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Touching the Dragon: And Other Techniques for Surviving Life's Wars
“Jimmy Hatch is a personal hero of mine.”
—Anderson Cooper
“Irresistible. . . . A wounded SEAL’s shame becomes a salvation.”
—J. Ford Huffman, Military Times
James Hatch is a former special ops Navy SEAL senior chief, master naval parachutist, and expert military dog trainer and handler. On his fateful final mission in Afghanistan, his SEAL team was sent to recover Bowe Bergdahl—the soldier who deserted his post and fell into the hands of Al-Qaida and the Taliban. The mission went south, and Hatch was left with a shattered femur from an AK-47 round and the SEAL dog who fought alongside him was dead. As a result of his horrific leg wound, his twenty-four-year military career came to an end—and with it the only life he’d ever known.
In Touching the Dragon , we witness his long road to recovery. Getting well physically required eighteen surgeries, twelve months of recovery, and learning to walk again. But getting well mentally would prove to be much tougher, as he fought through the depths of despair, alcoholism, and the pull to end his own life. What emerges is a different kind of hero’s journey, one in which Hatch shows the courage it takes to confess, confront, and overcome his own brokenness. Through the love of family, friends, and his military dogs, Hatch learned remarkable tools and found his purpose, and now he wants to share this wisdom with the rest of us because we all have wounds.
—Anderson Cooper
“Irresistible. . . . A wounded SEAL’s shame becomes a salvation.”
—J. Ford Huffman, Military Times
James Hatch is a former special ops Navy SEAL senior chief, master naval parachutist, and expert military dog trainer and handler. On his fateful final mission in Afghanistan, his SEAL team was sent to recover Bowe Bergdahl—the soldier who deserted his post and fell into the hands of Al-Qaida and the Taliban. The mission went south, and Hatch was left with a shattered femur from an AK-47 round and the SEAL dog who fought alongside him was dead. As a result of his horrific leg wound, his twenty-four-year military career came to an end—and with it the only life he’d ever known.
In Touching the Dragon , we witness his long road to recovery. Getting well physically required eighteen surgeries, twelve months of recovery, and learning to walk again. But getting well mentally would prove to be much tougher, as he fought through the depths of despair, alcoholism, and the pull to end his own life. What emerges is a different kind of hero’s journey, one in which Hatch shows the courage it takes to confess, confront, and overcome his own brokenness. Through the love of family, friends, and his military dogs, Hatch learned remarkable tools and found his purpose, and now he wants to share this wisdom with the rest of us because we all have wounds.
336 pages, Hardcover
First published May 15, 2018
74 people are currently reading
454 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 25 of 25 reviews
June 16, 2018
For anyone who wants to know what life is like not just on the battlefield but when you return home, Hatch writes with an honesty and openness about the “second war” that service members face when they come home. We honor the dead this weekend but we must honor those who have sacrificed and still walk among us in silent pain.
October 27, 2018
Everything you ever wanted to know about the personal effects of war on man and beast, and then some.
June 17, 2018
This is a very moving story of one man's descent into the maelstrom of mental illness, alcoholism and drug addiction and the compassion and dedication of friends and strangers that rescued him.
June 9, 2018
I absolutely loved this book for so many reasons. I appreciated getting a glimpse into the life of being a Navy SEAL. I’ve always wondered what motivates folks to do what they do—especially this type of work where you put your life on the line on a pretty regular basis.
I also appreciated the insight into what soldiers go through when they are injured. It was incredibly brave for Jimmy to share how he struggled with PTSD and guilt. It is only through sharing experiences that others will learn they are not alone. So happy he is using his many talents to continue to help other humans and dogs. No man is an island, and this book really drove that point home.
I also appreciated the insight into what soldiers go through when they are injured. It was incredibly brave for Jimmy to share how he struggled with PTSD and guilt. It is only through sharing experiences that others will learn they are not alone. So happy he is using his many talents to continue to help other humans and dogs. No man is an island, and this book really drove that point home.
June 2, 2018
There are some books that are gripping page-turners that won’t allow you to lay them down. There are some books full of self-help advice that makes you step back and reassess how the hell you’re conducting your day-to-day life. There are some books that give you precious insider’s insight into foreign affairs being conducted half a world away. There are some books that sound the depths of the human soul and give us a reading on the hopes and dragons that sleep there. There are some books that make you laugh out loud and shake your head. There are some books that embarrass you because they make you weep in your middle seat on an airplane. There are some books that change who you want to be.
There are precious few books that do all of these. This is one of them.
This is not a review, it’s a request. I’m requesting that you read this book. Not for you, but for me, for all of us. If enough people read this book there might be just a little bit less condemnation of others without knowing their stories. There might just be a few more human chains of love pulling others to safety.
There are precious few books that do all of these. This is one of them.
This is not a review, it’s a request. I’m requesting that you read this book. Not for you, but for me, for all of us. If enough people read this book there might be just a little bit less condemnation of others without knowing their stories. There might just be a few more human chains of love pulling others to safety.
July 8, 2018
Wasn't what I was expecting. I was thinking it would be more like "No easy day". After realizing what it was, I enjoyed it but it wasn't extremely compelling. Glad I read it, but certainly do not need to read it again. This is a true story of the struggle a soldiers faces after battle. I cannot imagine what it would be like to be in his shoes.
Audible
Audible
May 28, 2018
I loved this book!
I loved this book for many reasons. It made me laugh; it made me reflect; it made me happy; it made me sad; it made me angry. I felt very connected to Jimmy. If you’ve ever struggled with demons in your life, read this book!
I loved this book for many reasons. It made me laugh; it made me reflect; it made me happy; it made me sad; it made me angry. I felt very connected to Jimmy. If you’ve ever struggled with demons in your life, read this book!
December 28, 2018
out f'n standing!!!
June 23, 2019
Powerful
January 21, 2026
Touching the Dragon: A SEAL's Journey Through War and PTSD
James Hatch's Touching the Dragon, written with Christian D'Andrea, stands as one of the most brutally honest accounts of special operations combat and its psychological aftermath. This memoir traces Hatch's unlikely journey from high school dropout to elite Navy SEAL, through 150 combat missions, to his near-death experience and subsequent battle with PTSD. The result is a book that refuses easy heroism while documenting extraordinary courage, both in combat and in confronting invisible wounds.
Hatch's path to the SEALs followed an unconventional route. After failing in high school, he joined the Army before switching to the Navy to pursue SEAL training. His first attempt at BUD/S (Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training) ended in failure when he dropped out. Rather than abandoning his goal, he served three years as an ordinary sailor before returning to BUD/S and successfully qualifying. This persistence would define his career. He became an accomplished skydiver and airborne videographer before finally making what he calls "the big time": selection to DEVGRU, commonly known as SEAL Team Six, the Navy's most elite special operations unit.
The writing quality throughout proves exceptional, likely due to D'Andrea's collaboration, though certain sections suggest Hatch's own voice breaking through with raw authenticity. The book never glorifies violence but presents combat with clinical precision and emotional honesty. Over his career, Hatch conducted approximately 150 "capture or kill" missions in Iraq and Afghanistan, operations that form the backbone of America's counterterrorism strategy but remain largely invisible to the public.
Hatch's narrative centers on his partnership with military working dogs, whom he credits with saving countless lives including his own. He claims responsibility for getting dogs integrated into special forces and DEVGRU operations. His dog Spike demonstrated an almost supernatural ability to sense danger, once tugging on Hatch to make him turn around and see a problem he had been unaware of. In another operation, his dog Lion jumped on five men setting up a machine gun in a ditch. The enemy fighters were so surprised and scared that Hatch's team was able to eliminate all of them before they fired a shot.
The book provides unflinching detail about the reality of counterterrorism operations. Military working dogs could distinguish military-age males from children, a capability that proved crucial in complex urban environments. Hatch recounts instances where his team saved children while engaging fighters who used them as shields. In one particularly disturbing case, a target sent his children out ahead, saying later in perfect English, "I don't want my children interfering with my jihad." Another operation resulted in the capture of several insurgents and the discovery of a young boy who had been wandering the streets, taken in by these men, and raped daily. Hatch concludes that account with the grim wish: "I wish the rapists had pulled guns on us."
The book's central tragedy occurred on Hatch's 150th mission, an operation attempting to rescue Bowe Bergdahl just days after his desertion. During this mission, Hatch was shot in the thigh at very close range with an AK-47, an injury that practically destroyed his femur. In the chaos of the same firefight, his dog Spike was killed when Hatch fired two rounds into a large military-age male who was attacking the animal. The rounds passed through the insurgent and struck Spike fatally. Hatch nearly bled to death but survived thanks to what he calls "the fly fisherman" and other members of his crew who treated his wound in darkness and got him medevaced within thirty minutes, preserving the crucial "golden hour" for trauma care.
Hatch offers high praise for helicopter pilots and even higher praise for the medics and doctors who saved his life in the field and later "put him back together physically but not in the head." This distinction between physical and psychological recovery forms the book's central theme. The medical details prove extensive and sometimes harrowing. Hatch spent months, possibly years, heavily medicated and struggling with the reality of his injuries. At one point, convinced he had been kidnapped to Korea, he looked up at medical staff and informed them he was going to kill everyone. From the looks on their faces, he notes, they believed him.
His rank of Senior Chief brought certain privileges, including visits from Defense Secretary Robert Gates, who asked at the door, "May I come in?" Hatch's response captured his irreverent spirit: "You're the Secretary of Defense. Am I allowed to say no?" The Secretary of the Navy also visited to present him with the Purple Heart. Yet rank and medals could not address his fundamental struggle with pain, drugs, and psychological trauma.
The book's treatment of PTSD proves revelatory in its honesty. Hatch struggled for years to identify and acknowledge his condition. In one crisis, he put a pistol in his mouth and announced his intention to commit suicide. His wife disarmed him, so he grabbed a kitchen knife. She took that away and called his team, who told her to call the police since they were closer. The responding officers proved remarkably understanding, treating a decorated warrior in crisis with the respect and care he needed.
Recovery proved neither linear nor complete. In the hospital, Hatch refused to use a bedpan despite being unable to stand, declaring, "I'll do whatever the hell I want." The nurse looked at him and said, "I don't care who you are. I am the nurse and you're gonna do what I say." This confrontation, and his eventual acceptance of help, marked a turning point in his psychological recovery.
The book's title, Touching the Dragon, refers to Hatch's method for confronting PTSD. He conceptualizes the dragon as fire-breathing fear and trauma, specifically the mistakes he believed he made when he was shot and his dog was killed. Under psychiatric care in both military and civilian hospitals, he learned to "touch the dragon" rather than flee from it, confronting his trauma directly rather than avoiding it through substances or denial.
A pivotal moment in his recovery came in the civilian psychiatric hospital where he met a woman who had been raped at age eleven by two uncles in front of her drunk father on Christmas Eve. The encounter forced perspective: "I volunteered. She did not. What does she think of every Christmas?" This woman's courage in facing trauma she never chose proved transformative for Hatch's understanding of his own wounds.
His relationship with Congresswoman Gabby Giffords provides another thread of meaning through the narrative. Hatch had met Giffords before her shooting, taking her skydiving in Arizona where she was strapped to him during the jump. She visited him during his recovery and asked how she could help. He asked her to hug his crew when she visited them in Afghanistan, which she did immediately upon arrival. When Giffords was shot in the head in 2011, Hatch came to visit her. His perspective proved characteristically direct: "I was shot in the leg. She was shot in the head." Despite severe speech difficulties, when Hatch walked into her room, Giffords managed to say, "Jimmy Hatch." Later, he took her skydiving again, helping her reclaim something trauma had nearly stolen.
One member of his DEVGRU unit who aided Hatch's psychological recovery had been shot twenty-seven times. Hatch notes, "I was shot only once." This comparison provided crucial perspective during his darkest moments, reminding him that others had endured worse and continued living.
The book includes sharp observations about American military strategy and policy. When the United States invaded Iraq and then fired the entire Iraqi army, Hatch asks simply, "What are those men going to do?" His answer: "That's what they did," becoming the insurgency that cost thousands of American and Iraqi lives. He expresses contempt for nation-building approaches disconnected from reality: "We can't make people fight for themselves. Good intentions are a bad strategy." His alternative: "Find the people whose daughters go to school and arm the fathers so girls stay in school."
Hatch identifies a "huge separation between those who actually fight and the people who facilitate," criticizing the bubble mentality in Washington he calls "Bubbletastics." In one incident, he asked a senior officer about Pakistan offering sanctuary to insurgents, information he had heard on Meet the Press. The briefer responded that the information was "close hold," classified. Hatch's response: "What the fuck do you mean it's close hold? That was on Meet the Press yesterday."
His criticism extends to how America conducts counterinsurgency: "When you start a war, you use special forces to kill the bad guys but don't bring in a gaggle of ground army. Boots on the ground means a big footprint where bases look like the US, have Orange Julius and Burger King, and don't permit firing on the base." This bloated approach, he argues, undermines the mission's effectiveness while increasing American vulnerability.
Hatch expresses limited respect for local Iraqi fighters: "They were so used to being the only ones with guns." In one night raid, an interpreter decided to believe a woman who said an old man was inside a structure the team feared might be booby-trapped. The interpreter went in alone and brought out the old man, demonstrating courage that earned Hatch's genuine admiration, a quality he rarely extends.
After retiring from the military, Hatch attended college and returned to skydiving, which requires functional legs, something he had to relearn. He began helping other veterans skydive and spoke to firefighters and Navy personnel about seeking help for psychological trauma. His message proved simple and direct: "Go get help." One double amputee kept working at skydiving with a specific goal: he wanted kids to look at him and say, "Look at that. I wish I didn't have legs," transforming his disability into inspiration.
Hatch notes that military working dogs "never had a choice" about their service, unlike him, who volunteered repeatedly. He now pays tribute to his dogs Spike, Lion, and Remco through Spike's K9 Fund, which provides bulletproof vests for military and police working dogs. This work represents his attempt to honor animals who gave their lives without choosing to serve.
The book references the Redwing incident where a helicopter carrying sixteen men was shot down while attempting to rescue four SEALs, including Marcus Luttrell, the "Lone Survivor." Hatch's treatment of this well-known tragedy avoids sensationalism, presenting it as one more example of the risks special operations personnel accept as routine.
The book's final significant incident involves what Hatch calls "throwing the friend under the bus." At a speaking engagement to Navy fighter pilots, the fly fisherman, one of the crew who saved Hatch's life, attended incognito, asking Hatch beforehand not to reveal his identity. During the question period, Hatch established ground rules: "Don't ask me classified information and don't ask how many people I killed. Nobody goes around with a stethoscope to see who's dead in a firefight." In the silence that followed, the fly fisherman asked, "How many people did you kill?" Hatch immediately identified him and proceeded to call him out to the group, who loved the exchange. The moment captures both the bond among special operations personnel and their dark humor about experiences civilians cannot comprehend.
Throughout the narrative, Hatch maintains a self-deprecating tone that undercuts any tendency toward hero worship. Speaking of reenlistment, he notes, "I volunteered to reenlist just as many times as other people didn't volunteer." This formulation perfectly captures his refusal to claim special virtue for choices that involved both courage and calculation.
The book succeeds because it refuses to choose between competing narratives about war. Hatch neither glorifies combat nor condemns it, neither celebrates his service nor regrets it.
Touching the Dragon makes essential contributions to our understanding of both special operations and PTSD. Hatch demonstrates that the most elite warriors face the same psychological struggles as other combat veterans, perhaps more intensely because of repeated exposure to violence. His honesty about suicide attempts, drug dependence, and irrational behavior during recovery challenges stereotypes about toughness and resilience. Real strength, he suggests, lies in acknowledging vulnerability and seeking help, in touching the dragon rather than pretending it doesn't exist.
For readers seeking to understand modern warfare, special operations, or the psychological cost of combat, Touching the Dragon offers indispensable insight. Hatch writes as a practitioner, not a theorist, someone who lived the reality rather than studied it. His observations about strategy, tactics, and policy carry the authority of direct experience. His analysis of PTSD comes from someone who fought through it rather than observed it clinically.
The book ultimately argues for a more honest conversation about what we ask of those who fight our wars and what we owe them when they return. Hatch never claims victim status or demands special treatment, but he insists on recognition of the genuine costs of sustained combat operations. His recovery depended on military and civilian medical care, the support of fellow warriors, and his own determination to confront rather than avoid his trauma. Not everyone receives such support, and not everyone survives the attempt.
Touching the Dragon stands as a testament to the men and women who conduct the most dangerous military operations, the animals who serve alongside them, and the long struggle to reclaim normalcy after sustained exposure to violence. Hatch offers no easy answers or comfortable conclusions, only the hard-won wisdom of someone who went to the darkest places and found his way back. His final message proves both simple and profound: acknowledge the dragon, touch it, and refuse to let it define you.
James Hatch's Touching the Dragon, written with Christian D'Andrea, stands as one of the most brutally honest accounts of special operations combat and its psychological aftermath. This memoir traces Hatch's unlikely journey from high school dropout to elite Navy SEAL, through 150 combat missions, to his near-death experience and subsequent battle with PTSD. The result is a book that refuses easy heroism while documenting extraordinary courage, both in combat and in confronting invisible wounds.
Hatch's path to the SEALs followed an unconventional route. After failing in high school, he joined the Army before switching to the Navy to pursue SEAL training. His first attempt at BUD/S (Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training) ended in failure when he dropped out. Rather than abandoning his goal, he served three years as an ordinary sailor before returning to BUD/S and successfully qualifying. This persistence would define his career. He became an accomplished skydiver and airborne videographer before finally making what he calls "the big time": selection to DEVGRU, commonly known as SEAL Team Six, the Navy's most elite special operations unit.
The writing quality throughout proves exceptional, likely due to D'Andrea's collaboration, though certain sections suggest Hatch's own voice breaking through with raw authenticity. The book never glorifies violence but presents combat with clinical precision and emotional honesty. Over his career, Hatch conducted approximately 150 "capture or kill" missions in Iraq and Afghanistan, operations that form the backbone of America's counterterrorism strategy but remain largely invisible to the public.
Hatch's narrative centers on his partnership with military working dogs, whom he credits with saving countless lives including his own. He claims responsibility for getting dogs integrated into special forces and DEVGRU operations. His dog Spike demonstrated an almost supernatural ability to sense danger, once tugging on Hatch to make him turn around and see a problem he had been unaware of. In another operation, his dog Lion jumped on five men setting up a machine gun in a ditch. The enemy fighters were so surprised and scared that Hatch's team was able to eliminate all of them before they fired a shot.
The book provides unflinching detail about the reality of counterterrorism operations. Military working dogs could distinguish military-age males from children, a capability that proved crucial in complex urban environments. Hatch recounts instances where his team saved children while engaging fighters who used them as shields. In one particularly disturbing case, a target sent his children out ahead, saying later in perfect English, "I don't want my children interfering with my jihad." Another operation resulted in the capture of several insurgents and the discovery of a young boy who had been wandering the streets, taken in by these men, and raped daily. Hatch concludes that account with the grim wish: "I wish the rapists had pulled guns on us."
The book's central tragedy occurred on Hatch's 150th mission, an operation attempting to rescue Bowe Bergdahl just days after his desertion. During this mission, Hatch was shot in the thigh at very close range with an AK-47, an injury that practically destroyed his femur. In the chaos of the same firefight, his dog Spike was killed when Hatch fired two rounds into a large military-age male who was attacking the animal. The rounds passed through the insurgent and struck Spike fatally. Hatch nearly bled to death but survived thanks to what he calls "the fly fisherman" and other members of his crew who treated his wound in darkness and got him medevaced within thirty minutes, preserving the crucial "golden hour" for trauma care.
Hatch offers high praise for helicopter pilots and even higher praise for the medics and doctors who saved his life in the field and later "put him back together physically but not in the head." This distinction between physical and psychological recovery forms the book's central theme. The medical details prove extensive and sometimes harrowing. Hatch spent months, possibly years, heavily medicated and struggling with the reality of his injuries. At one point, convinced he had been kidnapped to Korea, he looked up at medical staff and informed them he was going to kill everyone. From the looks on their faces, he notes, they believed him.
His rank of Senior Chief brought certain privileges, including visits from Defense Secretary Robert Gates, who asked at the door, "May I come in?" Hatch's response captured his irreverent spirit: "You're the Secretary of Defense. Am I allowed to say no?" The Secretary of the Navy also visited to present him with the Purple Heart. Yet rank and medals could not address his fundamental struggle with pain, drugs, and psychological trauma.
The book's treatment of PTSD proves revelatory in its honesty. Hatch struggled for years to identify and acknowledge his condition. In one crisis, he put a pistol in his mouth and announced his intention to commit suicide. His wife disarmed him, so he grabbed a kitchen knife. She took that away and called his team, who told her to call the police since they were closer. The responding officers proved remarkably understanding, treating a decorated warrior in crisis with the respect and care he needed.
Recovery proved neither linear nor complete. In the hospital, Hatch refused to use a bedpan despite being unable to stand, declaring, "I'll do whatever the hell I want." The nurse looked at him and said, "I don't care who you are. I am the nurse and you're gonna do what I say." This confrontation, and his eventual acceptance of help, marked a turning point in his psychological recovery.
The book's title, Touching the Dragon, refers to Hatch's method for confronting PTSD. He conceptualizes the dragon as fire-breathing fear and trauma, specifically the mistakes he believed he made when he was shot and his dog was killed. Under psychiatric care in both military and civilian hospitals, he learned to "touch the dragon" rather than flee from it, confronting his trauma directly rather than avoiding it through substances or denial.
A pivotal moment in his recovery came in the civilian psychiatric hospital where he met a woman who had been raped at age eleven by two uncles in front of her drunk father on Christmas Eve. The encounter forced perspective: "I volunteered. She did not. What does she think of every Christmas?" This woman's courage in facing trauma she never chose proved transformative for Hatch's understanding of his own wounds.
His relationship with Congresswoman Gabby Giffords provides another thread of meaning through the narrative. Hatch had met Giffords before her shooting, taking her skydiving in Arizona where she was strapped to him during the jump. She visited him during his recovery and asked how she could help. He asked her to hug his crew when she visited them in Afghanistan, which she did immediately upon arrival. When Giffords was shot in the head in 2011, Hatch came to visit her. His perspective proved characteristically direct: "I was shot in the leg. She was shot in the head." Despite severe speech difficulties, when Hatch walked into her room, Giffords managed to say, "Jimmy Hatch." Later, he took her skydiving again, helping her reclaim something trauma had nearly stolen.
One member of his DEVGRU unit who aided Hatch's psychological recovery had been shot twenty-seven times. Hatch notes, "I was shot only once." This comparison provided crucial perspective during his darkest moments, reminding him that others had endured worse and continued living.
The book includes sharp observations about American military strategy and policy. When the United States invaded Iraq and then fired the entire Iraqi army, Hatch asks simply, "What are those men going to do?" His answer: "That's what they did," becoming the insurgency that cost thousands of American and Iraqi lives. He expresses contempt for nation-building approaches disconnected from reality: "We can't make people fight for themselves. Good intentions are a bad strategy." His alternative: "Find the people whose daughters go to school and arm the fathers so girls stay in school."
Hatch identifies a "huge separation between those who actually fight and the people who facilitate," criticizing the bubble mentality in Washington he calls "Bubbletastics." In one incident, he asked a senior officer about Pakistan offering sanctuary to insurgents, information he had heard on Meet the Press. The briefer responded that the information was "close hold," classified. Hatch's response: "What the fuck do you mean it's close hold? That was on Meet the Press yesterday."
His criticism extends to how America conducts counterinsurgency: "When you start a war, you use special forces to kill the bad guys but don't bring in a gaggle of ground army. Boots on the ground means a big footprint where bases look like the US, have Orange Julius and Burger King, and don't permit firing on the base." This bloated approach, he argues, undermines the mission's effectiveness while increasing American vulnerability.
Hatch expresses limited respect for local Iraqi fighters: "They were so used to being the only ones with guns." In one night raid, an interpreter decided to believe a woman who said an old man was inside a structure the team feared might be booby-trapped. The interpreter went in alone and brought out the old man, demonstrating courage that earned Hatch's genuine admiration, a quality he rarely extends.
After retiring from the military, Hatch attended college and returned to skydiving, which requires functional legs, something he had to relearn. He began helping other veterans skydive and spoke to firefighters and Navy personnel about seeking help for psychological trauma. His message proved simple and direct: "Go get help." One double amputee kept working at skydiving with a specific goal: he wanted kids to look at him and say, "Look at that. I wish I didn't have legs," transforming his disability into inspiration.
Hatch notes that military working dogs "never had a choice" about their service, unlike him, who volunteered repeatedly. He now pays tribute to his dogs Spike, Lion, and Remco through Spike's K9 Fund, which provides bulletproof vests for military and police working dogs. This work represents his attempt to honor animals who gave their lives without choosing to serve.
The book references the Redwing incident where a helicopter carrying sixteen men was shot down while attempting to rescue four SEALs, including Marcus Luttrell, the "Lone Survivor." Hatch's treatment of this well-known tragedy avoids sensationalism, presenting it as one more example of the risks special operations personnel accept as routine.
The book's final significant incident involves what Hatch calls "throwing the friend under the bus." At a speaking engagement to Navy fighter pilots, the fly fisherman, one of the crew who saved Hatch's life, attended incognito, asking Hatch beforehand not to reveal his identity. During the question period, Hatch established ground rules: "Don't ask me classified information and don't ask how many people I killed. Nobody goes around with a stethoscope to see who's dead in a firefight." In the silence that followed, the fly fisherman asked, "How many people did you kill?" Hatch immediately identified him and proceeded to call him out to the group, who loved the exchange. The moment captures both the bond among special operations personnel and their dark humor about experiences civilians cannot comprehend.
Throughout the narrative, Hatch maintains a self-deprecating tone that undercuts any tendency toward hero worship. Speaking of reenlistment, he notes, "I volunteered to reenlist just as many times as other people didn't volunteer." This formulation perfectly captures his refusal to claim special virtue for choices that involved both courage and calculation.
The book succeeds because it refuses to choose between competing narratives about war. Hatch neither glorifies combat nor condemns it, neither celebrates his service nor regrets it.
Touching the Dragon makes essential contributions to our understanding of both special operations and PTSD. Hatch demonstrates that the most elite warriors face the same psychological struggles as other combat veterans, perhaps more intensely because of repeated exposure to violence. His honesty about suicide attempts, drug dependence, and irrational behavior during recovery challenges stereotypes about toughness and resilience. Real strength, he suggests, lies in acknowledging vulnerability and seeking help, in touching the dragon rather than pretending it doesn't exist.
For readers seeking to understand modern warfare, special operations, or the psychological cost of combat, Touching the Dragon offers indispensable insight. Hatch writes as a practitioner, not a theorist, someone who lived the reality rather than studied it. His observations about strategy, tactics, and policy carry the authority of direct experience. His analysis of PTSD comes from someone who fought through it rather than observed it clinically.
The book ultimately argues for a more honest conversation about what we ask of those who fight our wars and what we owe them when they return. Hatch never claims victim status or demands special treatment, but he insists on recognition of the genuine costs of sustained combat operations. His recovery depended on military and civilian medical care, the support of fellow warriors, and his own determination to confront rather than avoid his trauma. Not everyone receives such support, and not everyone survives the attempt.
Touching the Dragon stands as a testament to the men and women who conduct the most dangerous military operations, the animals who serve alongside them, and the long struggle to reclaim normalcy after sustained exposure to violence. Hatch offers no easy answers or comfortable conclusions, only the hard-won wisdom of someone who went to the darkest places and found his way back. His final message proves both simple and profound: acknowledge the dragon, touch it, and refuse to let it define you.
July 2, 2018
Are you a fan of Navy Seal literature? Need I say anymore?
August 19, 2018
Great book. I thought the parts with Rep. Giffords in it were interesting.
July 28, 2025
Touching the Dragon by James Hatch is an exceptional memoir that blends vivid storytelling, raw honesty, and deep compassion. Jimmy takes you from the intensity of combat missions as a Navy SEAL to the even more harrowing battle with personal trauma and recovery. The writing is superb—tight, emotional, and impactful—and the storytelling is so engaging that you feel like you're right there beside him through every high and low.
What really stands out is how much of Jimmy’s personality shines through. His humor, humility, and fierce compassion are woven throughout the book. You don’t just read about a brave and tough operator—you come to know a deeply human guy who continued to serve long after his military career ended, saving the lives of both people and dogs through his work with Spike’s K9 Fund. His grit and character don’t stop at the battlefield; they transcend into every aspect of his civilian life.
On a personal note, when I first started CrossFit, I was severely overweight. During a 400-meter warm-up run, I gave up halfway through and started walking while the rest of the group pulled ahead. Not long after, I heard a metal clanking sound behind me and Jimmy shouting, “If my crippled ass catches you, I’m gonna beat your ass!” It was hilarious—and exactly what I needed to push through and finish the run. That’s Jimmy in a nutshell: brutally honest, incredibly funny, and fiercely motivating in a way only someone who’s lived through hell and come out stronger can be.
Touching the Dragon isn’t just a war story—it’s a deeply human story about pain, vulnerability, and redemption. Jimmy’s willingness to be vulnerable and share his struggles with PTSD and suicidal thoughts is not just brave—it’s transformative. This book is a gift, and I recommend it to anyone who appreciates a powerful story about resilience, purpose, and the long road back from darkness.
What really stands out is how much of Jimmy’s personality shines through. His humor, humility, and fierce compassion are woven throughout the book. You don’t just read about a brave and tough operator—you come to know a deeply human guy who continued to serve long after his military career ended, saving the lives of both people and dogs through his work with Spike’s K9 Fund. His grit and character don’t stop at the battlefield; they transcend into every aspect of his civilian life.
On a personal note, when I first started CrossFit, I was severely overweight. During a 400-meter warm-up run, I gave up halfway through and started walking while the rest of the group pulled ahead. Not long after, I heard a metal clanking sound behind me and Jimmy shouting, “If my crippled ass catches you, I’m gonna beat your ass!” It was hilarious—and exactly what I needed to push through and finish the run. That’s Jimmy in a nutshell: brutally honest, incredibly funny, and fiercely motivating in a way only someone who’s lived through hell and come out stronger can be.
Touching the Dragon isn’t just a war story—it’s a deeply human story about pain, vulnerability, and redemption. Jimmy’s willingness to be vulnerable and share his struggles with PTSD and suicidal thoughts is not just brave—it’s transformative. This book is a gift, and I recommend it to anyone who appreciates a powerful story about resilience, purpose, and the long road back from darkness.
June 29, 2021
"People will rightly assume and that I saw amazing things as a warfighter. But I saw equally amazing things as a recovering person.
In gun fights, what made us potent was not the gear, guns, and macho nonsense that movies and video games sensationalize. It was drive, professionalism, and love for each other- the same traits I saw in the segment of society that saved my life and repaired my spirit after I was shot. The difference is, the heroes of my second war will never get medals for the work they did."
In gun fights, what made us potent was not the gear, guns, and macho nonsense that movies and video games sensationalize. It was drive, professionalism, and love for each other- the same traits I saw in the segment of society that saved my life and repaired my spirit after I was shot. The difference is, the heroes of my second war will never get medals for the work they did."
June 26, 2021
Let me say what this book is not. It is not the chronicles of the heroic exploits of a superman Navy Seal who rides off into the sunset. There’s nothing whitewashed about it. It is an open, thoughtful telling (and it’s very well told) of the building up, breaking down, and rebuilding of a man who went through hell and back, as many in our military have. It’s about the fierce love that got him through — his wife, his brothers in arms, and the dogs. The dogs! The heroes that I’d never even heard about. This book made me laugh, cry, gasp, and think whole a lot about so many things — the complexities of war, PTSD, policy, what these special ops guys go through, friendship, love, and of course the dogs. An amazing, important story.
June 12, 2021
Really puzzled by anything less than a 5 star review here. I’ve read almost every SEAL book out there and this either tops the list or is #2 next to Fearless. Incredible story from the warriors that do the US’ dirty work: defending freedom around the world. Read it. Understand the hidden scars of wars. Be like the fly fisherman.
March 7, 2025
I read this book for research, but I sincerely enjoyed it. There were moments I was laughing and others where I was crying. The focus on mental health and the struggle to battle many “wars” was described in a way that was relatable for being so unlike any of my own experiences.
There is something to learn on every page.
4 ⭐️
There is something to learn on every page.
4 ⭐️
September 15, 2019
Excellent read
Recommended for anyone to read. Even if you’re not going through one of life’s ambushes doesn’t mean someone you know and care about isn’t. This booked helped solidify my ideals and opened my eyes up to a lot more.
Recommended for anyone to read. Even if you’re not going through one of life’s ambushes doesn’t mean someone you know and care about isn’t. This booked helped solidify my ideals and opened my eyes up to a lot more.
April 2, 2024
An incredibly touching book about the impacts of war on the individual mind and body. Jimmy is an excellent story teller and the flow of this book makes it a very easy read. It feels as if he is sitting in the room with you and just having a casual conversation.
October 17, 2018
I like the first part of the book best - his descriptions of going into battle and what that was like. The story of his recovery and aftermath wasn't written as well in my opinion.
March 27, 2020
WOW
What an excellent, inspiring, honest look at the human spirit.
It’s also a Great Story!
I feel it was a privilege to be let into Jimmy’s world.
Thanks for sharing, James!
What an excellent, inspiring, honest look at the human spirit.
It’s also a Great Story!
I feel it was a privilege to be let into Jimmy’s world.
Thanks for sharing, James!
December 13, 2022
Decent at best, very repetitive and slow at some parts, some pretty cool and interesting stories at other but those are very short lived
October 20, 2025
🎧 my appreciation for those who serve, my knowledge on wartime logistics, and my awe for trained dogs all grew from this piece. 👏
July 17, 2020
Amazing story of an incredible man and his journey through his life's challenges. Highly recommend for anyone seeking greater insight into the complexity of emotions that face those who protect our shores overseas. Always thankful for individuals like James Hatch protecting America abroad and improving it at home.
June 28, 2020
Incredible story, even more incredible journey.
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