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

found gun barrels snapped in half among the bodies.
The helicopter pilot fought for control, unaware of the carnage behind him
but certainly aware of the raging fires around and above him. Of course, there
was nothing he could do. The big MH-47 just fell out of the sky and crashed
with thunderous impact onto the mountainside, swayed, and then rolled with
brutal force over and over, smashing itself to pieces on a long two-hundred-yard
downward trail to extinction.
There was nothing left except scattered debris when our guys finally got up
there to investigate. And, of course, no survivors. My close SDV Team 1 buddies
James, Chief Dan, and young Shane were all gone. It was as well I did not know
this as I lay there in my crevasse. I’m not sure I could have coped with it. It was
nothing less than a massacre. Weeks later I broke down when I saw the
photographs, mostly because it was me they were all trying to rescue.
As I explained, at the time I knew nothing of this. I only knew something
had happened that had caused a lot of Taliban to get very obviously excited. And
soon I could see U.S. aircraft flying right along the canyon in front of me, A-10s
and AH-64 Apache helicopters. Some of them were so close I could see the
pilots.
I pulled my PRC-148 radio out of my pouch and tried to make contact. But I
could not speak. My throat was full of dirt, my tongue was sticking to the roof of
my mouth, and I had no water. I was totally unable to transmit. But I knew I was
in contact because I could hear the aircrew talking. So I fired up my emergency
distress beacon on the radio and transmitted that.
They picked it up. I know they did because I could hear them plainly. “Hey,
you getting that beacon?” “Yeah, we got it...but no further information.” Then
they just flew off, over to my right, where I now know the MH-47 had gone
down.
The trouble was, the Taliban steal those radios if they can, and they often
used them to lure the U.S. helicopters down. I was unaware of this at the time,
but now it’s obvious to me, the American pilots were extremely jumpy about
trying to put down in response to a U.S. beacon because they did not know who
the hell was aiming that beacon, and they might get shot down.
Which would have been, anyway, little comfort to me, lying there on the
mountainside only half alive, bleeding to death and unable to walk. And now it
was growing dark, and I was plainly running out of options. I guessed my only
chance was to attract the attention of one of the pilots who were still flying down
my canyon at pretty regular intervals.