Webb Brandon - The Killing School

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This book is dedicated to my fellow warriors turned military authors, who have had the courage, in the face of massive peer pressure, to enter the authors coliseum and engage in literary battle, and who emerge again, their faces marred by dust and sweat and blood (as Teddy Roosevelt puts it in the quote on pg vii), knowing they gave their all in the process.

Its ironic that these warriors, many of whom barely managed to survive being shot by the enemys ranks, arrive back home in the States only to find themselves targeted and shot at in a war of words, often fired their way by members, or former members, of their own units.

Criticism by some in the military community is expected, especially from those who served in the Special Operations community, a group largely in the shadows prior to September 11, 2001. Still, scrutiny is one thing. Trash-talking and outright character assassination is something else. Ive experienced this myself, and its no fun. So have Chris Kyle, Marcus Luttrell, Howard Wasdin, and scores of other colleagues. So, no doubt, will the four men whose stories we share in these pages.

The next time you see one of those silent professionals disparaging someone from their own community, on social media or elsewhere, keep this in mind: most critics and would-be character assassins typically share two traits in commoninsecurity with their own performance (in this case, with their own military service) and professional jealousy.

More than a century ago, an old cavalry soldier and Medal of Honor recipient, no stranger himself to the slings and arrows of envious resentment, put it far better than I can:

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

Teddy Roosevelt

All the events in this book are true and are described herein to the best of my knowledge and/or recollection. In several cases, names have been changed. We have at all times sought to avoid disclosing particular methods and other sensitive mission-related information. This book was submitted to, partially redacted, and ultimately cleared by the Department of Defense review board prior to publication.

Every man owes a death. There are no exceptions.

Stephen King, The Green Mile

I have an unusual relationship with death.

For most of us, death is a mystery, a thing we fear and seek to avoid, evade, or deny, even to the point of pretending it doesnt exist, at least until we reach our sixties or seventies and it starts coming around to claim the lives of those we know and love.

For me, the face of death is as familiar as the barista at my local coffee shop.

***

In the freezing morning hours of March 4, 2002, I sit with seven of my teammates in an MH-47 Chinook helicopter, code name Razor 1. Were not moving; were tied down at Bagram Air Base in northern Afghanistan, waiting for the word to go. We have been deployed as a QRF (quick reaction force) to fly out to the Shahikot Valley, near the Pakistan border about a hundred miles south of here, to rescue Neil Roberts, a fellow Navy SEAL who has been shot down on a mountaintop there, along with a team of SEALs who went in to get him out and got pinned down themselves by enemy fire.

Finally the word comesonly it isnt GO, its Get Off.

At the last minute, for reasons we are never told (no doubt political), we are yanked off the bird and replaced by a team of U.S. Army Rangers who fly off in our place while we sit on our hands. Five members of that rescue teamthe team that replaced us, the team that should have been usnever come back. Neither does Roberts. Instead, he becomes the first U.S. Navy SEAL killed in the young conflict people are already calling the War on Terror.

A few weeks later, another SEAL named Matthew Bourgeois steps out of a Humvee on the outskirts of Kandahar and onto a land mine. The bizarre thing is, I stood there, on that exact same spot, two months ago, when the Humvee I was riding in parked right theredirectly on top of a live antitank land mine. The only reason the damn thing didnt blow us to pieces is that whoever set it up did a lousy job.

But not this time. Unlike the one underneath my Humvees wheel, the device Matthew just stepped on has been set correctly. A fraction of a second later he becomes Afghanistans Navy SEAL casualty #2.

***

You could say I had cheated death once again, but I didnt see it that way. Orpheus may have tricked Hades; Ingmar Bergman may have had Max von Sydow play chess with Death; but those are only stories. In real life, death isnt something you cheat or outmaneuver. Death is like the wind: it blows where it wants to blow. You cant argue with death; you cant stop it. Best you can do, as any sailor will tell you, is your damnedest to harness it.

We never really left Afghanistan, and soon we were in Iraq, too, and many other parts of the world, and more deaths followed. In 2012 I started writing a book, Among Heroes, honoring friends of mine who had given their lives in the course of the War on Terror. While I was still working on the first draft, my best friend in the world, Glen Doherty, was killed in Benghazi. Before the manuscript was finished, another SEAL sniper friend, Chris Kyle, died in Texas while trying to help out a suffering vet. I had thought the book was my idea; but death was writing it with me.

As many thinkers over the ages have pointed out, your relationship with death colors your relationship with life, perhaps even determines it. Crazy Horse rode into battle at the Little Bighorn saying, Today is a good day to die. Thats not simply a declaration of balls and bravery. Embracing death is the only thing that allows you to fully embrace being alive. The fear of death follows from the fear of life, said Mark Twain. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.