Lahidji Changiz - Full battle rattle: my story as the longest-serving special forces A-Team soldier in American history

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The nation that makes a great distinction between its scholars and its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting done by fools.

Spartan king, quoted by Thucydides

To all the brave individuals who have ever served in the US Special Forces. De oppresso liber! (To free the oppressed)

Friends, ex-presidents, generals, and other members of the US military know me simply as Changiz. My full name and rank is Master Sergeant Changiz Lahidji, and I have the distinction of having served on Special Forces A-teams longer than anyone in historytwenty-four years in total. The SF A-teams I served on include:

ODA 561

ODA 562

ODA 564

ODA 174

ODA 171

ODA 176

ODA 134

ODA 136

ODA 595

ODA 596

ODA 326

ODA 324

ODA 113

I also happen to be the first Muslim Green Beret.

Friends and colleagues tell me Im some kind of legend in Special Forces because of my unique background, the number of top secret missions I deployed on, and my thirty-six years of servicetwenty-four as a Green Beret and twelve as a private contractor, during which time I completed over a hundred combat missions in Afghanistan.

I tend to think that my outgoing personality has a lot to do with my notoriety. One thing that distinguishes me is my love of life and the fact that I never shy away from having a good time! I consider myself a friend to everyone who isnt trying to do me harm, which has happened many times. Ive survived bullet wounds, parachute mishaps, helicopter crashes, broken bones, and other calamities too numerous to count.

The photo on the cover is of me on a combat mission in June 2008 near Firebase Wilderness in southeastern Afghanistan. Please note three things: One, the Black Hawk helicopter in the background is on its side, because twenty minutes before this picture was taken our chopper was hit by intense fire from the Taliban and crash-landed. Minutes after that, I kicked the side door open, helped the FBI officer and soldiers who were riding with me and the pilot get out, fired over 300 rounds from my M4 to drive the Taliban back, then radioed for help. Two of my teammates died in the crash.

Two, see the blood dripping down my face? Thats real. During the crash, I sustained a deep cut to my forehead, which was later closed up with stitches. I also fractured my right leg and banged up my knee and arm. It took three doctors and four nurses to patch me back together.

Three, you might have also noticed that Im smiling. Why? Because I was so damn happy to still be alive. The guys on the medevac team that flew us out thought I was crazy, because I laughed and trembled all the way back to base.

Its been my good fortune to serve my adopted country in every war and military engagement since Vietnam, starting with Operation Eagle Claw in 1980, when I entered Tehran on a one-man mission to spy on Iranian soldiers and Revolutionary Guards guarding the US Embassy where fifty-two US diplomats were being held hostage.

Friends have likened me to the military equivalent of Zeligthe Woody Allen character who had a knack for turning up at dramatic moments in history. In 1980, I trained mujahedeen in Pakistan and Afghanistan to fight against the Soviets. Three years later, I was in Beirut, Lebanon, when a suicide car bomb exploded in front of the US Embassy, killing sixty-three people and wounding hundreds. Weeks after that, I was on a night mission with Lebanese Christian militiamen when Hezbollah terrorists ambushed us and I was shot in the leg.

I was part of 5th Group Special Forces that made the initial assault during the invasion of Grenada. In 1991, I was deployed to Kuwait to participate in Operation Desert Storm. At one point during the war, I snuck into Baghdad dressed as a civilian and stayed there for four days collecting important intelligence.

I returned to Iraq twelve years later for Operation Iraqi Freedom, and led a convoy that was ambushed on its way to Fallujah. In 1991, I was assigned to work with the FBI Special Antiterrorism Unit in New York City and went undercover to gather evidence on Omar Abdel-Rahman (the Blind Sheikh), who helped plan the first World Trade Center bombing.

I was on the ground clearing houses in Mogadishu, Somalia, on October 3, 1993, when a US Black Hawk helicopter was shot down fifty feet away from mean incident that inspired the book and film Black Hawk Down . In 2002, I dressed as a Pashtun farmer and snuck into a village high in the White Mountains of eastern Afghanistan and located Osama bin Laden for the CIA. In 04, while working in Darfur, Sudan, as a cease-fire monitor, I brokered an agreement with the non-Arab Justice and Equality Movement (JEM) rebels opposing the Sudanese government to stop attacking UN refugee camps.

Those are some of the missions I deployed on. Others took me to Pakistan, Senegal, Cambodia, Laos, Vietnam, the Philippines, Spain, Egypt, Okinawa, and Haiti.

Along the way, Ive earned numerous commendations, including the Special Forces Legion of Merit, Purple Hearts, multiple US Army achievement and commendation medals, six Joint Service medals, and awards from the FBI, Department of State, DEA, African Union, NATO, Thailand, Haiti, Kuwait, and Sudan. Last year I was nominated for induction into the Military Intelligence Hall of Fame and cited as the finest noncommissioned officer to ever serve in Special Forces and someone who exemplifies the American Dream.

I love the United States with all my heart, but cant say that making my way here as a twenty-four-old from Iran with Hollywood dreams in his head and very little English was easy. It wasnt.

Hopefully, Ive learned a few things from my experience about determination and hard work. And time after time, across the globe, Ive seen politics and religion drive people into conflict. Ive come to realize that you can be a bad motherfucker when you serve in your unit, but underneath be a thoughtful, kind, fun-loving, and compassionate man. Ive had the privilege to serve with dozens of them.

Ive also seen firsthand how the greatest military power on the planet is losing the war on terrorism because we dont spend the time to learn local languages and customs. Instead of dropping bombs and making enemies, we should be educating people about our freedoms and way of life. And instead of relying on technology for collecting intelligence, we should be developing reliable local sources.

This is my storywarts, laughs, defeat, triumph, and all. I hope you enjoy it.

On a cold Sunday afternoon in November 1979 I was walking through the day room at Special Forces 5th Group headquarters at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, when I saw a dozen of my teammates crowded around a TV set. One of them shouted, Hey, Changiz, you raghead son of a bitch, come look at your brothers!

What brothers? I asked.

On the television I saw footage of Iranian student radicals using ladders to climb over the walls of the US Embassy compound in Tehran. The TV announcer reported that rioters had taken control of the embassy and seized more than sixty American hostages.

Powerful emotions started to course through my body. First, Im not a raghead. Im Persian. And secondly, these are not my fucking brothers!

Bullshit, one of my teammates replied.

On TV, a young bearded Iranian spokesman proclaimed that they wouldnt free the hostages until the US turned over the exiled former Shah, Mohammad Reza Shah Pahlavi, who had fled Iran in July. US president Jimmy Carter had recently granted him permission to come to the United States to treat his advanced malignant lymphoma, thus unleashing a torrent of anti-American hatred from the young supporters of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini.