THEY'LL EXPECT A WHOLE CONVOY.

TRUE. AND GET US A CRAPPY SOVIET TRUCK. WE WANT TO LOOK LOCAL.

I HAVE THE PERFECT DRIVER. HE USED TO WORK FOR THE TALIBAN; HE WON'T STOP FOR ANYONE.

GREAT. START WITH $200 AND PAY HIM $300 IF YOU HAVE TO.

PEDRO HELPED ME TO LOAD MY BAGS.

I HEARD THE MAZAR TALIBS ARE COMING THIS WAY. WE DON'T WANT TO BE HERE THIS AFTERNOON.

ARE THE AMERICANS GOING TO BOMB TALOQAN?

I WISH I COULD REPORT THAT I LEFT WITH A WARM FEELING OF AFFECTION, BUT THAT'S NOT HOW IT WAS.

I DON'T KNOW. FUCK THESE PEOPLE. ALL THEY WANT IS TO ROB AND KILL US.

SOON THE CITY GAVE WAY TO THE DESERT. A B-52 HEADED TOWARD KUNDUZ. KUNDUZ HAD "FALLEN," YET THE BOMBING CONTINUED.

IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL DAY. MY HEAD START GOT EATEN UP BY A FEW MISTAKEN TURNS. IT GOT SO BAD THAT WE KIDNAPPED THE ONLY UNIFORMED POLICEMAN IN THE WHOLE COUNTRY.

YOU COME NOW.

BUT I CAN'T LEAVE MY POST!

ULTIMATELY I ARRIVED AT THE BORDER ALONG WITH THE REST OF THE CONVOY. IT WAS LATE, DARK. THE PYANJ RIVER FLOWED INKILY UNDER A HALF MOON AS THEY LOADED ULF STROMBERG'S CASKET ONTO THE BARGE.

HE RESTED IN A CORNER, NEXT TO HIS BACKPACK AND CAMERA BAG.

[ILLUSTRATIONS OMITTED]

This excerpt of To Afghanistan and Back is reprinted with permission of Nantier Beall Minoustchine Publishing Inc., New York, New York. Publication: June 2002. Ted Rall is a nationally syndicated columnist and cartoonist. He is the author of 2024 (NBM ComicsLit), a spoof of George Orwell's 1984.