Fighting the Taliban and the Betrayal. An Afghan soldier's story

Western accounts of the fight against the Taliban are mostly Hollywood style - Rambo type figures fighting the Taliban. The Afghan army – which did most of the fighting, is hardly mentioned.

This is the story of an officer from the Afghan special forces. Four years ago, they were abandoned
when the US pulled out of Afghanistan. He had to flee to Iran and now faces possible deportation to Afghanistan and an uncertain future. This is his story of service in the Afghan army and being abandoned before the Taliban takeover. His identity has to be hidden for fear of his safety, but he has kindly shared his story for this blog.

My story: I proudly served in the Afghan national army for seven years and four months. During my service, I worked in joint operations units, as well as in an aerial surveillance section.
The world sees the Taliban and the war in Afghanistan mostly through a Western lens, with analysis often disconnected from the reality on the ground. What follows is my account as someone who fought on the frontlines as a member of the Afghan National Army. This is not a political statement or propaganda. These are lived truths things I saw, felt and survived.

For us, the soldiers of the Afghan National Army (ANA), fighting the Taliban was not just a military operation. It was a battle for survival, dignity, and the future of our country. We fought for our land, for our mothers and children, for our schools, hospitals, and the dreams we had built.

The Taliban were not merely an insurgent group. They were openly and directly supported by Pakistan. Without this backing in the form of safe havens, weapons, training, and logistical support the Taliban would not have been able to resist for even a week. What appeared on the surface to be an internal conflict was, in truth, deeply rooted in decisions made across our border.
We saw it first hand. Taliban fighters crossing from Pakistan, supplied and organized. The war they waged was not only against the government, but against civilization, progress, and humanity itself.

Their weapons included not just rifles and bombs, but suicide attacks, terror campaigns, the killing of children, and the systematic destruction of infrastructure. Schools, clinics, roads, nothing was spared. Their goal was to break the will of the Afghan people, not just win battles.

There were many times we were left alone in the trenches. The support that was promised did not arrive. The strategies of our international partners often did not reflect the realities on the ground. Although international forces were present, we, the Afghan soldiers, bore the heaviest burden because it was our blood in that soil.

Quality of the Taliban
In the early years, the Taliban were scattered poorly equipped and lacked organization. But over time especially after 2015 they rebuilt. With external support, advanced training, and better equipment, they evolved. They began combining guerrilla tactics with coordinated field operations and heavy weapons. The Taliban were highly adaptive and tactically clever. While their individual weapon-handling skills varied, many were competent in basic infantry tactics, especially those trained in Pakistan or having years of battlefield exposure. They were very effective at setting ambushes, using IEDs, and concealing their movements—especially in areas with dense terrain like mountains or villages.

They rarely engaged Afghan forces in direct combat. Instead, they preferred guerrilla-style operations such as hit-and-run attacks, coordinated ambushes, and assassinations. Their ability to vanish quickly after engagements made it difficult to pin them down.

The Taliban would withdraw and return again. Their logistical and ideological roots especially across the border in Pakistan, remained untouched.

To avoid airstrikes from drones or ISAF aircraft, they used civilian infrastructure—including mosques, schools, and even hospitals—as shields. These tactics severely limited our response, as we were constantly concerned about civilian casualties and international law.

Taliban motivation and structure:
The Taliban were ideologically motivated and driven by both religious indoctrination and local grievances. However, their morale often depended on leadership presence and access to resources. In certain areas, they would retreat quickly when faced with overwhelming force; in others, particularly in their strongholds, they fought with determination.

The ANA, often in coordination with Afghan intelligence (NDS) and ISAF partners, did manage to capture and interrogate Taliban fighters. In many cases, valuable intelligence was obtained during these interrogations.

However, a major challenge was that most of the individuals or locations identified through such intelligence were often located in Taliban-controlled territory—making it difficult, or at times impossible, to act effectively or quickly on that information.

The Taliban were not a monolithic group. They were divided into different regional and operational cells, such as the Muaz Group, Delghi team, and other local networks. These units operated with a high degree of autonomy, making them unpredictable and difficult to counter.

As mentioned earlier, they frequently used civilian buildings and public infrastructure for protection, knowing that Afghan and NATO forces would hesitate to attack such locations. This gave them a significant tactical advantage and allowed them to escape even highly sophisticated aerial surveillance.

The Afghan army
Afghan special forces (such as the Commandos and KKA ) were highly effective and often superior in direct engagements. But the regular ANA was a mix of soldiers with varied training and morale. That inconsistency often made unified combat difficult.

Officially the ANA was a national force for all Afghans. But in practice, ethnic influence did exist in recruitment, command appointments and deployment.
In some cases, ethnic mistrust caused a lack of cohesion and weakened combat effectiveness.
Though often hidden, these divisions had real consequences in the field.

The Role of NATO / ISAF in the Fight Against the Taliban
NATO forces were highly effective in specific areas such as air support, intelligence and joint operations. However, the larger problem was strategic. After defeating the Taliban in battle there was little effort to fill the vacuum with sustainable governance or services.

The attitudes of villagers to the ANA/ foreign troops varied greatly. In many areas, especially in the north, civilians were supportive of the Afghan National Army and even the international forces, as they provided security, development, and aid. However, in Taliban-dominated areas, villagers were often either sympathetic to, or intimidated by the Taliban. Fear of reprisal made cooperation with ANA forces very risky for locals.

While the US/NATO presence was appreciated by many Afghans, particularly in terms of education, infrastructure, and women's rights, others saw them as occupiers. This mix of perspectives was shaped by regional politics, tribal influence, and personal experiences.

Corruption:
Corruption was a devastating internal enemy. Many soldiers were not paid on time, or their pay was claimed by others under their name (known as "ghost soldiers") Supplies were recorded as delivered but never actually reached the troops.

In one case our unit went without food rations for weeks, even though all the paperwork said everything was "available." I think that was in North of Afghanistan.

ANA vs. Western Forces
Western troops were disciplined, well trained, empowered to make decisions and supported by reliable logistics. Even a low-ranking American or Swedish soldier could assess a threat and respond tactically.
In contrast, many ANA soldiers lacked sufficient training and initiative. Decisions were often top-down, making the force slower and less adaptive.

If I had led the fight against the Taliban.
-Immediate reform in leadership and elimination of corruption.
-Real practical continuous tactical training.
-Equipping all units consistently and effectively.
-Building a strong intelligence unit to detect infiltrators.
-Cutting off Taliban supply and sanctuary in Pakistan.
- Strengthening ties between the army and local communities through tribal and religious leaders

The fall of camp Shaheen – Mazar e Sharif.
In the final days, my unit and I were stationed at Camp Shaheen, one of the largest military bases in northern Afghanistan, located in Mazar-e-Sharif.
History will never forget that dark day: August 14, 2021 the day when not only the gates of the city fell, but also the hearts of millions of Afghans shattered.

In the days leading up to it, we heard the news of provinces falling one by one. Sheberghan, Sar-e-Pul, Taloqan, Kunduz... all collapsed in silence. There was no real resistance anymore, and those who were supposed to stand and lead had either gone silent, or disappeared.

At Camp Shaheen, we gathered together nearly 500 soldiers, commandos, pilots, technicians, and officers. All of us were wounded by war, tired, but still holding on to hope waiting for some miracle.
By nightfall, all communication was lost. No signal. No word from Kabul. MOD stopped answering calls. The chain of command had collapsed.

On the morning of the fall, we could hear gunfire but it wasn’t from our camp. It was coming from inside the city. Civilians were running through the streets, confused and terrified. The Taliban had entered Mazar-e-Sharif without a single bullet fired.
But we, at Camp Shaheen, were still holding our ground.
One of my fellow officers a military pilot said in frustration:
`We have aircraft, but no one is giving orders to fly. They've even taken the keys’!

That afternoon, the final order came:
Surrender the base. Leave all weapons, equipment, vehicles even the drones.
With tears in their eyes, soldiers laid down their weapons. The sound of hearts breaking was louder than the sound of any gunfire.
I stayed in my post until the very last moment, staring at the flag on the wall the flag I had sworn to protect, fought for, bled for and now had to surrender without even a final fight.

At dusk the Taliban entered Camp Shaheen.
They were smiling, but their eyes were filled with pride and victory. They looked at us as if we were soldiers who no longer had a nation, no flag, no government no command.

I didn’t speak. No one did. Some of the soldiers lowered their heads. Others stared back into the enemy’s eyes in silence. Deep inside, we were all asking the same painful question:
How did it come to this? Why were we left behind?

That night, with trembling hands, I packed the few items I had left:
A torn Afghan flag, a group photo of my unit, and my military ID card. There was no farewell. No ceremony. Just me and a few close comrades slipping out silently through the back gate—no words, no hope, only wounded pride.

We moved under the cover of night, avoiding the main roads. From Mazar to Baghlan, then Baghlan to Parwan, we moved like shadows through a country that no longer recognized us.

At every checkpoint, the army was gone. Uniforms had vanished. Instead, there were Taliban fighters armed, dressed in turbans, with cold smiles as they asked
"Where are you coming from, soldier?

We lied. We disguised ourselves as farmers, students, laborers. Not just to save ourselves, but to keep alive the truth the world had forgotten.
After four long days and nights, we reached the outskirts of Kabul. Exhausted, hungry, thirsty, and broken by the road and the betrayal. Still, we carried a small hope that Kabul might offer some refuge. Maybe some command remained. Perhaps one last line of defence.

But as we reached the hills overlooking the capital, our hearts sank.
Smoke filled the sky.
Cries of panic echoed through the air.
And we saw the republic’s flag being taken down.

At that moment, in heavy silence, we understood:
There was no Kabul left to return to.
No government. No commander. No stronghold.
Only the ashes of a dream we once fought and bled for.

In that moment, I realized:
We were not defeated in battle. We were abandoned.
 
The Day We Were Abandoned
When I arrived in Kabul, I went to stay at the home of one of my closest friends, Wahidullah. He had been my roommate at the military academy, and his house was located near Shaheed Crossroad. The very next day, like thousands of others, we decided to try and reach Hamid Karzai International Airport, our only hope to escape a collapsing country.

We made three consecutive attempts. The first two failed. The crowds were overwhelming. Panic was everywhere. Sporadic gunfire echoed all around us. The soldiers blocking the way showed no concern. We messaged our NATO and U.S. colleagues - the same ones we had served beside for years, but no one responded.

On our third attempt, the morning of August 26, 2021, around 9:00 AM, we finally reached the infamous Abbey Gate. Wahidullah stood beside me my comrade, my brother steady and loyal in the darkest moment of our lives.

People were screaming. Women pleaded. Children cried. The air was heavy with fear, desperation, and exhaustion. In the chaos, armed men beat the crowds with cables and metal rods. No one was spared not women, not children, not the elderly. The violence was indiscriminate, and no one could protect themselves.

Despite the brutality surrounding us, we held on to a flicker of hope the hope that our voices would be heard, and that somehow, a gate to safety might open.

But at around 5:30 PM, a massive explosion tore everything apart.

Light. Smoke. Screams. Blood. It was as if the world ended in an instant. Dozens were killed or maimed. I couldn’t hear. My ears were ringing. My vision was blurred. All I could make out were faint cries, moans, and the last breaths of the injured.

I called Wahidullah’s name. There was no reply. I searched frantically through the dust and rubble until I found him lying motionless, his face soaked in blood, eyes half-open, body lifeless.
I reached out, but he was already gone.

I will never forget that moment. Surrounded by the dead, the wounded, and the smoke I was alone with the body of my brother. No one came to help. No flights. No rescue. Even the nearby soldiers stood still, helpless and confused. The airport had become a mass grave.

With the help of others, we carried Wahidullah’s body away from the scene and rushed him to a hospital in the city. But there was no hope left. Days later, we received confirmation: Wahidullah’s body had been identified at Kabul’s Emergency Hospital.
My brother not killed on the battlefield, but in the chaos of betrayal and collapse died at a gate where peace was supposed to begin. We waited for help, and none came. We were abandoned in silence.

On the way back from the hospital, my soul was heavy with grief. That day, not only was Wahidullah laid to rest, but so were our faith, trust, and sense of belonging.
We, who had survived the frontlines, were left defenceless on the day of promises and hope. Forgotten and left behind.

The Real Solution for Afghanistan
The answer lies in three words: Unity Integrity and National Ownership.
If Afghanistan had a truly national inclusive and accountable government, rooted in the will of its people and free from foreign manipulation, the Taliban would not have returned.
Foreign troops should have remained in a supporting role, not as decision-makers. And until we eliminate internal corruption, ethnic division and public distrust, no military victory can be sustained.

In the end, the collapse of the government wasn’t just a political or military defeat it was the shattering of our hopes. And yet, history will record that we stood our ground. We fought with what we had, for a cause we believed in. And if, one day, there is a chance to rebuild Afghanistan we will be ready to stand again. This time, not for war, but for peace.
                                                                    -----------

Hundreds of former Afghan soldiers are in so bad condition, Today, one of my former colleagues called me, who did not have warm clothes for his children for the cold winter and not enough food to eat.

If any genuine person wishes to help the author, I can put you in touch with him.

I have also published an account from an Afghan student in Kabul, on life under the Taliban regime and his thoughts on the geopolitics of the region.
He too wishes to remain anonymous but wants his story to be heard (below).    
Life in Afghanistan - a first person account

Further reading:

US house foreign affairs report on Afghan withdrawal

Wasted Afghan aid

US Army, learning from failure in Afghanistan

Reasons for the collapse of the Afghan army (US study)