Extreme Ownership: How U.S. Navy SEALs Lead and Win by Jocko Willink & Leif Babin

Author:Jocko Willink & Leif Babin [Willink, Jocko]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw, pdf
ISBN: 9781466874961
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2015-10-19T22:00:00+00:00

“Frogman on the roof,” was the radio call that let friendly forces know SEALs were on the high ground. Here, SEAL machine gunner Marc Lee engages insurgents with lethal machine gun fire as another SEAL assesses the situation and a SEAL grenadier scans for targets.

(Photo courtesy of Michael Fumento)

CHAPTER 7

Prioritize and Execute

Leif Babin

SOUTH-CENTRAL RAMADI, IRAQ: THE HORNET’S NEST

All day, murderous bursts of machine gun fire hammered our position, shattering windows and impacting interior walls, each round with the violence and kinetic energy of a sledgehammer wielded at full force. Some of the incoming rounds were armor-piercing and punched through the thick concrete of the low wall surrounding the rooftop. All our element of SEALs, EOD bomb technicians and Iraqi soldiers could do under such accurate enemy fire was hit the deck and try not to get our heads shot off. Rounds snapped inches above us, and shards of glass and concrete fragments rained down everywhere.

“Damn! Some of these bastards can shoot!” yelled a SEAL operator pressed as close to the floor as humanly possible. We couldn’t help but laugh at our predicament.

RPG-7 rockets followed in rapid sequence of three or four, exploding with tremendous concussion against the exterior walls. Hunkered down inside the building, we were separated from the bone-jarring explosions and deadly shrapnel by a foot or so of concrete. One errant RPG rocket missed its mark and sailed high over the building, trailing across the hazy, cloudless Iraqi summer sky like a bottle rocket on an American Fourth of July. But if just one of those rockets impacted a window, it meant red-hot fragments of jagged metal ripping through just about every man in the room.

Despite the onslaught, we held our position in the large four-story apartment building. When the fury of the attack subsided, our SEAL snipers returned fire with devastating effect. As armed enemy fighters maneuvered through the streets to attack, SEAL snipers squeezed off round after round with deadly accuracy, confirming ten enemy fighters killed and a handful more probable kills.

As the platoon commander, in charge of the entire element, I made my way from room to room on each floor to get a status check and make sure none of our guys were hit. Gathering information on our snipers’ engagements, I passed situational reports over the radio to the U.S. Army’s TOC in the distant friendly combat outpost.

“You guys good?” I asked, ducking into a room with SEAL snipers and machine gunners manning positions, while others took a break.

“Good to go,” came the response.

In another room, I checked in with our SEAL platoon chief. Just then, enemy fire poured through the windows bracketing his position as he pressed against the corner wall. He laughed and gave me a thumbs-up. Chief was a badass. SEAL machine gunners came looking for work, and we directed their fire at the enemy’s location; the gunners quickly hammered the enemy position with an accurate barrage of 7.62mm link.

One SEAL gunner, Ryan Job, eagerly employed his big machine gun with deadly accuracy.

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