Kunar Afghanistan 1985
I arrived back in Pakistan at the beginning of March in 1985. On my flight back in London British photojournalist John Gunston boarded the near empty plane heading to Pakistan, he was a blessing for he had been inside Afghanistan several times. He offered to split the cost of room at a local hotel he had reserved in Peshawar, Pakistan.
The hotel was also the site for a press conference in which Gulbuddin Hekmatyar leader of Hezb-e-Islami and Burhanuddin Rabbani who leaded Jamiat-e-Islami gave for the press. Rabbani who there with Mohammed Eshaq his political advisor who soke English whom I already knew and written to arrange travel into Afghanistan.
Days later a car picked me up, and I began my journey to the Afghanistan Pakistan border. It was part of an automobile caravan and spread out quite a distance. One of the cars ahead struck a child and I will never forget the anguish of the mother as she carried her child along the road. The caravan never stopped to assist. Ironically in Washington D.C. an American military officer shared a similar incident he had experience in the same tribal areas of Pakistan. The Pakistan military officer informed him they would be killed if they stopped.
After arriving at the Pakistan Afghanistan border, I waited. I had no knowledge of any of the languages and there were no people who spoke English. A group of Afghan Mujideen took me across the border and the reality of what I was doing hit me.
God had placed me here and I was not in control. Vitaly Smirnov, the Soviet ambassador to Pakistan warned that any photographers caught "illegally" inside Afghanistan would be "eliminated."
The Mujideen would stop to pray, and I would kneel and pray off to the side. We stopped for meals at homes along the trail eating communal meals, served by people who had nothing.
It quickly became apparent as we encountered various groups of men that two men would be with me for wherever my destination was to be. Crossing the mountain was a challenge, they made it easier even though there was never a conversation between us.
I had wanted to go to a village called Barikot in Northern Kunar Providence but told was that would not be possible because there was intense fighting around Barikot. I cannot tell you where I ended up, but I did watch the jets and hind helicopters flying north to Barikot.
Oh, and Asmar was not that far but Soviet troops had gained control of it.
