Letter from Afghanistan: One morning in the life of a land under attack

By KATHY GANNON
Associated Press Writer

JALALABAD, Afghanistan – From behind a painted mud wall and the flowered mattress and steel bed frame leaning against it, a missile peeked out. A single anti-aircraft gun sat perched, almost precariously, on a nearby rooftop.

Several Taliban soldiers lounged nearby, waving Kalashnikov rifles. Their base sits halfway between Jalalabad and the Pakistan border 45 miles away.

They are the defenders of Afghanistan's Taliban territory against the U.S.-British campaign, now in its second week.

"We are not afraid. We trust in Allah," said Gul Mohammed, a 25-year-old Taliban soldier.

Several of his colleagues, toting rocket launchers and rifles, squeezed into the back of a pickup. One fumbled with his aviator-style sunglasses, his missing arm replaced by a bright red string that glared in the bright midday sunshine.

At least six bombs crashed to the earth in and around the eastern city of Jalalabad on Monday, part of American attempts to destroy Taliban military bases and suspected terrorist training camps run by Osama bin Laden and his al-Qaida network.

As the bombs fell and immediately afterward, Jalalabad seemed an odd mix of war and routine, of tension and reflexive determination to get on with daily life.

Within minutes of the first bombing, the city fell silent while residents waited for more planes, another thunderous crash, perhaps a missile.

But nothing more came.

Quickly, the city resumed its activities. The chugging engines of motorized rickshaws reverberated through the city. Horns blared, and horse-drawn carts clopped down the potholed roads.

About half the market was shuttered: Its merchants had relocated to the countryside, other residents said.

But the other half of the market bustled. Hawkers screamed for business. Small boys – their hands and faces permanently blackened by grease – worked on engines and changed tires.

The road to the Pakistan border didn't seem packed with refugees, and there was no indication that Taliban troops were stopping those who did try to leave.

East of Jalalabad, several crumbling refugee camps – reminders of previous conflicts in Afghanistan – were empty.

From Kabul, the capital, had come reports that residents were fleeing to these abandoned refugee camps because the Taliban were stopping them from crossing into Pakistan, which says it has sealed its borders to all Afghans without proper documents.

But at two of three camps, there was no sign of life. Most of the buildings were only partially standing.

At the third, small children played near the road. They giggled, poked and pointed at a bus carrying international journalists – the only Westerners seen in Afghanistan in nearly a month.

An Afghan resident of Jalalabad, who didn't want to be identified by name for fear of reprisals, talked frankly about the situation.

"No one likes the Taliban," the resident said. "But they don't want the northern alliance because they killed so many people. If the king returns, that will be good."

The exiled Afghan monarch, Mohammad Zaher Shah, has lived in Rome since he was deposed in 1973. Many have suggested in recent days that he might play a role in unifying a post-Taliban Afghanistan.

Taliban soldiers, though, are hardly giving up. They are gearing up their defenses – against their northern foes and the U.S.-led coalition against terrorism.

A few miles before Torkham, the border crossing to Pakistan, a truck carrying a multiple rocket launcher sat parked to the side of the road, its launcher pointed skyward.

Less than a mile away, a truck-mounted anti-aircraft gun sat on the rocky roadside, covered in beige netting – presumably to conceal it from aircraft passing overhead.

The Taliban troops manning the gunners sat in the blistering sun, wiping perspiration from beneath voluminous black turbans. "We won't give up," warned one, who gave his name only as Mohammed.

A bit farther along, at the black steel border gate that separates the land at war from its eastern neighbor, a giant white sign in broken English welcomes the few visitors who are coming into Afghanistan.

"Faithful people with strong faith enter Afghanistan," it says. "The sacrificing country heartly welcomes you."

APNP-10-15-01 1259CDT