Jeff B. Harmon At War

I know in my heart that I will never see Haji Latif again. I cannot help but think of my grandfather Murray, such is my affection for Haji Baba. I will always remember Afghanistan’s version of Robin Hood, roaring with laughter, or shouting obscenities at children and old men alike when they fall into his disfavor.

Later on, I was to fall in Haji Baba’s disfavor. Goaded by the political leaders of MAHAZ who were offended by my film Jihad, my surrogate grandfather put a price on my head. But even that did not diminish my admiration for the old brigand.