Seale woman experienced ‘Ashley’s War’ for herself

For Kat Kaelin, “Ashley’s War: The Untold Story of a Team of Women Soldiers on the Special Ops Battlefield” is not just a book.

It describes a critical stage of her life.

Today, the former U.S. Army staff sergeant lives with her husband and three children in Seale, Ala., not far from the back gate of Fort Benning. At 28, she is out of the military and concentrating on family and school.

But less than five years ago she was selected to be part of an elite group of female soldiers to assist Special Operations missions in Afghanistan. Known as the Cultural Support Team, the women were attached to the 75^th Ranger Regiment and other elite units. Their job was to search and obtain information from the Afghan women and children during raids.

“These are the ‘Secret Squirrel’ guys who go out in the middle of the night and you don’t even know they are there,” she said.

Kaelin was right there with them, even though at the time there was an Army ban on women in combat. Most people didn’t know they were there and certainly didn’t know what they were doing.

Author Gayle Tzemach Lemmon told the story of the Cultural Support Team in a book published last year by HarperCollins. Fox 2000 and Reese Witherspoon have acquired the rights to turn it into a movie.

As the book is being released into paperback, Lemmon will speak Thursday night in Columbus as part of the National Infantry Museum Foundation Leadership Lecture Series.

The book centers on Ashley White, a member of the North Carolina National Guard. White was killed on Oct. 22, 2011, in Afghanistan’s Kandahar Province while on a raid with the 75th Ranger Regiment, headquartered at Fort Benning.

‘These women were me’

White and Kaelin grew close as they trained together and later deployed. Like White, Kaelin was a reservist. Raised in Elko, Nev., Kaelin was a recruiter in the Nevada National Guard when she volunteered for the Cultural Support Team.

“I hoped to see myself when I went to Fort Bragg,” Kaelin said. “I hoped to see women who were competitive and hungry and wanted something bigger than what their home units offered.”

Kaelin found that — and more.

“I am not trying to sound arrogant, but these women were me,” she said. “They pushed the limits. They did not take no for an answer. Now, that I look at it, we were not competing against one another. We were competing against ourselves. You had marathon runners, Ironman athletes, CrossFitters, studs.”

After White’s death, Lemmon was looking to do a magazine article when she realized she had enough material for a book. It turned out to be a New York Times best-seller that has also won critical acclaim.

“I realized after the first weekend speaking with Mr. and Mrs. White that it would be hard to contain the story in 2,000, 3,000 or even 4,000 words,” Lemmon said. “I also realized that it was a much bigger story than I had anticipated and really a slice of history about which we had no idea as a country.”

So, Kaelin and many others painted for Lemmon a picture of Ashley White, a young lieutenant from Ohio who was married just prior to deployment to an officer stationed at Fort Bragg.

“When we first met Gayle, our entire intention was if you are going to write a story about Ashley, you need to be absolutely true to what we did over there, who we were, who Ashley was and how we feel about the mission,” Kaelin said, “and we are not trying to prove this feminist point. We know our position on the battlefield and what our job was. And we don’t want it to come across as ‘I am a woman, I can do anything I want to.’ Because it wasn’t that way, at all.”

The integration of women into the special operations missions was not about gender, Kaelin said.

“It’s about your capability and if you can do the job correctly,” she said. “That’s how we won over the Rangers. It wasn’t about proving a point or ‘I am a badass, I am a woman.’”

And a big part of knowing that story is to know Ashley White, Kaelin said.

She tells a story that Lemmon describes in the book. The women were training at Fort Bragg prior to deployment, and several Rangers were there working with them. They were in a gym and had been through physical training and were “smoked,” Kaelin said.

There was a rope hanging from the ceiling, and the women had to climb it. The proper technique is to use your hands, arms, feet and legs. White climbed the rope with just her arms, muscling her way to the top.

Everyone in the gym stopped, Kaelin remembered.

“The instructors were, like, ‘There are some Rangers who can’t even do that,’” Kaelin said. “You would look at her and wouldn’t think she was that strong. I don’t want to compare her to a horse, but she was Mustang. She could just go.”

Forming a bond

The true friendship developed when they were on assignment to Kandahar, Kaelin said. Because of an injury to another soldier, Kaelin and White were paired together.

“I remember when we were getting on the plane and she was really nervous,” Kaelin said. “We were loading all of our stuff. She said, ‘I was looking forward to working with this other gal.’ And I was, ‘It will be fine. We will feel each other out.’ I told her, ‘I got your back.’”

The two women meshed while assisting the Ranger Regiment. Kaelin remembers their first raid and how nervous they both were.

“We had a list of everything we needed to do,” Kaelin said. “We would stand in front of each other and say, ‘Helmet, NODs (night optical device), radio, mags, weapon, pistol, bag of candy.”

As they left the camp and boarded the helicopters, Kaelin said it was a strange feeling.

“I can still smell it,” she said. “It’s hot and the s--- pond is right there. You can see these guys in front of you. This is badass. ... It’s frightening stuff. Two groups split for the birds. When we got inside, it’s like a can of whip ass. Jam packed.”

Kaelin said the professionalism she found in the Rangers and other elite units was unmatched in anything else she had experienced in the Army, including a deployment to Iraq.

“They want you to succeed,” she said. “It was not like a competition. They don’t want you to go out and be a liability and get somebody killed. They are going to train you and teach you everything you need to know. It’s kind of crazy when you think about it. These guys are homegrown country boys — chill, super friendly, down to earth.”

Lemmon said that was one of the things she found as she reported the book.

“I spent a lot of time in Columbus and Phenix City talking to Rangers and folks like Kat,” she said. “That community became part of the story. You began to understand the reach of that community, and how hard it was to go back and back and back to war.”

And what emerged was this story of service and sacrifice.

“I spent a lot of time with Ashley’s teammates and friends, and her amazing husband,” Lemmon said. “They all gave me a window on this young person who had been truly exceptional in her humility, her caring, her quiet strength, her genuine grit, and her very rare ability to make others feel that they could rise to any moment.

“Service was a motivator for her, and family and faith were at the center of who she was. For her, like for the rest of her teammates, it was never about proving a point — ever. It was about serving with purpose. And patriotism.”

‘Why are the lines black?’

About a month before White was killed, Kaelin was moved to another part of Afghanistan. She was working to get White to that area, but the need was just not there.

Kaelin can recall everything about the night she learned White had been killed.

“I was with a few of the Delta guys watching a movie, it was ‘Without a Paddle,’ something goofy,” she said. “It was on a TV they used as a computer. A notification came up on the corner. Said all lines are black. I said, ‘Check that out.’ I remember being like, ‘Why are the lines black?’ When the lines go black something bad has happened.”

One of the soldiers clicked on the message.

“It said Kandahar, 18 wounded in action, three severely wounded in action, three KIA,” Kaelin remembered. “Next to it, the KIA, it said, ‘Ranger, Ranger, CST.’ I knew it was Ashley. One of the Delta guys looked at me and said, ‘I am here if you need something.’ I told him, ‘I got to go,’ and I ran out of the area, and I remember it was raining.”

She went to another office where her Cultural Support Team teammate was on the phone.

“She looked at me, like ‘How do you know?’ Kaelin said. “Everyone was just staring at us. It was the most vulnerable, sick feeling I have ever had. I knew they cared. Everything just shut down. I felt out of control. I was, like, ‘She is supposed to be here.’ ... When the tears started they kept going.”

It started a difficult grieving process that Kaelin was unprepared for.

“With the Rangers, it is mission first — I got it,” she said. “I was sobbing. One told me if you are going to mourn, do it in your room. That, like, turned a switch. I was, like, I had to dump it. ‘OK, fine. I am going to do this. If that is what you guys do I am going to do it because I am not familiar with this.’”

One of her Delta Force friends went to his commander and told him he was worried about Kaelin.

“The commander and sergeant major of the Delta group I was working with took me inside their living quarters,” she said. “They talked to me like I was a human. ... ‘You are here by yourself. ... I don’t envy what you are going through right now. I want to let you know this is the stuff that happens. It is OK to be upset about it.’ ... I am so grateful for that conversation. It helped me process it and it didn’t come out later on.”

Kaelin is pleased that the story has been told and that many people now know about Ashley White — and when the movie is released, many more will know. Kaelin shared with Lemmon the conversations she had with White, and those helped the author form a large portion of the book’s opening chapter.

“She was the epitome of quiet professional; she didn’t even tell her parents what she was doing,” Kaelin said. “They didn’t have a clue what she was doing. That is why I am so grateful for the book and extremely grateful for Gayle. This is a big reason I am so forthcoming.”

At least two members of the Cultural Support Team have named their children after White. One of Kaelin’s good friends named her daughter Ashley. Kaelin took a little different rout.

“My middle daughter is Ivy Irene,” she said. “Ivy was Ashley’s middle name.”

This story was originally published April 9, 2016 at 10:33 PM with the headline "Seale woman experienced ‘Ashley’s War’ for herself."