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If you haven't been reading New York Times reporter, David Rhode's first-hand account of his abduction in Afghanistan by the Taliban, you can catch up here. It's fascinating and harrowing and discouraging, all at the same time:

I hoped that the Pakistanis might somehow rescue us. Instead, I watched in dismay as Badruddin got out of the truck and calmly stood on the side of the road. As trucks full of heavily armed government soldiers rolled by, he smiled and waved at them.

After the convoy disappeared, Badruddin seemed amused.

"Do you know who that was?" he asked me.

"No," I said, trying to play dumb.

"That was the Pakistani Army," he said.

He explained that under a cease-fire agreement between the Taliban and the army, all civilians were required to get out of their cars when an army convoy approached. For Taliban vehicles, though, only the driver had to get out. The practice, I realized, allowed the Taliban to hide kidnapping victims and foreign militants from the Pakistani Army.

This is the third of a five part series detailing his seven months of captivity. This section ends with him discussing the songs that he and his captors would sing together. Who would know that The Taliban loves The Beatles so much?

On other nights, at my guards' urging, I switched to American tunes. In a halting, off-key voice, I sang Frank Sinatra's version of "New York, New York" and described it as the story of a villager who tries to succeed in the city and support his family. I sang Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run" and described it as a portrayal of the struggles of average Americans.

I intentionally avoided American love songs, trying to dispel their belief that all Americans were hedonists. Despite my efforts, romantic songs -- whatever their language -- were the guards' favorites.

The Beatles song "She Loves You," which popped into my head soon after I received my wife's letter from the Red Cross, was the most popular.

For reasons that baffled me, the guards relished singing it with me. I began by singing its first verse. My three Taliban guards, along with Tahir and Asad, then joined me in the chorus.

"She loves you -- yeah, yeah, yeah," we sang, with Kalashnikovs lying on the floor around us.

How surreal is that?

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