In the hot and turbulent days of summer 2021, when provinces were falling one after another and the sky of Afghanistan was filled with the smoke of insecurity and war, Mohammad Watan Dost was fighting in the heart of the dusty hills of Badghis in the hope of establishing peace. This former military man of the country was unaware that these were the last days he would wear his military uniform and take up arms to defend a land that was more valuable to him than any treasure.
Watan Dost, who had fought the Taliban in the alleys and backstreets of Herat, Badghis, Farah, Nimruz, and Helmand since 2009 and had traversed every inch of Afghanistan’s soil in military operations, never imagined that a day would come when Afghanistan would be surrendered on a silver platter to a group that had stolen bread and peace from the people’s table for years.
Mohammad recounts the bloody battle that took place in Badghis in August as follows: “They said Badghis was on the verge of falling. Two National Security domains, the Provincial Council, and several parliament members had agreed with the Taliban to surrender Badghis. I went to Badghis with two other army commanders. The province was supposed to be surrendered that same night, but we three army commanders deployed there and prevented this decision.”
As the Taliban were gradually advancing toward Badghis, a team of special forces under Mohammad’s command adopted a different strategy. They first left the city’s entry gates open for the enemy to enter, but immediately launched their offensive operations and did not allow the province to fall, even though there was immense pressure from behind for surrender.
Mohammad recounts to the Hasht-e Subh Daily as follows: “We left one city gate open for the Taliban to enter. Badghis is a small city, and they entered, but we did nothing and let them film. Then we closed the gate on them. At that moment, I called the army commander and told him to target the city with two D-30 guns. These guns fired from inside the brigade toward the Taliban, and they scattered. When they wanted to escape, the gates were closed.”
In that war, where the Taliban suffered heavy casualties, Mohammad was happy about the victory against the enemy, but in his heart, there was also a heavy grief and deep heartbreak, because he felt that there were hands behind the scenes that had pitted the people of Afghanistan against each other.
This former military man continues the account of that bloody battle as follows: “We fought very intensely; nearly 70 Taliban were killed, and even their bodies remained in the streets and markets of the city. Suddenly, the Chief of Staff called me and said: We sent you [to defend the city]. Why did you allow them to take the city? I called and said the city has not fallen, I am here in the square of Qala-e-Naw myself. When he saw the situation, he realized that we had not surrendered. I told him: We will not surrender unless we are stabbed in the back.”
Although the battle of Badghis ended with the resistance of Mohammad’s forces, the sky of the country remained cloudy. Fresh news was coming from the west; this time, it was Herat’s turn to be on the verge of falling.
After liberating Badghis, Watan Dost headed to Herat to fight there as well for the freedom and liberation of the homeland, but before the country’s military forces had a chance to react, Herat was suddenly surrendered to the Taliban through a pre-arranged deal.
According to his claim, the surrender of Herat by government leaders was a poisonous dagger that pierced his heart not from the enemy, but from behind; a dagger that not only wounded his body but also injured his trust and national feeling. A psychological wound that, four years later, is still burning within him; more scorching than all the physical wounds he sustained in the trenches of battles in various parts of Afghanistan and for which he shed his blood to fight for a generation.
As Mohammad speaks about the surrender of Herat after four years, his eyes fill with tears: “We were sitting in the Herat Corps headquarters with several military leaders, including Ismail Khan, and a meeting was underway. Two young men from Panjshir and Andarab suggested that we come and resist the Taliban. But when we looked out the window, we saw the Herat Corps commander kissing the Taliban, and Herat surrendered without any resistance.”
What Mohammad saw in Herat was more than a military defeat; this time, the fall occurred without even a moment of resistance. With a heart full of anger and a troubled mind, he decided to head toward Panjshir, perhaps the last bastion of resistance and another opportunity for standing firm.
A meeting was held, and Mohammad, with the same wounds from previous battles, continued the fight; a battle that changed the fate of millions of people in Afghanistan, including himself. That same night, as Mohammad and his forces were busy securing their position, two unidentified jets passed through the sky at a dazzling speed. No one knew where these jets had come from, but speculations pointed toward Pakistan and the ISI.
Later, during the intense battle, Mohammad was wounded, and one of his guards, a young man from Kandahar, lost his leg. In a situation where his main radio was lost and the environment was filled with fire and smoke, despite his injury, he reached another radio and sent a message: “Despite being wounded, I am still present on the battlefield.”
For one night and one day, he remained motionless amid the cold mountains with a wounded and bloodied body. There were no medical facilities, and no way to exit the area was available. Nevertheless, he maintained his communication and reported his position. Finally, a rescue helicopter reached the area and saved him from that peril. After immediate transfer, he was sent to Tajikistan for treatment, a place where the first stage of his physical rescue began, although his psychological wounds remain fresh.
Mohammad believes that the fall of Afghanistan was not only the result of war but also of betrayal. He says: “Two groups surrendered the homeland… in exchange for dollars that were even fake. They may have taken money, but they lost their conscience. And now they are ashamed of their homeland and ashamed of themselves.”
Now that Mohammad lives in one of the foreign countries, the voices of his comrades who lost their lives on the battlefields still choke his throat. With the arrival of summer and August, the heat of those days of blood and fire reignites in his soul. But what torments his spirit more than the wounds of war are the calls he has received over these four years from his former friends and comrades; calls that carry the scent of poverty, uncertainty, and oblivion.
Mohammad says in a calm but pain-filled voice: “Although we fought until our last breath, the superiors only used us… and then left us alone in the hardest conditions.”
You can read the Persian version of this report here:
از دل خاکوخون تا خنجر خیانت؛ روایت یک نظامی از آخرین روزهای مقاومت
