Battle Ready: Memoir of a SEAL Warrior Medic by Mark L. Donald & Scott Mactavish

Author:Mark L. Donald & Scott Mactavish [Donald, Mark L. & Mactavish, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780312600754
Amazon: 0312600755
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2013-03-11T23:00:00+00:00

15

QRF

The tragedy of war is that it uses man’s best to do man’s worst.

—HARRY EMERSON FOSDICK

Chris arrived with a platoon from 10th Mountain including an air force tactical air controller assigned to the company and a medical team made up of the battalion surgeon and additional medics. Chris was in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle, and we saw his blond hair from a mile out. Vic immediately called a meeting with Tom, Chris, and me along with the officers and senior enlisted from the 10th Mountain. We gathered at the spot where my vehicle sat just hours earlier and briefly explained to Chris and the others what happened. After Vic was through he turned the floor over to Tom. It had been over an hour since we received enemy fire, so we assumed the onslaught of air support that Vic wielded on the enemy ended any desire to continue the assault.

“Captain, I know we all would like to get out of here, but we’d like to sweep the area and gather what intel we could off the enemy dead if you’ll allow it,” Tom said to the officer in charge of the QRF. The captain’s sergeant major nodded in support. Tom suggested the 10th Mountain platoon leader take a couple of armored vehicles and head toward the southern ridge while another squad joined up with a group of our ANA and followed the blood trail on foot.

“Doc, you’re the only other American familiar with the layout of the battlefield. Why don’t you take Hamadullah’s fighters and the staff sergeant’s men and push out toward the east. Chris, grab a couple soldiers”—he paused to see if he had approval from the captain—“and check the bodies on the ridgeline for intel. I’ll take some of my men and cover the flank.” I could see that Chris was annoyed with his assignment, and when everyone moved away he asked to speak with Tom and me.

“What’s up?” Tom asked.

Chris removed his ballistic sunglasses. “I didn’t come out here to scour the dead. Frankly, these are my men, and I’m a little pissed I couldn’t be here with you all when this happened.” I could see both the pain and intensity in his eyes. He was right, he knew these men far better than I. He’d trained them from the beginning and led them under fire on numerous other occasions, and I knew exactly what he was feeling. I had to stay behind on previous operations when insertion platforms or other parameters changed at the last minute. It wasn’t a good feeling, especially when the team took casualties. Each special operations warrior has something inside him that screams, “I can be the difference.” It’s not arrogance or ego; it’s simply an unwavering belief in ourselves. It’s part of the internal drive that gets us through training and those times when the odds are stacked against us. Unfortunately, it’s also what haunts us when our teammates fall. Tom looked at me as if the decision were mine to make.

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