I will never forget when Kabul fell to the Taliban on Aug. 15, 2021.
Like millions of Americans, I watched the television in disbelief at the horrific images of thousands of Afghans surging the Kabul airport, some attempting to cling to a U.S. military plane, as the Taliban entered the capital. Those desperate men who made it onto the wings at takeoff plunged to their deaths — and the entire world was forced to watch.
Even from thousands of miles away, Afghans’ panic was palpable as those who were left behind realized what Taliban rule meant for the country — especially for women and children and those who worked for the former government and with U.S. officials.
Their cries for help soon reached my own door as a whirlwind of surging requests for expedited visas, access to the Kabul airport, and military extraction flooded our congressional office. It was like nothing we had experienced before. There was no training to prepare us for the days, weeks, and months ahead.
“I feel like I’ve cried every tear there is to cry,” Rep. Jody Hice (R-GA) said at the time.
Indeed, there were times when we sobbed because of the things we were hearing. People who were in hiding with their children and starving waiting for us to tell them to go to the airport. Reports of marks on their doors, which is the Taliban’s way of saying, “There’s something we want inside, and we’re coming back to get it.” What was inside? Terrified little girls.
We were receiving almost in-the-moment reports of families being beaten, of Americans being dragged away, of people outside the airport gates desperate to get inside, and of Christians who were being hunted down by the Taliban.
For the first few days, we were pushing paper and sending congressional inquiries to the State Department — but to no avail. Then, suddenly everything changed. On Saturday, Aug. 21, I awoke to a text at 5:47 a.m. It was from a pastor, who said:
Very sorry to message so early. Just got a call — a group of Taliban is coming to Kabul for them, they’ve been exposed. A relative broke down under torture. They think that they have about 8-10 hours. All of them are together in one location. 22 people in total. 15 minutes from the airport. Just need gate access from the military on site.That text kicked our efforts into high gear. We realized that we were mostly on our own — the State Department would offer little help. Indeed, it sometimes seemed like they knew less than we did about what was taking place in Kabul.
I found myself with Hice in a classroom at Georgia Military College where we created our own “situation room,” and for hours, we navigated these difficult circumstances. I’m happy to say that this group did make it inside the airport gates.
We then began working with veteran volunteer rescue teams, prayer warriors, and Army wives, former CIA agents and operatives, people who had contact with those in Afghanistan, and others who had intelligence that was enormously helpful. And we began to save lives.
“There is a bus full of [American citizens] and green card holders at a gas station near the northwest gate of HKIA,” I wrote in a group text with Hice and our chief of staff, Tim. It was 8:00 p.m. on Wednesday, Aug. 25, and we’d been communicating around the clock. “Been there for over an hour unable to proceed. They are sitting ducks.”
“Am hearing the same thing,” Hice replied. “The [Taliban] is randomly allowing some through and preventing others, while our military apparently has been ordered to not engage.”
“Jess, do we have anyone of our people remaining at the gates? Because if we do, we should re-up our alert to leave,” texted Tim.
It was the beginning of another rescue mission that involved multiple members of Congress, communications with outside sources, numerous calls and emails to the State Department, and a few more sleepless nights. Despite providing names, including those of four unaccompanied children whose mother was in the United States doing all she could to reunite with them, birth dates, phone numbers, coordinates, and pleas to help navigate them to safety, the State Department did little to help. And the situation became more dire with frequent attacks and the evacuation window for Hamid Karzai International Airport quickly approaching its close.
Twenty-seven hours later in the middle of the night, as the State Department was asking for information we had repeatedly provided, our network of volunteers sent a celebratory text containing a photo of the children behind the airport gate.
“They’re SAFE!!! All pax!!!” reported a cherished contact with whom we had been closely working.
It was perfect timing with our friends on the ground. A volunteer rescue effort, which was already underway, swung by and scooped up our stranded passengers. The State Department never called nor offered them guidance.
One year later, our congressional office continues to work on behalf of the handful of U.S. citizens and scores of Afghan allies, who, in life-or-death desperation contacted our office but were left behind. We are thankful for these amazing stories of rescue and the privilege of meeting some of the Afghan refugees we helped guide to safety. But we also have deep regret because there were many who didn’t make it out — they were colleagues, allies, and patriots in arms.
Many Americans have returned to their day-to-day lives, giving little thought to the events of last summer. But we must not forget President Joe Biden’s botched withdrawal from Afghanistan. It was a senselessly chaotic and tragic betrayal, and far too many have been left for dead.
“I am very worried,” read a correspondence the congressman received just this week. “I have hidden myself in the basement of my house. I will be killed if they find me too.”
Jessica Hayes is the chief of staff for Rep. Jody Hice (R-GA).
