The writing is terrible, even with the ghost writer, who I presume wanted to preserve Owen's down-home style, or pretend he had one. The content is sociologically interesting. I mean if you want to know what goes on in the mind of one Navy SEAL, especially one who protesteth far too much, here you go. Definitely no hero.
Some things that stood out for me:
A little pocket of Americana I never personally had any experience with: "I purchased my first assault rifle at school from my [high school] history teacher. It was an AR-15, a civilian version of the military's M-4. I'd earned the money for the rifle doing odd jobs for people in the village and working construction in the summer. Between classes, I paid my teacher seven hundred dollars, then took the rifle and locked it in my locker until the end of school. When the bell rang, I put it on the back of my snowmobile and rode home."
The video game nature of war to him: "The fighters tried to skid to a stop and raise their rifles in a weak-ass attempt to get some shots off. Before they even had a chance to level their AK-47s, Bert and the PJ fired multiple rounds into each fighter. They went down in a heap at the mouth of the alley... Both fighters were killed in action. I felt instant gratification. We'd gotten them. We'd missed on the first try, but didn't get discouraged."
"The drone's sensor operator fired an infrared laser, like a giant laser pointer, at the fighters' location. Under our night vision, it looked like a giant finger pointing to the fighters' exact location. It was something out of a video game."
But remember:
"Everyone moved as quietly as we we possibly could... After all, this wasn't a video game. You can't just get shot and re-spawn in place."
The way that "assaults," which the military seems to curiously use in place of "attack" (we "assaulted" the compound, we went on "assault," the "assaulters" were in position) seemed to turn him on: "As I watched the footage, I could make out the assaulters moving silently toward the target compound. I had done the same thing a million time, so I knew exactly how those guys felt. I was still getting excited just watching them. I knew their senses were on fire..."
As often happens in war, the enemy is dehumanized. In this case, just completely disregarded as human beings. In one chapter, the After Action Review, an interesting process in which every mission is completely dissected with the aim of improving the next one, is discussed. Mistakes were made. As a result of such a review, two escaped Taliban commanders are caught and killed and will "never be a threat again." However, he says, "many AARs and the lessons learned in them aren't so simple. Sometimes people die because we haven't clearly communicated and learned from our mistakes." Semantics: who are people, and who are not-people?
Man, there are a lot of drones flying around out there. In any movie, we would kind of be the bad guys, right? The evil empire with all the technology hunting down the ragtag rebels hiding in the hills and caves? Just saying. Strangely inverted iconography.
Anyhow, it just goes to show that despite huge technological advantages, you can't "win" a war/struggle if you don't put the right political strategies in place--eg, if you are going to kiss Pakistan's ass (Owen doesn't speak to this, so you have to go read other books to get this, such as The Wrong Enemy by Carlotta Gall) and let the Taliban take refuge there. I disagree with Owen's discussion about how the enemy manipulates the rules of engagement--or rather, I don't disagree that they do, but I think the cost of us ignoring them is too high. Still, clearly these rules put sometimes unreasonable constraints on getting the job done and I wonder if a more workable balance can't be found.
There was a curious disrespect for the abilities of the Afghan fighters the SEALs were supposed to be training. The SEALs did not seem to want to be doing this--the Afghans were thought to be slowing the SEALs down. Shouldn't there be more enthusiasm for teaching these guys and helping them become better fighters so the Americans can leave? There was almost a scorn that they didn't speak English, too, as if they should, rather than any consideration that the SEALs should be speaking Afghan. Kind of funny. Plus, I wondered why the Afghans would be such terrible fighters when many Afghans on our side had fought alongside the Taliban against the Soviets back in the day and were pretty tough fighters... why weren't the Afghan commandos recruited from those ranks?
Basically, this book went some distance to confirm my suspicion that despite his talk of sacrifice, these guys aren't especially patriotic. They may think they are, but if they'd been born in Russia or China or Saudi Arabia, they'd be loyal THERE, and probably members of THEIR elite forces. They're the same guys all over the world. They're in these roles because of the challenge, because of the nature of the work, because they see being a SEAL, or whatever branch of special forces they've chosen, as being the best of the best, kind of like how people who go to Harvard Law think THEY are the best of the best. ("I never wanted to be normal. I can't be average." Me either.) It's not that I don't believe that they feel some connection to American ideology, but I'd bet if they were born in another country they'd connect to that ideology, because they're just that kind of person--a person who is born loyal. Born to excel but also born to serve.
As for sacrifice, yes, there's a lot of it, but Olympic athletes also sacrifice, as do Himalayan climbers, and even elite scientists, doctors, and lawyers make sacrifices in favor of their careers at the expense of families and social lives. Not everyone lays their life on the line (climbers do). I suspect that for these SEAL guys that's a lot of the rush, and therefore not as much of a sacrifice as it might seem. I actually don't get the sense that these guys mind risking their lives so much. You can't simultaneously say you're no hero and be miffed when you're not getting a medal.
I do think the families make sacrifices, but maybe that's the issue--is it irresponsible for a commando to have a family? I think that about elite climbers, sometimes.
Owen argues that SEAL training insulates them from PTSD. Some might beg to differ, but perhaps there are re-entry difficulties all the same, and perhaps some of this is due to the intense experience of team identity he describes. I wonder if it would be easier for a fighter from an elite unit to re-enter a more collectivist society?
Anyhow, I agree. These guys aren't heros. They're job-doers. They do jobs that are difficult, dangerous, and apparently, very rewarding and exciting for them. They sacrifice, but I wondered how much of the sacrifice was for *us* and how much of it was so that they could be better, faster, stronger, etc.