David Tyson’s Remarks on the 25th Anniversary of 9/11

We gather here today to remember those who answered the call that was made in the days immediately after 9/11.  In the spirit of those first responders here in New York City and Washington DC, there were small teams of Americans who were chosen to be the first responders to the place from which the 9/11 terrorist attacks emanated—Afghanistan.  And there these Americans would do lethal battle with the perpetrators and enablers of the attacks.  The first inserted behind enemy lines was the eight-man team known as CIA Team Alpha.  Then came the U.S. Army’s Green Beret team ODA 595.  Within weeks, these men, along with their Afghan partners, routed the enemy on the battlefield, reached their objective, and started a domino effect whereby enemy forces were no longer in control.  The terrorists had either been killed, captured, or fled the country.  This victory was enabled by the awesome power of the U.S. military and the CIA’s ability to gather intelligence and leverage the support of indigenous leaders.

I would like to recognize those members of Team Alpha—Justin (a recently retired Army special forces colonel)—and ODA 595—Captain Mark Nutsch (now a lieutenant colonel, US Army Reserve), chief warrant officer Bob Pennington, and communications sergeant (Sergeant First Class) Vince Makela.

Team Alpha and ODA 595 were inserted into Afghanistan (behind enemy lines) by the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment aka the “Night Stalkers.” And we have here today Jason Halloren, who was then a captain, MH-60L Direct Action Penetrator – Blackhawk.

Team Alpha and its Special Operation partners on the ground conducted the majority of their operations and movements on horseback, often in combat conditions.  And the monument behind me here symbolizes that aspect of our deployment.  I think I speak for almost all of us who were there when I say that the requirement to ride (and very often fall off) those horses on a daily/nightly basis was a very difficult, painful, vexatious, cursed, abominable, loathsome, torturous, and often, terrifying proposition.  I did consult the thesaurus a bit when writing this part—it’s hard to convey that horse stuff in a meaningful way.

I now would like to bring your attention to another fundamental aspect of that period of time in 2001, when we—I mean us Americans—were fighting in Afghanistan.   Alongside us were indigenous forces—Afghans—of various ethnic stripes.  Nowadays we use the term “partners” to describe them—“our Afghan partners.”  In 2001, they were a bit more than that: they were our fellow fighters, our shock troops, our security, our protectors, our vanguard, our reconnaissance force, our sources of intelligence.  They were the first—the first to shed enemy blood at our behest, and the first—again, the first—to shed their own blood.  They were killed, wounded, and maimed in large numbers.  They threw in their lot with us when we were just eight in number—at very great risk to themselves and their families—and they remained steadfast.  They became our brothers.

These were cavalrymen—the only such force in Afghanistan.  They did not merely ride horses or use them just for transport.  They conducted small- and large-scale combat operations as a cavalry force.  They attacked enemy positions on horseback.  They conducted cavalry charges on a routine basis.   And when all this was done in conjunction with U.S. air power, it was awesome.   It should go without saying that without these men, without these “partners,” without these brothers, we would not be here today.  But it needs to be said.  It needs to be remembered.

Our partner forces were led by Abdul Rashid Dostum.  There were other leaders, but it was he that started it all and unambiguously and vociferously joined our cause.  His cavalrymen served as the backbone of our local force.

I would like to introduce Commander Dostum’s daughter, Rahila.

I would like to introduce to you the following cavalry commanders—our brothers—who were with us in 2001.  I want to note that the cavalry commander military occupation specialty was probably the most dangerous and had the shortest lifespan on the battlefield:  Commander Faqir, Commander Kamal, Commander Chari.

I introduce: Dr Paikan (medical doctor on horseback).  I also introduce Zabi, the son of Commander Akram.  Commander Akram represents those located outside the U.S., those who remain in danger.

I introduce the interpreters for ODA 595: Zarif and medical Doctors Kamel and Rustam.

I note that I had planned to include in my brief introductions for each of these men – the number of family members they lost, killed in action, etc, in the fighting—2001 and onwards—meaning brothers, fathers, etc, but as I started to gather the information from them, it became too much.  It is hard to imagine what price these men paid in that war—one that for them, lasted well over 20 years.

I would like to introduce some of the family members of those men—those brothers in arms—who were killed in action:

Commander Ali Sarwar was killed in action 13 August 2021, 20 years after he fought alongside us.  His sons here today are Ali Reza and Ali Akbar.

Mohammad Jan was killed in action 9 Nov 2001 in the pivotal battle at Tangichesmaishifa.  His son here today, Habib, was 6 at the time.

I note that our teams first landed in the mountains populated by the Hazara people.  Thus, the Hazara were our first hosts, and their leaders and fighters secured the environment to begin our fight.  They went on to serve as the backbone of local forces.  We owe them a great debt.

Mr. Sultani was one of those key leaders, and Commander Yasin was his bodyguard.

On 25 November 2001, our Afghan partners, members of Team Alpha and other U.S. and allied military were engaged in intense combat with numerically superior al-Qaida forces.  And in that four-day battle, Team Alpha member Mike Spann was killed in action, becoming America’s first casualty in Afghanistan.  The 79th Star on the Wall at CIA.  He was married with three small children.  He had a father, mother, and two sisters.  This hero is mourned to this day.  The loss continues to be felt.  Mike then was, and always will be, the tip of the spear.  One who heard the 9/11 call.  Among the very first to go in and take the fight to enemy.

I introduce Mike’s widow, Shannon.  She was also a CIA officer at that time.

I note that commander Faqir (please raise your hand again) led the numerous assaults into the area still held by al-Qaida fighters to retrieve Mike’s body.  He did so at great personal risk to himself and his men.

During the course of that battle, U.S. air power was crucial to saving U.S. and allied Afghan lives.  I can say that without a doubt.

I introduce Allison, U.S. Air Force AC-130H Specter gunship navigator, who was a first lieutenant at the time.  Our Afghan brothers in arms called her “the Angel of Death.”

Chris was a weapons officer in a B-52.  He helped rain death on the enemy.

In that same battle, at the same time when Mike was killed, and just a few meters away, a man named Amanullah also fell.  He was one of our closest brothers.  Mike had worked very closely with Amanullah during the deployment.  Amanullah’s brother was also killed hours later.

I introduce Amanullah’s widow, Sohailajan, and her son-in-law, Feruz, a medical doctor.  I note that Shannon and Sohaila just met for the first time about an hour ago.  Their fates came together on 25 Nov 2001 and remain tied to this day.

Shannon and Sohailajan will now place a wreath at the base of the monument.

The nonprofit Badger Six was created in 2022 by Shannon to assist those men and families that risked it all in 2001 and fought with us side by side.  Badger Six was Mike’s call sign.  The job remains unfinished.

Thank you for coming. Please come up and meet our Afghan partners.