The Ally He Couldn't Save: One Officer's Promise - The Power of a Promise
- No One Left Behind
- 1 hour ago
- 3 min read
During his second deployment to Afghanistan in 2014, Air Force officer Phil Caruso worked with an Afghan intelligence operative who collected information on behalf of the United States.
They never used his real name. Caruso still won't.
"He was the most courageous human being I've ever seen," Caruso says. "He was at risk and, in fact, in some cases even likely to be killed on a daily basis for the risks that he was taking."
The work this Afghan did was classified. The intelligence he gathered helped protect American forces. The risks he took were constant.
By the end of 2014, he was on the run from the Taliban across three Afghan provinces.
A Catch-22
Caruso knew what was coming. U.S. forces would eventually withdraw. When they did, this man who had risked everything for America would face even greater danger.
There were two pathways out. An intelligence community resettlement program, or the Special Immigrant Visa (SIV) program Congress created specifically for Afghans who served alongside U.S. forces.
The intelligence agency declined to help.
The SIV program required documentation showing the scope of his employment. The military couldn't provide the paperwork, given the classified nature of his work.
The ally who had collected intelligence that saved American lives was now trapped in a bureaucratic catch-22.
Navigating the System
Caruso spent months making calls. Writing letters. Trying to find someone, anyone, in the maze of agencies who could cut through the red tape.
"I just felt it was too important to tie it up in bureaucracy," he said. "It was just impossible to find that specific person at the agency who I could talk to, to kind of grease the skids and make this work."
By the time Caruso's deployment ended and he rotated home, nothing had moved forward.
After he left active duty, he lost access to the informant's contact information. His successors either couldn't or wouldn't push the case forward.
Phil Caruso doesn't know what happened to him.
But he has a sense.
The Weight of a Broken Promise
"My inability to help him is one of my greatest regrets," Caruso said years later.
America made a promise to this man. Work with us. Risk your life for us. We'll get you out.
The system broke that promise.
And Phil Caruso carries that failure still.
Turning Failure Into Action
In 2019, five years after that deployment, Caruso joined the Board of Directors for No One Left Behind.
He couldn't save one interpreter. So he's dedicated himself to saving the thousands after him.
This is the cost of broken promises. Not just to the allies we abandon, but to the veterans who served alongside them, who carry the weight of every ally left behind.
This promise is a debt.
And No One Left Behind exists because veterans like Phil Caruso refuse to let that debt go unpaid.
Somewhere, an Afghan intelligence operative who risked his life daily for the United States is either in hiding, or he's gone.
Phil Caruso will never forget him.
And neither should we.
This is the Power of a Promise.