Jeff B. Harmon At War

As the third muj returns to the rampart, I set down my cameras, grab his AK-47 and load a fresh clip. Without a second’s thought, I cross the line separating a journalist from a combatant. To mujahideen cheers of “Sufi Jaffar!” (my nom de guerre), I run to the hill’s edge and shoot off a full load at the Soviet and Afghan army soldiers in the garrison below. I am filled with an exhilaration I have never felt as a journalist.