Growing Up Bin Laden - Jean P. Sasson [139]
Chapter 22
Jihad Vacation
OMAR BIN LADEN
As time passed, our bin Laden lives became even more bizarre. This was because my father’s passion for making Jihad appealed to people who were lost in life and had a longing for war, rather than with those who sought the ordinary pleasures of living. While some of the recruits were temporary visitors, their stay in Afghanistan more of a “Jihad vacation,” most of the soldiers quickly became addicted to the Jihadi life. They were seeking violent Jihad because they believed this was the purest cause for a Muslim. They felt that their lives had great meaning because they wanted to give that life to God.
Those young men became the companions of my father’s sons, exposing us to many strange happenings.
My father was always a source of awed conversation because his men were so overcome by his presence that they believed every little thing was a sign from God. One day several of the men were struck by a strange phenomenon. Each summer the birds of the region would flock to Kandahar on their migration. Arabs like birds, so we made special efforts to make the birds comfortable. My brothers and I even opened the glass above the door so that the birds had a nice place to nest. Once their eggs hatched into baby birds, they would leave. The men began to notice that one particular bird was a return visitor for several years in a row. She had a distinctive twelve-inch red tape on one of her legs. No other bird wore such a tag.
One of the soldiers speculated that the bird was being used by the Americans to track my father. Soon he decided that was not the case, but still there were many laughs about how a little bird repeatedly found my father’s home while the technically advanced American military could not.
There was a military trainer who was especially pleasant to me, always greeting me with a ready smile and offering a helping hand. I never heard his true family name, of course, because he was forbidden to use it, being known as Abu Zubair to everyone in my father’s army. Abu Zubair held a high-ranking position in my father’s organization, going back and forth between Kandahar and the training camp near Kabul.
There was one incident with Abu Zubair that I will never forget. He was the proud owner of a handsome black and white cow, which won him the envy of many soldiers because food and drink were so carefully rationed. Soon the cow gave birth to a male calf, which was another source of pleasure for Abu Zubair, for he had plans for the calf.
One night he suffered a bizarre nightmare. He dreamed that two of his soldiers had secretly milked his cow, taking the milk that belonged to the baby calf. The following morning he couldn’t get the dream out of his mind. Even after saying his first prayers of the day, the message of the dream still lingered. Abu Zubair called in another trainer, a man by the name of Abu Atta, and the two discussed the dream with great seriousness. Knowing that he couldn’t relax until he got to the bottom of the troubling business, Abu Zubair finally sent for the two men who had appeared in his dream.
The men appeared, visibly nervous.
Abu Zubair cleverly questioned them. He knew they were very superstitious. “Did you commit a sin last night?”
The soldier named Abu Walid broke down immediately, confessing that the two of them had sneaked into the cow shed to milk Abu Zubair’s cow. They had already drunk the evidence, so no one but the hungry calf would have known about the illegal milking were it not for Abu Zubair’s dream.
Of course, Abu Zubair was furious at the breach of trust and his punishment was severe. Both soldiers had to run up and down the mountains until they swore they had learned their lesson. Of course, word spread that if anyone committed a sin, God so favored my father’s work that He would alert his leaders as they slept.
There were other amusing stories. I remember when I accompanied my father and some of his highest lieutenants on a driving