Lone Survivor_ The Eyewitness Account of Operation Redwing and the Lost Heroes of SEAL Team 10 ( PDFDrive )

not long in arriving. From high up on the right on the main cliff face there was a
sudden, unusual movement. Someone was falling, and it had to be Danny.
The flailing body crashed through the high woods and flipped at the ski
jump, tumbling, tumbling, all the way to the bottom, where it landed with a
sickening thump. Just as we all had. But Danny never moved, just lay there,
either stunned or dead. And the folklore of the brotherhood stood starkly before
both Mikey and me: No SEAL was ever left alone to die on the battlefield. No
SEAL.
I dropped my rifle and cleared the log in one bound. Mikey came right after
me. Axe kept firing, trying to give us cover, as we ducked down and ran fast
across the flat ground to the base of the cliff. Mikey was still pouring blood from
his stomach, and I felt like I had a broken back, low down, base of my spine.
We reached Danny together, hoisted him up, and manhandled him back to
the logs, dragging him into what passed for safety around here. They fired at us
from the heights all the way across that lethal ground, but no one got hit, and
somehow, against truly staggering odds, we were all still going, all in one piece,
except for the shot Mikey took.
As the resident medic, I should have been able to help, but all my stuff had
been ripped away in the fall, and there was no time to do anything except shoot
these bastards who carried AK-47s and hope to Christ they’d give up. Or at least
run out of those RPGs. They could hurt someone if they weren’t careful.
Fuckers.
Right then, I was confident we were going to make it. The ground fell away
quite sharply behind us, but way below was our target village, and it was on flat
ground, with sturdy-looking houses. Cover, that was all we needed, with our
enemy caught flat-footed on flat ground. We’d be all right. We’d get ’em.
Danny fought back, cleared his head, and tried to get up. But his face was
rigid. He was in terrible pain. And then I saw the blood pouring out of his hand.
“I’ve been shot, Marcus, can you help me?” he said.
“We’ve all been shot,” replied Mikey. “Can you fight?”
I stared at Danny’s right hand. His thumb had been blown right off. And I
saw him grit his teeth and nod, sweat streaming down his blackened face. He
adjusted his rifle, banged in a new magazine with the butt of his hand, and took
his place in the center of our little gun line. Then he turned to face the enemy
once more. He was a bullmastiff, glaring up the mountain, and he opened fire
with everything he had.
Danny, Mikey, and Axe blasted that left flank while I held the right. The fire