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

of practice, right back from when they were using those old Stinger missiles to
knock the Russians out of the sky.
And we all knew the danger point was landing, when the ramp was down,
ready for an insert. That’s when the mountain men aimed the RPGs straight in
the back, to explode right in the fuel-tank area. And I guess the U.S. flight crews
could never be sure of any Afghan village, who might be in it, what weapons
they had, and how skilled they might be at using them.
I knew they’d need a pretty good aerial group to soften the place up before
they could come in and get me. And I was desperate to give them some kind of a
guide. I rigged up my radio emergency beacon to transmit through the open
window. I had no idea how much battery I had left, so I just turned it on, aimed it
high, and left it there on the window ledge, hopefully pinpointing my
whereabouts to any overhead flights by the air force or the Night Stalkers.
To my surprise, U.S. reaction happened a whole lot quicker than I thought it
would. That afternoon. The U.S. Air Force came thundering in, dropping twelvehundred-pound
bombs on the mountainside beyond the village, right where the
Taliban had picked up the stuff from the parachute drop.
The blasts were incredible. In my house, well, I thought the whole building
was coming down. Rocks and dust cascaded into the room. One of the walls
sustained a major structural fault as blast after blast shook the mountain from top
to bottom. Outside, people were screaming as the bombs hit and exploded;
thatched roofs were blown off; there was a dust storm outside. Mothers and kids
were rushing for cover, the tribesmen were at a complete loss. Everyone had
heard of American airpower, but they had not seen it firsthand, like this.
In fact none of the bombs, I guess by design, hit Sabray. But they came
close. Damned close. All around the perimeter. There must have been a big
lesson right here, and a very simple one. If you allow the Taliban and al Qaeda to
make camp in and around your village, no good can possibly come of it.
However, that wasn’t much comfort to my villagers as they tried to clean up
the mess, rebuild walls and roofs, and calm down frightened kids, most of whom
had had a very bad day. And all because of me. I looked out at the havoc around
me and felt the most terrible sadness. And Gulab understood what I was feeling.
He came over and put his arm around me and said, “Ah, Dr. Marcus, Taliban
very bad. We know. We fight.”
Jesus. Just what I need. A brand-new battle. We both retreated into the house
and sat down for a while, trying to plot a course for me which would cause the
least possible trouble to the farmers of Sabray.