Sgt. Kevin Garrison, a squad leader assigned to 1st Bn, 327th Inf Regt, 1st BCT, 101st AD, tells his story, Feb. 4, about his experiences in Pech River Valley. Garrison, has become an advocate of the combat stress program designed to help Soldiers overcome the anxieties of deployment.
NANGARHAR PROVINCE – Three knocks at my office door indicated he arrived. He entered the room as if most of the world was lifted from his shoulders. He told me he'd just come from another visit at the combat stress clinic.
He sat down and explained he was ready to tell his story, and tell why he encourages Soldiers to seek help. He relaxed, settled back in his chair and said, “My name is Sgt. Kevin Garrison, and this is my story of 3rd Plt, Co D, in Afghanistan.”
Garrison recalled a late fall morning in the Watapur Valley. His team was tasked to over watch another unit, during an op known as Bulldog Bite. He reminisced walking through the steep, rugged mountain terrain, as the morning sun rose with the sound of their steps deep into the Valley. I listened silently, and watched as Garrison’s eyes shifted to the table before us, his right hand moved as if pinching the grip of his rifle. He was in his world now.
“We air assaulted in about 2-kms west of a village called Sangar,” said Garrison. “Co A’s 1st Plt. was going into Sangar, and we were setting up to over watch them.” Garrison’s team arrived at their temporary camp. There, they waited till the sun came up, and soon spotted an enemy scout on the Watapur horizon.
“The scout disappeared,” said Garrison. “I mean there were trails everywhere. “This was in the heart of Taliban country. There was nobody up there that wasn’t Taliban. The women and children left, and all that were left were Taliban fighters.”
Around 10:30 a.m., Garrison heard an explosion, and quickly moved to the east to observe. It was too late. His team had already been surrounded. “The enemy had low crawled up, and they were bounding up onto our position trying to overrun us,” Garrison said shaking his head slightly. “To the east there was a big drop off, so we couldn’t move to the east. To the south, we couldn’t get down; there was nothing but terraces, high terraces. To the west, we were surrounded, and to the north, we were surrounded.”
As he continued, Garrison’s demeanor became uneasy. “There were enemy fighters down to the east in the trees shooting at us,” he continued. “We were taking fire from at least 3 of our 4 directions, and there was no place we could go. We couldn’t move—if you moved, you got hit.”
Co. D fought back, but the enemy increased their resistance. Garrison remembered RPGs coming in from their west, and bullets flying in every direction. He ceased his hand movement. I watched as bitterness filled his eyes. I wasn’t prepared for what he was going to say next.
“Spc. Shannon ‘Doc’ Chihuahua, he was hit by an RPG,” said Garrison. “It blew him in half. It was him and 4 other ANA. One of them was blown up so bad that we didn’t even realize he was there, until we found extra hands. We continued taking fire. My best friend was wounded. My lieutenant was wounded. Our radio operator had been shot in the head, but he was still talking on the radio, doing a hell of a job.”
Garrison was also among the wounded. “We’ve had concussions,” Garrison said, referring to himself and a fellow NCO. “The doctor medivacked me and the other sergeant off the mountain that night. We went from 22 platoon members to 16, then from 16 to 9, and from 9 to 7 in a matter of the first 24 hours of the mission.”
Garrison grew silent, shifted his weight, then shook his head. I’ve had a few concussions, and I've some issues such as headaches, dizziness, forgetfulness, and sometimes I stutter real bad,” he said. “I still shouldn’t have let them take me off that mountain.”
He said the Soldiers remaining continued the fight for the next 4 days of the 5-day op. By mission’s end, Garrison explained that his unit estimated more than 200 insurgent fighters were killed. “What they did up there was nothing short of miraculous,” said Garrison. “They were nothing short of amazing. The men that stayed up there that day deserved every award they got, and they’ve earned their right to pick their place in society. Nobody will ever be able to take away from them what they did.”
With his wounds healed, Garrison said he was sent back into the Watapur Valley, Jan. 1. He recalled having bullets whizzing by so close to his head, he could feel the breeze during his battles there.
I sat back in my chair. Nothing I could say would bring comfort to his nightmares. Garrison turns to me as if sensing my uneasiness. “If you’d asked me a couple weeks ago to tell this story, I’d be bawling right now,” Garrison humbly admitted. “But several weeks ago, I went in and saw the combat stress team, and I bawled my eyes out there. Yeah, hard (explicit) infantrymen — we do cry. We lose brothers, and we come closer to death than a lot of other people ever will. I bawled my eyes out to the combat stress officer, and it’s good to get it out. Ever since I got it out, I’ve felt better. I’ve been able to operate better, function better.”
Garrison explained that this is his 2nd tour, and has become quite an advocate for the combat stress clinic on FOB Fenty. He stops by every time he visits the FOB. “After 9 months of hard combat, 10 months, whatever it’s been now, you need to talk and let it out,” he said. “Soldiers need to be aware of that and then take advantage. It’s really a beneficial program. They can offer you further assistance when you get back home.”
While deployed, there are classes for communications, anger mgt., and combat stress mgt. Garrison said he recommends them to any Soldier. “I’m getting the help I need, so that I don’t take this out on my wife and my kids,” he said; “so I don’t bring this war home with me. What I’ve done here, what my Soldiers have done here — we’ll never forget it. And we are right not to.”
