"To the victims of 9/11 and their families who never asked to be in the fight, but were and are.
It was in memory of you that I fought" - Robert O'Neill
Follow Robert's point of view as he recounts growing up in Butte, Montana to the wars in the Middle East and the death of Osama Bin Laden.
Censored for national security
To the reader: The author has blacked out selected text in this book to comply with the Department of Defense Prepublication and Security Review.
A team effort
Over the past forty years, I’ve had much to be grateful for, including the support of two wonderful parents and the gift of my special daughters. But it was as a member of SEAL Team *** that I learned how deep friendships can be. With the *** *** ****** Squadrons, I found a level of trust that, I believe, far exceeds anything that is possible in civilian life. When in the middle of a pitch-black night on the other side of the world you’re about to breach a building jammed with AK-47-wielding terrorists, you have your SEAL brothers—and no one else.
For a long time, I wrestled with whether to write about my four hundred missions as a SEAL. I didn’t want the book to be just about me. If that’s all the story was, I wouldn’t write it. Could I capture the incredible refusal to quit of my SEAL brothers? Describe what it’s like to be part of a team that functions as a single organism, trained by thousands of repetitions to act as one? Explain that when any of us succeed we all succeed?
Those are the questions that kept me awake at night.
When SEALs put their lives on the line for their country, sometimes it’s in obscurity and sometimes it’s in the media spotlight. When the latter happens, the media often get it wrong. One SEAL never returns a hostage to her loved ones. One SEAL never liberates a town from torturers. One SEAL never rescues a man behind enemy lines. One SEAL never kills the bad guy everyone has been searching for.
When the gun fires, it’s as if we all fire it. I decided, finally, to write this book to bring that truth to readers.
9/11
I was thinking about a pint of something at the pub, barely aware of a CNN financial report droning on the TV hanging from the ceiling. At 2:49 German time, the show transitioned from a commercial to a “breaking news” logo, and there was a stunning image of one of the World Trade Center towers in New York belching black smoke from a massive hole in its midsection. I stopped typing and watched, thinking, “What the hell?” A witness jabbered nervously as the tower billowed smoke. A passenger jet came slicing out of the flawless blue sky on the right side of the screen and flew directly into the second tower. A massive fireball rose up behind the streaming smoke from the first tower. The commentator, who hadn’t even noticed, or hadn’t been watching, continued his interview as if nothing new had happened. But we saw it. We saw it, but could barely believe what we’d seen.
Everyone was going, “Did you see that? Did you see that other plane?”
It couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds before someone said: “Osama bin Laden. This is al-Qaeda. We’re under attack.”
Join the army and travel to far away countries...
From that very first truck ride, whenever I drove in Afghanistan I kept a pistol in easy reach, either in my vest or under my leg. I put my rifle in the door in case I had to open the door and fall out. Your gun falls with you. You don’t leave it in the truck.
It was a weird feeling suddenly being in the middle of Jalalabad, a major city in Afghanistan—a place where Osama bin Laden used to live. It was summer, hot and dusty, with the penetrating stink of trash and smoke saturating the air. The pothole-laden streets were lined with drab low-rise buildings, “bazaars” on each side of the street for most of the drive, and weird speed bumps every few hundred meters.
Join the army, travel to far away countries, meet new people and shoot them before they shoot you.
My team got to the main entrance on “building 1-1,” our target. Because there was a gunfight all around us, we decided to put a charge on the primary entrance, the front door. Our breacher made his way up with my team leader holding security. The breacher placed the charge and moved to a safe distance and blew the door. Boom! We quietly entered and found ourselves in a long hallway. The charge had filled the house with dust while Andy, Jonny, two other guys, and I made our way forward in our usual CQB formation, only moving more methodically because you don’t sprint with the night vision down. I was the fourth man back. The infrared torches at the ends of our guns lit up the space. A guy with an AK-47 pointed right at us popped out of a doorway just like in one of those amusement park houses of horror. We were standing there looking at him, and he was looking right back at us, but he couldn’t see us. It was like we were ghosts. Before we could shoot, he disappeared back behind the door. Andy and another guy, a big tough guy, pushed through the door, and I heard the distinctive brraaatt of the big guy’s gun. Blasted him. We were all a little awed by the moment. This big, seriously tough guy had never killed anybody before, and now he’d just shot a guy in the face.
Multi-lingual
We’d leave our interpreters outside until the houses were clear; it was too dangerous to bring them in with us. I remember talking with intelligence folks and analysts about this. They questioned how we could communicate with our captives.
“You don’t speak Arabic,” they’d say.
“Yeah,” I’d respond, “but everybody speaks ‘gun.’?”
The conquering liberators
The next day, the locals who’d been terrorized by this al-Qaeda cell for four years realized that all their oppressors were dead. We could see their reaction because we had aircraft circling overhead, watching in case any more bad guys showed up to bury the dead. No more bad guys, just a big celebration. The party got so big, with all these jubilant people drinking juice and dancing in the street, that a newspaper in Baghdad sent a reporter up there. He asked, “Who did this? Who came last night?”
The women responded: “Ninjas, and they came with lions.”
That was the headline the next day in Baghdad.
Robert takes you through gruesomely hard training as he and his team became the super soldiers to fight terrorism.
Enjoy?