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

It seemed apparent that my presence here was causing a more and more
threatening attitude from the Taliban, and the last thing I wanted was to cause
pain and unhappiness among these people who had sheltered me. But my options
were narrow, despite the Americans being, it seemed, hot on my trail. One of the
main problems was that Gulab’s father had not made contact with us, because
there was no way he could. And we had no way of knowing whether he had
made it to a military base.
The Taliban were probably not overwhelmingly thrilled at being bombed by
the U.S. Air Force and had probably sustained many casualties out there on the
mountain. It occurred to both Gulab and me that the word revenge might not be
far from the curled lips of these hate-filled Muslim fanatics and that I might be
the most convenient target.
That meant a major problem and probably loss of life for the people of
Sabray. Gulab himself was under pressure since he’d received that threat from
the Taliban. He had a wife, children, and many relatives to think about. In the
end, the decision made itself. Clearly, I had to leave, just to keep the village from
becoming a battleground. Lokhay had worked well, but we both wondered if its
mystical tribal folklore could hold out indefinitely in the face of the wounded
and somewhat embarrassed Taliban and al Qaeda fighters.
The U.S. bombardment of the mountainside had for a while raised my hopes
and expectations. After all, here were my own guys, swooping over these
tribesmen from the Middle Ages, hitting them hard with high-tech modern
ordnance. That’s got to be good, right?
But not everything’s good. Retribution, against me and my protectors, was
now uppermost in my mind. I think it was the tight-fisted old oil baron John Paul
Getty who once observed that for every plus that takes place in this world, there
is, somewhere, somehow, a minus. He got that right.
The question was, Where should I go? And here, my options were very
limited. I could never make the long walk to the base at Asadabad, and anyhow
that would seem inane since the village elder was either in there or very nearly.
And the only place of refuge close by was the U.S. outpost at Monagee, two
miles away over a steep mountain.
I did not relish the plan, and neither would the guys who would need to assist
me on the journey. But so far as Gulab and I could tell, there was nothing else we
could do except hunker down and prepare for a Taliban attack, and I really did
not want to put anyone through that. Especially the kids.
We thus resolved that I should walk with him and two others over the