Always faithful A story of the war in Afghanistan, the fall of Kabul, and the unshakable bond between a Marine and an interpreter

The U.S. Marine motto, Semper fidelis (always faithful), is truly personified by the unlikely friendship between the son of a hippie cop on Chicago's South Side who found his calling as a combat leader in the marines and a Pashtun man from Kunar who worked as a military interpreter who dreamed of a free and modern Afghanistan. In their parallel memoir, each recounts his story before they met, during their service together fighting the Taliban in Helmand province, rebuilding their lives after a very violent tour of duty, and reconnecting to get Zaki out of danger when the Afghan government abruptly collapsed in August 2021. Shedding blood, sweat, and tears on the battlefield and burying comrades together formed a brotherhood between the two men that led to their working zealously together to overcome bureaucratic obstacles in the U.S. and corruption in Afghanistan, culminating in a harrowing journey out of the country for Zaki and his family. This tense and riveting true-life thriller will leave readers with an enduring respect for both men as Schueman and Zaki bring to life America's legacy in Afghanistan and the debt owed to our allies there who risked their lives to support our mission in the hope of a brighter future for their long-beleaguered country.

A Marine officer moves heaven and earth to bring his interpreter to the U.S. from Afghanistan. Schueman's memoir, jointly written with in-country interpreter Zaki, opens with a death threat, as a Taliban militiaman threatens Zaki: "We are coming for you, infidel." He had good reason to take the threat seriously, for, as Schueman notes, the statistics are grim. "Advocates for Afghan interpreters," he writes, "put the number assassinated by the Taliban over the course of the war somewhere between 300 and 1,000." For all his faithful service, which saved the lives of many Americans in the field, Zaki faced formidable bureaucratic hurdles. For one thing, his term as what is called "mission essential personnel" was supposed to last for a year, but he fell short by a couple of months even though he worked as an interpreter for three years. The recommendation for a visa also had to come from a general officer, though Schueman, working every angle, found a workaround. Still, it took some potentially career-ending skulduggery, recruiting high-powered allies and building a strong network among the brass, to move Zaki ahead in line. The Taliban threat continued to the very end as he and his family tried to get inside the gates of the Kabul airport. Schueman makes a strong case in support of the argument that finally won Zaki his deliverance. "Zak was another attachment with a capability I needed, like a machine gunner or a sniper," he writes in the utilitarian way of a war fighter. For his part, Zaki wanted to go to the U.S. less to save his own life than to be able to make a living. "In Afghan culture," he writes, "a man's value is tied to how he provides for his family. If I could not do that in Afghanistan, I would have to try to do it somewhere else." An affecting memoir that weaves its way through bullets, explosives, and red tape. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.