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

me the Mark 12 sniper rifle and said simply, “Taliban, Dr. Marcus. We fight.”
He looked more serious than I’d ever seen him. Not afraid, just full of
determination. Up on that mountain, when he had first seen me, Sarawa had
made the decision with his buddies that I, a wounded American, should be
granted lokhay. The doctor knew perfectly well from the first moment by that
gushing mountain river that the situation might ultimately come to this. Even if I
didn’t.
It was a decision that, right from the start, had affected everyone in the
village. I think most people had accepted it, and it had obviously been endorsed
by the village elder. I’d seen a few angry faces full of hatred, but they were not
in the majority. And now the village chief of law and order, Mohammad Gulab,
was prepared to stand by that unspoken vow his people had given to me.
He was doing it not for personal gain but out of a sense of honor that reached
back down the generations, two thousand years of Pashtunwalai tradition: You
will defend your guest to the death. I watched Gulab carefully as he rammed a
new magazine into his AK. This was a man preparing to step right up to the
plate. And I saw that light of goodness in his dark eyes, the way you always do
when someone is making a brave and selfless action.
I thanked Gulab and banged a new magazine into my rifle. I stared out the
window and assessed the battlefield. We were low down on almost flat terrain,
but the Taliban’s attack would be launched from the higher ground, the way they
always preferred it. I wondered how many other rock-and-mud houses in Sabray
were also shielding men who were about to fight.
The situation was serious but not dire. We had excellent cover, and I didn’t
think the enemy knew precisely where I was. So far as I could see, the Battle for
Murphy’s Ridge represented a two-edged sword. First of all, the tribesmen could
be seething with fury about the number of their guys killed in action by Mikey,
Axe, Danny, and me. This might even mean a suicide bomber or an attack so
reckless they’d risk any number of warriors just to get me. I wasn’t crazy about
either option.
On the other hand, they might be slightly scared at the prospect of facing
even one of that tiny American team that had wiped out possibly 50 percent of a
Taliban assault force.
Sure, they knew I was wounded, but they also knew I would be well armed
by the villagers, even if I had lost my own rifle. I guessed they would either
throw everything at me, the hell with the expense, or take it real steady, fighting
their way through the village house by house until they had Gulab and me