The Wolves of Helmand: A View from Inside the Den of Modern Warfare. Frank “Gus” Biggio. Forefront Books, 2020.

War memoirs have a long and distinguished history. They are often written to preserve history or to cement the victors’ preferred version of events. Sometimes, as Karl Marlantes said of his own writing, they are written to help other warriors or, even the author, to make sense of the experience and share lessons learned.[1] The Wolves of Helmand, a memoir of the author’s deployment to Afghanistan, captures one warrior’s story of engaging in combat, both physical and cultural. Afghanistan has often defied comprehension by the non-native and Frank Biggio’s stories contribute to a better understanding of that culture—so different from America’s—and how U.S. military forces engaged with it.  

In this book, Biggio’s purpose is stated directly in his subtitle, “a view from inside the den of modern warfare.” Biggio recounts the highlights of his seven-month deployment in 2009 to Afghanistan as a reservist supporting 1st Battalion, 5th Marines. The unit was assigned to the district of Nawa, in the southern Afghanistan province of Helmand where the Taliban were devastating the country in attempts to topple the fledgling U.S.-installed government. 

The narrative benefits from the author’s previous stint in the Marines Corp; from 1993 to 1997, Biggio was an infantry officer. After the events of 9/11, Biggio felt compelled to join the fight, which he did by affiliating with the Marine Reserves as a member of a Civil Affairs team. His thorough knowledge of infantry tactics was a clear advantage in his new role, which required him to patrol regularly to build relationships with the local populace. He embraced the Marines’ penchant for preparedness, and strict attention to detail and to duty. He reflects that “it was the Corps that ingrained in me a sense of collective duty and responsibility…[Marines are] unapologetically patriotic, equal parts profane and polite, and have an air of confidence bordering on arrogance that sets them apart from other services and the population at large. It’s a special tribe, and I was proud to be a member.”[2]

That pride is evident in his compelling observations captured in the chapter titled “That First Night.” Biggio clearly outlines the tactical decisions made by the battalion to signal that a new sheriff has just replaced the previous coalition force, a much smaller British unit that did not patrol as routinely or as widely as is Marine Corps practice. His prose is clear, the pacing taut.  The chapter is short—only 6 pages long—but it dramatically sets the stage for subsequent events. 

As entertaining as his observations are, the unique insights of this memoir are those on the role of civil affairs. Civil Affairs have long been an essential, if overlooked, requirement of war rarely featured in memoirs. Civil Affairs conceptually encompasses all human activity in a battle space, but priority is placed on security and other basic necessities of the populace. In the most extreme situations, it can require military forces to provide an interim government until those functions can be resumed by the locals. More often, civil affairs operators work with the indigenous population to coordinate their safe movement through the battlespace, identify culturally-significant spaces requiring protection, identifying and coordinating local resources, connecting key leaders to other governmental and non-governmental agencies in the region.

Biggio carefully provides a foundation for the Civil Affairs discussion by explaining the challenges of counterinsurgency operations in which his unit participates. He comments, “It would be an easy shortcut to summarize the objectives of COIN with a clichéd phrase about ‘winning hearts and minds.’ In some sense, that’s an apt description…One former Army officer pointed out that the images most likely to make the evening news [were]…images of military construction crews and clinics opening in remote villages...Those non-kinetic efforts were part of how COIN battles were won.”[3] The infantry Marines provided a secure environment for the Nawa residents while the 7-man Civil Affairs team built close ties with the locals and attempted to determine which of their additional needs could be met with resources provided by the U.S. military. A counterinsurgency effort is often treacherous, as the Marines wrestle with identifying an enemy who has no uniform or other distinguishing elements to separate him from the people they are sworn to defend. The Marines are required to exercise “courageous restraint” when evaluating the threat posed by locals, who might or might not be Taliban.[4]

Detecting the Taliban or other insurgents among the other Afghans is a concern repeatedly expressed by Biggio. In fact, he nearly shoots two Nawa policemen in Chapter 7 as they approach the police station, out of uniform but sporting numerous weapons. Overall, Biggio paints a sympathetic picture of the indigenous population, outlining the last 170 years of Afghan-American relations, observing that the Afghan existence in 2009 is largely unchanged in the interim.[5]  He is much more critical of those who should be supporting the locals, such as the Nawa police. Biggio notes, “None of them ever had much—if any—formal police training. It seemed that the main qualifications for a Nawa cop was to be a friend of a friend of the shady police chief and to have an ability to withstand the mundane daily routine at this obscure outpost.”[6]

The Marines received training in Pashtun, the local language, but Biggio is happy to have access to the interpreters contracted to support the Marines. Although arriving with various motivations, he notes that they are irreplaceable to the mission: “They were an essential bridge between the Marines and the residents of Nawa.”[7] Frequently, the interpreters become the trusted agent at the outpost to whom the locals bring critical, even life-saving information.  Biggio argues that in the 21st century, “With a gun and a radio, you can fight a war. With a[n interpreter], you can command hundreds of Afghan soldiers, have a tea-time conversation with a tribal leader, or understand what makes a local farmer tick. And, you can win a war.”[8]

The titular story of the Helmand wolves illustrates the distinctiveness of Afghan culture.  Afghans have a tribal code known as Pastunwali and are famous for their obligation of hospitality to strangers. Confusingly for Biggio, the code doesn’t require honesty when dealing with outsiders. Biggio meets many locals trying to receive financial compensation on the slimmest of pretexts; he begins to suspect every Afghan of cheating. One supplicant claims that his cow was consumed—all but the tail—by the “famous” wolves that the author has never seen or heard. This story is quickly juxtaposed against that of the honest man who delivers more than expected. Surprising Biggio, the honest man does not blame Biggio for his doubts; he declares he wouldn’t trust another Afghan, either.[9]  Biggio’s reporting of his experiences—good, bad and embarrassing—keeps the reader moving forward and provides a fuller picture of the culture.

I was struck by the difference between this recent tale and Vietnam-era memoirs. This account was one of martial success, and does not convey the severe alienation, disorientation, and even despair that saturates those earlier memoirs. I recently read Everything We Had, an oral history of 33 Americans who served in Vietnam, compiled by Al Santoli. Those stories contained many disturbing details which gave the book an immediacy that Biggio’s tale lacked.

Deviations from the war story to his personal life and family feel awkward. While it may be an accurate portrayal of how personal matters crop up in a service member’s mind in uncontrolled ways, the switch of topics can be distracting to the reader. 

Overall, Biggio conveys a great deal of information in a compact, highly-readable form. He touches lightly, but from the heart, on serious topics which makes this an accessible book for even the least militarily-savvy reader. An informed reader will appreciate the tale, while less-knowledgeable readers will enjoy gaining a broad understanding of the events without having to consult references.

Emily Elder Swain is a retired Marine Corps logistician who loves to read.

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Header Image: Regimental Combat Team 3, Nawa District, Afghanistan 2009 (Cpl. John McCall).

Notes:

[1] Karl Marlantes, What It Is Like To Go To War (Grove Press, New York, 2011), xi.

[2] Frank Biggio, The Wolves of Helmand:  A View from Inside the Den of Modern War (Forefront Books, 2020), 26.

[3] Ibid., 56.

[4] Ibid., 141.

[5] Ibid., 67.

[6] Ibid., 77.

[7] Ibid., 107.

[8] Ibid., 108.

[9] Ibid., 166.