Matthew Blackman and I grew up together in north eastern Colorado, on his family’s ranch. We are Brothers; not by blood relation, nor in any legal manner. Our relationship is deeper than that, a connection of spirit and soul. Matthew’s family owns the ranch, and is financially comfortable; people living in big cities would laugh at the idea of them being rich, but in our rural county they are considered to be the wealthy elite. My Pa is Arthur Blackman’s Top Hand (what city folk call a cowboy).

In our community Matt and I would have lived in separate worlds; except for a twist of fate. No one seems to know what happened to my Momma, older brother sister. When I was just two years old, they drove off to visit her parents in Kansas City. They never got there, and they never came home. Anna Blackman, Arthur’s widowed Aunt had offered to babysit me, because I was colicky, not fit for a long road trip, otherwise I would have gone with my Momma and siblings. Sometimes I feel shame that I am glad that I didn’t disappear.

The Blackman family had hired an au pair to care for Matthew, the second son of the Blackmans; they generously offered to care for me too, while there was hope my Momma and siblings would return. Anna Blackman decided she was my ‘Nanna’ and no one dared to challenge her. So, until I was age five, I lived in the big house, I had my own room adjacent to Matthew’s. At that time, I had no idea that it was an unusual situation. Not only was my Pa an employee of the Blackmans, he and I are Black, and the Blackmans are White.

Never the less, Matthew and I had received our pre-schooling, including Kindergarten, from Anna Blackman. Just before we began First Grade, I moved back in with my Pa. Every year ‘Nanna’ Blackman took me shopping for clothes for school, mostly at Goodwill, however, if she could not find something serviceable, only then would she purchase something new. Nothing fancy, but she was a serious bargain hunter, so most everything I had was quality. As we progressed through the grades, I was attired better than most of the kids, if not quite as well as the kids of the ranchers.

My Pa was always taciturn, oh he had a sense of humor, if his smiles were rare, when he did, they were warm; his occasional laughter was joyful. He ensured I always knew my place, I was the son of a working man, no shame in that, but I should never ‘put on airs’ because of the generosity of the Blackmans. My ‘Nanna’ too enforced strict discipline, although with generous love. I was raised to be polite, to respect my elders, and to be a gentleman. Matthew was the one who pushed the boundaries of propriety, having me sleep over in the big house, or join him going to movies with his family.

I don’t know the details, but my Pa had an understanding with the Blackmans. It was my Pa who gave me my first pocket knife, my first Resistol ‘Kingman’ cowboy hat, and my first rifle, a Ruger .22, and he taught me how to shoot it, and maintain it. My Pa taught me to muck stalls, Matthew along with me. Pa taught us both to ride horses, to inspect and repair fences, and other practical things. Some of Matthew’s peers sneered at him for doing chores that ‘shoulda‘ been done by hired hands; but only behind his back (and mine).

Mister Blackman taught us both to track coyotes and other predators. He mentored us educating us about keeping tallies, how to balance an accounting book, to keep an eye on future profits, and to not overgraze the land. Pa and Mister Blackman, taught us different methods to read brands, and recognize different breeds of cattle and horses. ‘Nanna’ taught me, and to a lesser degree Matthew, how to cook, clean, and do laundry. Pa taught Matt and me how to drive trucks, off road more than on, and also how to operate a tractor.

I suppose there were rumors about my Momma, also about the special treatment I received. I don’t recall hearing any on the Blackman Ranch, nor at school. Matthew was two months older than me, and he was earnest about protecting me from bullies when we were younger. By the time we were in junior high I was several inches taller, and more muscular than him. Although I respected the unspoken boundaries more than Matthew, I always had his back. Anyone who was foolish enough to take one of us on, would be faced by Both of us. Occasionally, I would discretely deter potential problems that could have gotten Matthew in a controversial situation.

Mostly we were good boys, we rarely got into trouble at school, we did do a few foolish things, mostly we indulged in the great outdoors. Climbing hills, then mountains, tracking, hunting, riding, learning to rope, taught by my Pa. For two mostly good boys, we got into more than our share of fist fights, mostly protecting other kids from bullies. Perhaps we sought out opportunities to do so more than we should have.

Together we played baseball, basketball, and pee wee football, our real love was rodeo. We were both somewhat involved with 4H and the FFA (Future Farmers of America). Only the various hunting seasons would cause us to skip a rodeo event, and then only occasionally. Matthew was the better Bull Rider, while I was a bit better than him at Busting Broncs. I would like to claim we were champions, however, although we each won an occasional Blue Ribbon or Belt Buckle, more often we were simply solid competitors.

It was enough to make us popular with the girls in school; not as popular as the Star Quarterback Peter Rickles, but we never lacked for dates. Up though junior high Anna Blackman was our frequent chaperone, and cheering section at every rodeo. I think it was her urging that prompted Mister Blackman to come watch his son compete on occasion; even my Pa attended a few events, including the one where I won my biggest cash prize and a shiny commemorative belt buckle!

On September 11^th 2001 Matthew had just recently turned eight, I was still seven-years-old for another month and a half. We didn’t really understand what had happened, no one we knew had any connection to anyone who died that day in the attacks. Of course, living in the Heartland, we were aware of the patriotism. Since the 1980’s, joining the Army, or another branch of the armed forces was a common way for a high school graduate to pay for a college education, or to learn technical skills, or just to get away; even some of the girls.

Adam, Matthew’s older brother, changed, he became even more mature, and really buckled down to focus on his academics. When he graduated in the Spring of 2003, he had already committed to attending the University of Colorado at Boulder, he majored in Geological Engineering, instead of Agricultural Sciences, as Mister Blackman expected; Adam got a full scholarship through R.O.T.C. and his father sure was proud when he graduated.

In the Fall of 2007, Second Lieutenant Adam Blackman went to Fort Benning, Georgia, to attend the Officer Basic Course for Infantry. He deployed to Iraq in the Spring of 2009, as an Infantry Platoon Leader. His parents were concerned, but Matthew and I thought his video chats and other stuff he sent from Iraq were pretty cool. Adam spent most of fifteen months based at a FOB in northern Iraq, in the Kurdish territory.

(FOB: Forward Operating Base a fortified instillation containing a couple hundred American soldiers or Marines, to sometimes as many as tens of thousands of American and Coalition soldiers, sailors, aviators, and Marines.)

Despite the media sensationalism, similar to the majority of those who deployed, Adam came back to the USA safely. In June of 2010 he came home on Post Deployment Leave. To me, Adam had always been serious, reserved; now he seemed more like my Pa, stone faced and taciturn. Despite that, when he joined us at a couple of rodeos, he was really popular with the girls. Most of the guys in our high school practically hero worshiped him.

So, in April of 2011, once both Matt and I were seventeen and a half, we joined Alpha Company, the First battalion of the 157^th Infantry Regiment (Mountain), of the Colorado National Guard. Not much changed, we remained committed to our rodeo activities more than studying for school, we graduated none-the-less, and actually with decent grades. Our chain of command, in particular our Platoon Sergeant Michael Sackett, made crystal clear our ability to serve would be determined by whether we graduated, and not just coasting along and getting merely the minimum GPA to get a diploma.

The summer after our graduation we started competing at a higher level at the rodeos, and faced much tougher competition than we had generally faced before. That summer neither of us won a significant prize. We also missed a couple of events due to having to attend Drill Weekends with the National Guard; also, we spent our fifteen days of Annual Training attending a ‘Pre-basic’ course. We still had fun competing in various rodeo events, and never lacked for female companionship when we desired it.

In the Fall of 2011, we began attending classes at Aims Community College, in nearby Greely, Colorado. We did not sign up for classes in the Winter Quarter, because instead, in February of 2012, we departed for Fort Benning, Georgia, to attend OSUT (One Station Unit Training: Basic and AIT: Advanced Individual Training) for Infantry. Due to our time in service in the Colorado Army National Guard, we were already E-2’s, and in April, were automatically promoted to Privates First Class, Pay Grade E-3.

‘Nanna’ Blackman surprised us by flying out to attend our graduation from AIT. We took some ribbing from our fellow graduates, but we were wise to accept her invitation to treat us to a celebratory dinner. She made reservations at Mabella’s Italian Steakhouse in nearby Columbus. Matt and I really enjoyed our steak dinners, and ‘Nanna’ got a baked rigatoni; we all shared a bit of each other’s dinner. It was the amazing Cheesecake, the best any of us had ever had, that I remember most! She also arraigned for our us to be upgraded to First Class for the flight to Denver. We arrived home before the end of May, and had already signed up online for several rodeos.

We spent most of that summer in a saddle, either working at the ranch, or practicing for rodeos, or competing in them. Despite our efforts, we did not become rodeo stars, although we were serious competitors, and each won several prizes, especially when competing at some smaller events. Because we had started the season late, we were behind the eight ball a bit. It meant we were not in competition for some seasonal prizes, and disqualified from some of the later events that depended upon winning, or at least placing well during earlier events we had missed.

Although we did not have to attend Annual Training, due to the several months spent on Active Duty attending Basic and AIT, we volunteered to participate in a 15-day Mountain Warfare Course at Fort Carson, during the end of August. Both of us, and many of our fellow students found the training to be intense, as well as exhilarating. Most of our instructors were veterans of combat in Afghanistan. While we learned some aspects of technical climbing, we were not being trained as mountaineers, but to fight and win at high altitudes and challenging terrain.

Immediately after finishing that training we were back to attending classes at Aims Community College. We took some classes together, I was using my GI Bill, and other programs from the Guard to pay for classes focused on agriculture and ranching, planning on earning an Associates Degree. Matthew was planning on getting an Associates Degree for transfer to the University of Norther Colorado, also in Greely, to earn a Bachelor’s Degree in Business Administration.

I figured it would take me at least three years, maybe more to take all the classes I wanted to, and the military would pay for just about all of it. Matthew figured it would probably take him at least five years to get his degree, but Mister Blackman was willing to pay for whatever the Army didn’t, since he approved of Matt’s plan. Also, we continued to work on the ranch, at least when we were home; it pleased Mr. Blackman, and earned us some extra spending money. It was a good thing we got a stipend as part of our GI Bill, because we spent more money on gear, and other expenses than we earned during a weekend Drills with the National Guard.

Matthew and I shared an apartment in Greely while we were attending college, it made it convenient to attend classes, provided a place to study, and was an advantage for entertaining girls. Matt paid a bit more money, and I spent a bit more time cooking and cleaning. Many of the girls who we invited over commented favorably that we weren’t slobs, like most other dudes are. Although we had plenty of fun, we spent a lot more time and effort studying than we had during high school.

2013 started off awesome! To celebrate New Year’s, we spent ten days skiing and snowboarding at Copper Mountain ski resort, and nine nights in a two-bedroom unit in the Timber Creek condos, in the Center Village, where we could ski right up to the lobby, or the bar. Most important was the abundance of Snow Bunnies, who were attracted to our fit bodies; having full wallets allowed us to be able to afford to buy them meals and drinks, in particular adult beverages (alcohol), which was expected at a luxury resort.

Our New Year’s vacation had been partially paid for by ‘Nanna’ Blackman. She had made the reservations when we graduated from the Infantry course, getting a great discount, subtly teaching us another lesson about being savvy shoppers; to plan well ahead, and obtain a significant discount. So, we each had to pay only $2,500.00. Food and drinks were out of our pocket, but rental of skis, snowboards, and some refresher lessons were part of the package.

We arrived around noon on Friday, the 29^th of December, partied pretty much the whole time we were there. I don’t know how, or where, but Matthew had obtained some fake IDs for both of us, claiming he was 24, and I was 23, they used our actual birthdays, but different years. Whoever made them, they were good, because we never got busted using them. They were our passports to the hot spots where we could find the most attractive women; having a decent wardrobe was also essential; our attire was that of financially secure, if young, ranchers, not typical frat boys.

Matthew was definitely a better skier and snowboarder than I was, but I had better luck picking up women and girls, mostly Co-Eds. A couple of days after New Year’s, we got hit on by a pair of Cougars that resulted in a very interesting night! Those women gave us an education in how to please a partner. Although I was tired, Matthew had too much to drink on our last day at the resort, so I drove his fancy truck all the way to our apartment in Greely. We barely got any sleep that night, in fact Matt fell asleep in class that first Monday.

Despite focusing more on having fun, and getting ready for the rodeo season, we took our classes, and our studying serious enough to each maintain a 3.0 average or better in both the Winter and Spring quarters. Our rodeo season started out well, and we both won some prizes, but then we made a fateful decision. In April, we got promoted to the rank of Specialist, pay grade E-4, we also decided, with a couple other guys to volunteer to be augmentees to the 1^st BN 12^th INF 4^th BCT 4^th ID to deploy to Afghanistan.

(1^st Battalion 12^th Infantry Regiment 4^th Brigade Combat Team of the 4^th {“Ivy”}Infantry Division)

We were assigned to Bravo Company, although we received some harassment about being members of the “Nasty Guard” and from “Fort Home” Matthew and I soon earned some respect during our pre-deployment training. We were both very fit, due to my size I was assigned an M249 SAW (Squad Automatic Weapon) that weighs more than twice as much as an M-16A4, or an M-4 carbine. Due to his superior skill as a marksman, Matt eventually earned the responsibility of being one of the designated sharpshooters, and was issued an M2010 Enhanced Sniper Rifle.

Fortunately, Matthew and I were skilled hunters, in great physical shape, and had exceptional endurance, because our pre-deployment training was intense. Mostly conducted by experienced NCOs (Sergeants), who had participated in multiple deployments to Afghanistan, Iraq, and elsewhere. At first both of us had some catching up to do, especially practicing combat drills. Although both of us were good shots, hunting deer, or varmints, we had to improve our ‘reflex firing’ techniques.

Despite being experienced stalkers while hunting, and acclimatized to hunting in the mountains of Colorado, we were not used to lugging around all of the gear typical of a modern American infantryman. An IOTV (Improved Outer Tactical Vest), with SAPI (Small Arms Protective Inserts) plates, along with ammo, an IFAK (Individual First Aid Kit), camelback water bladder, and other essential gear, not to mention an ACH (Advanced Combat Helmet), and assigned weapon, all together weighed from fifty to seventy pounds on average.

At first, they guys in our company nicknamed us “Ebony and Ivory” eventually they settled on calling me Bull, and they called Matthew, Matador. During the initial phases of training, we, like many other guys got moved around a bit, until the Battle Roster got settled, mostly. When they decided that I would be a SAW gunner, I was assigned to the 2^nd Squad of the 3^rd Platoon, of Bravo Company.

When he returned from the Sniper course, Matt became a designated marksman, assigned to the Third Platoon Headquarters, along with Sergeant Keselowski. ‘Ski’ was the Team Leader, but since Matt was a significantly better shot, ‘Ski’ was the Observer. ‘Ski’ was “Regular” (Active Duty) Army, and according to the guys, a “Lifer” he was twenty-three-years-old, and had deployed to “The Stan” twice before; he also had a good sense of humor.

My Squad Leader, Staff Sergeant Camelot, was twenty-seven, but he seemed older, he had a wife and two kids, and had deployed to Iraq, twice, and had two more deployments to Afghanistan. This would be his fifth combat deployment and he was just short of his tenth year in the Army. I heard that he had been wounded at least twice.

Our Platoon Sergeant, Sergeant First Class Allen was of mixed race, and one of the few guys in our platoon as large as I am. He shaved his head bald, and intimidated just about everyone but the Lieutenant; which seemed odd according to most of the movies I had seen about the military. Platoon Sergeant Allen also had a wicked sense of humor, even if it was often concealed by his gruff manner.

Our Platoon Leader was Second Lieutenant Teague, according to Matt, his family owns a ranch too, near some little town with a funny name, Ellensburg, in Washington State. He too was in his mid, or late twenties, and he had the respect of most of the men. He had deployed to Afghanistan as an enlisted man before he was offered the opportunity to attend OCS (Officer Candidate School), I heard he had already completed a couple of years of college before he signed up. Like Matt’s older brother Adam, our Lieutenant had attended Ranger School, and wore the tab above his unit patch. His Combat Patch on his right shoulder was the distinctive ‘Indian Head’ of the Second Infantry Division.

My Team Leader was Sergeant Herrera (‘Tex’), and my team mates were Specialist Chen (‘Chink’), and PFC Anderson (‘Stink’). Sergeant Schwartz (‘Tater’ or ‘Snake’ he was from Idaho, but it was only the other NCOs that used either nickname) led our B Team, consisting of Specialist Kellerman (‘Killer’), and PFC Hussey (‘Hussy’), and PFC Johnson (‘Jersey’). About two thirds of our Infantry Company were veterans and had earned their CIB (Combat Infantryman’s Badge), including every NCO (Non-Commissioned Officer) Sergeants, Staff Sergeants, etc.

In my squad all of the Privates First Class were fresh from OSUT for Infantry at Fort Benning. Specialist Chen had gained his rank because he had completed three years of college; he joined the Army because of a program to pay off ten thousand dollars of college loan debt. Chen was born in Utah, where his family had lived for more than a hundred years, although they weren’t Mormons, he had been studying computer science at BYU, and planned to use his GI Bill to earn his Masters Degree; he had been a member of Bravo Company for about seven months. ‘Tex’ was pretty chill for an NCO, none of his soldiers, including me, had been in combat yet.

Usually, the more experienced Team Leader, Sergeant Schwartz, would have been assigned the majority of the FNG’s (Fucking New Guys), but ‘Killer’ (Specialist Kellerman) a veteran of two deployments was headstrong and mouthy, sometimes even to the NCOs, and ‘Jersey’ was not the sharpest crayon in the box, so they were both assigned to the toughest and most experienced Team Leader in the Platoon. I suspected there was something not quite right about PFC Hussey, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Hussey was a veteran, but had been reduced in rank and transferred to our unit before Matt and I were assigned to Bravo Company.

Staff Sergeant Camelot displayed his confidence in ‘The Snake’ by spending more of his time with our Fire Team. Although he demonstrated attention to detail, and conducted thorough PCCs & PCIs (Pre-Combat Checks & Pre-Combat Inspections), he stayed in ‘his lane’ of directing the fire and movement of both Fire Teams, and coordinating with the other elements of our platoon; allowing each of the Team Leaders to go about their duties in their own manner.

After the first thirty days, when they locked down the Battle Roster, our squad remained stable, unlike some others that had to make changes due to injuries or other issues. That allowed us to focus on preparing for combat, and not have to make personnel changes that disrupted the training cycle. Matthew and I were soon accepted by the other members of our platoon; many other Guardsmen were not.

Off duty, Matthew and I usually chilled out with Specialist Chen and PFC Anderson. Once, on a four-day weekend, Matthew invited them to stay at the Blackman Ranch. We all enjoyed some home cooked meals; neither Chen nor Anderson had ever ridden a horse, so we taught them the basics. Matthew was assigned to be the Platoon Leader’s Humvee driver, mostly because the Lieutenant’s RTO was a terrible driver, but also because they shared a similar background. I suspect they occasionally chatted.

When we first deployed in September 2014 to FOB (Forward Operating Base) Pasad, in Kandahar province, Afghanistan, it was brutally hot. As we were told to expect, hostile forces tested us, as they usually do any time a unit rotates into an area. It was thrilling, and some of us were foolish enough to enjoy the excitement. Exotic people, harsh, but sometimes stunning landscapes, occasionally we sampled the local food. The music was crappy, but occasionally haunting. Matthew and I had volunteered for this because we wanted to experience these things, and to test ourselves as men, as well as fighting the enemies of the USA!

We conducted some mounted patrols in vehicles, and others we conducted on foot. Mostly we were supposed to be mentoring and supporting local Afghani forces. ForcePro, force protection, manning the towers, and duty at the ECPs (Entry Control Points: ‘gates’), FOB Pasad guarded Kandahar airbase, that was vital logistical hub for US and coalition forces. It didn’t take long for the weather to turn cooler; it was almost pleasant, other than the stink.

Matthew, I, and some of the other young soldiers were actually having quite a bit of fun, even some of the NCOs and officers seemed to be enjoying the adventure. Staff Sergeant Camelot and Sergeant Schwartz kept us focused, and tried to prevent us from becoming complacent. IEDs (Improvised Explosive Devices), and the occasional attacks by snipers, mortars, and rockets were constant threats.

I thought we were prepared for the wintertime, having grown up in northern Colorado. Matthew and I had gone hunting plenty of times in the Rocky Mountains, more than a mile above sea level. Fortunately, we were well equipped, and well trained. The locals, including some of the insurgents were also used to the climate and terrain too, so again they tested us; perhaps they hoped some of our advanced technology would not work as well in these inclement conditions. Again, we passed the test, at least no one in Bravo Company had died, or been seriously wounded in combat.

Dissimilar to the experiences of most other soldiers in wars throughout time immemorial, we were able to call home at least once a week. If we chose, we could even video chat using our computers and a satellite link. It was yet another dichotomy between this ancient land and us. Matt and I missed Thanksgiving and Christmas on the Blackman Ranch for the first time ever. Certainly, our New Year’s celebrations were nothing like last year. We were past the halfway point of this deployment.

With the coming of Spring, the operational tempo increased once more. Mortar and rocket attacks increased, as did ambushes using IEDs (Improved Explosive Devices), and sniper attacks. We became more aggressive as well, sending out more patrols, even setting overnight ambushes targeting locations where the insurgents might conduct mortar or rocket attacks upon our FOB, the Kandahar airbase, or facilities used by the Afghan National Police and Afghan Army.

Our squad often went on joint patrols with units of the Afghan Army or National Police. We got such taskings more often because we had fewer black troops than several of the other platoons. I had been briefed about it, and it did not really bother me, it’s not like I wanted to become a buddy to any of the Hajis, even if they were supposed to be on our side. As far as I could tell, the “friendly” Afghanis weren’t any more hostile to me than they were to any other American soldier.

Surprisingly, Sergeant Schwartz was conversant in Dari; but most of the Afghans we worked with on this deployment were Pashtuns. Staff Sergeant Camelot and our Platoon Sergeant, Sergeant First Class Allen could both make themselves pretty well understood to the Pashtun troops, but they often had to get the Hajis to slow down when they spoke if they wanted to be able to understand them. At least we weren’t completely dependent upon the “Terps” (Interpreters).

All of us had to be trained in some basic words and phrases, such as put down your gun, show me your hands, do you need water, and, do you need medical care. Some of the guys learned more Pashtun, Arabic, or Dari, beyond what was required in pre-deployment training. Other than some curse words, I didn’t bother trying to improve my language skills. Some of our fellow American Soldiers or Marines made a real effort to learn about the history and culture of this ancient land, and its diverse people; Neither Matt, nor I made an effort to do so.

On Sunday night, the 8^th of June 2014, our Platoon, along with elements of the Afghan Army set up to ambush insurgent forces. Our chain of command chose locations that Taliban or other insurgent forces might use to try to rocket nearby coalition forces, about ten kilometers north of Kandahar airbase. As was often the case, we had no enemy contact. We were on our way back down to the base when a radio call informed us that our First Platoon, some kilometers to the west of us, had encountered a possible IED. They had been conducting a patrol similar to ours, and they too were mentoring an Afghan army platoon.

Further complicating the situation, they suspected there were some insurgent forces on a higher ridgeline to their east. Due to the rising sun, it was difficult for them to be sure. They had requested a drone or helicopter to assist them by trying to get “eyes on” but for some reason that was going to take a while. They did not want to remain static, nor was there a good alternate route out of their current location. Fortunately, the suspected insurgent observer, trigger man, or sniper, was between our location and theirs. We could approach from the enemies’ east, making it difficult for them to detect us.

Our Platoon Leader, Second Lieutenant Teague issued a hasty FRAGO (Fragmentary Operations Order), he designated our location an In-Route Rally Point, ordering us to ground our rucks and other extraneous gear; so, we could expeditiously move to a location to overwatch the First Platoon as they attempted to neutralize the suspected IED. ‘Ski’ Sergeant Keselowski and ‘Matador’ my “Brother from Another Mother”, Specialist Matthew Blackman would leave their rucks with the guys in the Platoon Headquarters.

“Ski” and ‘Matador’ would move quickly to try to “glass” (observe with optics: binoculars, sniper’s scope, and observers spotting scope) the area(s) of any suspected insurgents. Our squad would be their back up. The rest of our platoon, and our Afghan “allies” would prepare to follow us just in case the Taliban or other insurgents happened to be in the area in force, despite neither of our patrols having an encounter overnight.