Also equipped with two pintle mounts, one located at the right-side crew door and the other on the left-hand side at the first window, the MH-47E is capable of accepting a single machine gun, either an M60D single-barrel 7.62-mm medium machine gun or a single M134 7.62-mm six-barreled Minigun capable of firing two thousand to four thousand rounds per minute. With two guns up front at the cabin door and the left-side gunner’s window (M134s) and two guns in back at the machine-gun cutouts (M240 7.62-mm machine guns), it is a wellarmed aerial platform.
After the flight-readiness check, Easter took the lead helo, Turbine 21, skyward. Turbine 22 followed. Both helos headed northeast toward the treacherous and unforgiving Hindu Kush range, a sixty-two-minute trip by air. To decrease the signature, or noise, of approaching forces, Turbine 22 broke formation at a predesignated point and proceeded to Asadabad to wait, then relocated to the forward operating base (FOB) at Jalalabad (J-bad), about a fifteen-minute flight from the designated insertion point. There, commanders monitored both the reconnaissance element insertion and the first twenty-four hours of the mission. In a cold, driving rain, Turbine 21 continued up Sawtalo Sar on its seven-minute trip to an altitude of nine thousand feet in search of its landing zone (LZ). The engines struggled in the thinning atmosphere and driving rain, and the helo lurched to the left and right, shuddered, and vibrated. As they gained altitude and headed away from the lights of J-bad, Easter, Bradley, and Swartz noticed the ominous campfires and lights of local villagers and ACM.
“Ten minutes!” yelled Oster as he turned toward the SEALs. Murphy acknowledged and gave a thumbs-up. The SEALs reviewed their plan of operation, equipment, and communications. Murphy and his team mentally prepared for their insertion. Bradley heard a radio communication from an AC-130 gunship circling overhead stating that it was “breaking station”—leaving its assigned area due to low fuel. Although another AC-130 was on its way, it had not arrived, thereby depriving the helo of air support, one of the all-important abort criteria. As the air mission commander, Bradley had a decision to make: abort the mission, or continue on and hope the relieving AC-130 arrived quickly. Aware of the critical importance of the mission to CJSOTF-A commanders, Bradley requested a status report on the primary helicopter landing zone, Nez Perce, and the alternate, Neka. Bradley was informed that LZ Nez Perce was clear but infrared sensors placed four individuals at LZ Neka. The two LZs were about 3.2 miles (5 kilometers) apart. Bradley informed the flight crew and the SEALs of the situation and his decision to continue with the mission. Murphy nodded affirmatively.
“Six minutes!” Murphy again acknowledged as Oster opened the rear ramp and both he and the crew chiefs prepared the aircraft for landing. “Three minutes!” Murphy again acknowledged, then he and the SEALs got on their feet and checked their equipment to ensure it was secure. Oster noticed Murphy communicate with each of his teammates, who all responded with an affirmative nod. As the helo approached, LZ Nez Perce was covered with fifteen-to-twenty-foot-tall trees, large tree stumps, thick brush, and large boulders. Easter tried repeatedly to find a safe “sweet spot” to set the helo down but was unsuccessful, which necessitated a fast-rope insertion. Oster immediately pulled the 1¾-inch-diameter nylon fast rope down from the fast rope insertion/extraction system (FRIES), secured it to the helo’s frame, and kicked it out the door. He then turned to Murphy and said, “One minute.”
Easter handed off the visual control to Oster, who obtained a direct visual of the LZ. Oster acknowledged visual contact: “Roger, Budweiser!” Oster gave Murphy a thumbs-up, which he returned.
Easter performed a flare maneuver by pitching the nose up, which would normally cause the helicopter to gain altitude, while at the same time reducing power to prevent a climb from occurring. This allowed the aircraft to hover over a suitable site. With the rear ramp down, Oster monitored the fast rope dangling from the back of the aircraft to the landing zone some thirty feet below and ensured that the rope reached the ground. Two crew chiefs manned the helo’s Miniguns and kept an eye on the LZ for enemy activity and fire. Oster gave Murphy another thumbs-up, which he again returned. The SEALs walked toward the rope with their hands over their heads, hanging onto the overhead FRIES support bar. Murphy and his men were dressed in full combat gear—knee and elbow pads, weapons, helmet, goggles, a rucksack containing about eighty-five pounds of food, ammunition, communications, and other supplies—and were wearing their all-important Kevlar Cobra tactical gloves, which prevented friction from burning their hands as they rapidly descended the rope. As the cold driving rain continued, the first one down was Dietz, followed by Luttrell, Murphy, and Axelson.
During the insertion Oster communicated with the crew: “First man on the rope ... second man ... third man ... last man on the rope ... last man on the ground.” The precision fast-rope insertion took approximately fifteen seconds. Without the weight of the SEALs on the rope, the prop wash of the helicopter’s rotor blades caused the fast rope to snake around a small tree and become entangled in the heavy brush, which anchored and threatened the aircraft. With everyone on the same communication frequency, Oster informed both Easter and the SEAL team about the fast rope. Easter carefully maneuvered the helo in an attempt to free the rope, but without success. Although it was not part of the operational plan, Oster advised both the SEALs and Easter that cutting the rope was the only way to free the helo. Dietz acknowledged and Oster cut the fast rope. Looking down from the ramp, Oster saw Dietz and Axelson run toward and secure the rope as Murphy and Luttrell monitored the perimeter. Dietz acknowledged possession of the rope. The ramp was raised, and Easter pointed his helo back down the mountain toward J-bad airfield. Dietz and Axelson covered the rope with brush, weeds, grass, sticks, rocks, and dirt, then each member of the team moved about twenty yards apart and froze into the landscape for fifteen minutes in total silence—no movement, no communication.
By this time, Easter had returned the helo to J-Bad. Upon entering the Operations Center, Lieutenant Colonel John Dunson and Captain Bradley were approached by Lieutenant Commander Kristensen and Senior Chief Healy, who had monitored mission communications regarding the cutting of the fast rope. All agreed that it was not part of the operational briefing. After the Army officers described the situation at the LZ and the reason for cutting the rope, Kristensen and Healy accepted the explanation, but inquired as to the possibility of the 160th returning and retrieving the rope to prevent its detection by ACM. Their thinking was that due to the size of the rope, the SEALs would be unable to carry it with them.
Bradley explained that the only way to retrieve the rope in that terrain was to lower a man by hoist, find the rope, which had been hidden, and then extract it. Bradley also explained in detail the difficulties they had just encountered with the insertion and that such an attempt could bring unwanted attention to the SEAL team. Dunson concurred and voiced his concern about such a return mission. Kristensen and Healy recognized the danger in such a mission and withdrew their request.
Flight crews and mission commanders in the Operations Center were able to monitor the team’s progress because it was carrying a tracking beacon. As the SEALs moved slowly toward their target objective in the cold, driving rain, they counted two fires or lanterns in the village below, an estimated mile away, and reported “eyes on” several local goat herders as they progressed toward their layup (LUP) position. The terrain to the right featured huge, thick trees; to the left were the forbidding mountains, low tree stumps, and thick foliage. The men were soaked and worked to keep their body temperatures up by remaining in constant motion. Although on the ground, the team was far from its planned area of operation. Dietz established quick communication with an AC-130 gunship arriving high overhead, and the team prepared to move on its preplanned four-mile journey along Sawtalo Sar’s ridge, which stretched into a long right-handed dogleg. Conditions for the team were so bad that despite being expert mountain climbers, each member fell back down the mountain within the first half hour. Murphy periodically r
adioed back to Kristensen with news of their progress as they slowly reached each predesignated checkpoint.
Exhausted after the seven-hour trip, the men rested and Dietz radioed J-bad headquarters that they were “good to go.” Murphy informed Kristensen that even though they were not at their intended layup point, he believed they had reached an even better one than anticipated and were going to lay up for the day. Hearing that, Kristensen turned to Bradley and said, “We are at a stopping point here. They are going to lay up for the day. We are good here.” The QRF loaded back up in the two helos and returned to Bagram to prepare for the assault of Shah’s compound during the next operational period. As a planned contingency, Marine forces and helos were placed on ready alert as a QRF in case Murphy’s SEALs needed them.
After a short rest, Murphy and his SEALs relocated against some trees and rocks; however, due to an incoming fog bank, their view of the village was severely limited—only two huts were visible—resulting in the team relocating yet again. After an hour-long reconnaissance by Murphy and Axelson, a perfect location was found to observe the village; however, it provided little cover. Although the new site was only about a thousand yards away, it took the team over an hour to cover the treacherous and sheer terrain.
Location Compromised
The team’s new location was over the brow of the summit, approximately eighty feet from the uppermost escarpment at an altitude of about nine thousand feet. As daylight approached, they determined that their current location was too dangerous to stay there. Despite the fact that SEALs lie low in the daylight and move at night, Murphy ordered the team to “move in five.” The men retraced their route about a hundred yards and found a prime location in the trees that overlooked the target village. The village was nearly a mile and a half away, but their location provided a clear line of sight with good concealment. With their specialized equipment, the distance proved no obstacle to their reconnaissance efforts.
In perfect hiding locations, they waited in full combat gear, soaked from the night’s rain, baking in the searing Afghan sun. In a tactical diamond-shaped formation about thirty yards apart, each was waiting with heightened vigilance and in perfect silence when a man carrying an ax and accompanied by about a hundred goats was spotted by Axelson. In perfect silence, he placed the goat herder in the crosshairs of his weapon as he approached Luttrell’s position. As the goat herder jumped down from the log under which Luttrell had positioned himself, the petty officer broke cover and the man nearly stepped on him. Immediately upon seeing Luttrell, the man tossed his ax on the ground in front of him. While Luttrell took control of the man, Axelson signaled that two more goat herders were closing in on his position. As they neared, they appeared to the carefully observing SEALs to be a father and his young son. It was clear to the team that despite the fact the first goat herder had been carrying an ax, these individuals were civilians, not ACM members. The SEALS were now in a situation known as a soft compromise. Not knowing if the entire team’s presence had been compromised, the SEALs could not afford to allow the other two herders to proceed unchallenged. The other three SEALs also broke cover as the man and his son reached their position.
The two goat herders were startled as the SEALS surrounded them. They stood motionless alongside the first man, just staring at the four Americans. In response to the team’s questions, the goat herders replied in heavily accented, broken English, “No Taliban! No Taliban!” The goat herders were directed to sit together on a nearby log as the team engaged in several minutes of discussion, followed by attempts at interrogation, which failed. Although they acknowledged understanding the team’s questions, the goat herders gave the SEALs no information and continued to stare at them. Luttrell gave the young boy a PowerBar. Without taking his eyes off Luttrell, the boy accepted it, but placed it on a rock beside him instead of eating it.
Despite the sometimes-blurred lines between different-ranking members of a SEAL team, each of the men understood the chain of command and would follow orders without question. Despite their open discussion that day,4 each man understood that the team structure was not a democracy—there was to be no consensus, and there would be no voting. After requesting and receiving appropriate and valuable input from the other members of his team, the final decision unquestionably would be made by the team leader, Lieutenant Michael Murphy. He was acutely aware of their situation and reminded his team of several important pieces of information.
1. These three individuals were clearly civilian goat herders.
2. If they aborted every mission in which they were compromised, no mission would ever be completed.
3. The SOP and ROEs for this situation were clear.
4. If they were to eliminate these three civilians, who would do the execution, how would they dispose of the bodies, and what would they do with more than a hundred goats with bells around their necks?
5. CJSOTF-A commanders were insistent on mission completion before command change.
6. Shah’s forces were continuing to inflict U.S. causalities.
7. This might be the best chance to neutralize Shah.
8. This was their last scheduled mission before deploying to Iraq.
9. This mission was why they had come to Afghanistan.
Utilizing his innate leadership and interpersonal skills, and after listening to the input of his team, Michael Murphy explained the situation and shared each of the items of concern and led his team to the only acceptable option: to set the civilian goat herders free. Murphy then gave the order. While they watched the goat herders run up the mountain and disappear out of sight, Michael ordered the team to prepare to move to a new location. Again, trained to move only at night, the team found itself in a catch-22. Within twenty minutes the men were on the move. As the OIC, Murphy understood the essence of leadership: in any moment of decision, doing the right thing was always the right thing to do ... regardless of the consequences.
The team headed for the best defensive position it could find—up the mountain. Approximately forty yards from the summit was a location with tree cover and concealment that made them nearly impossible to see. Their immediate strategy was to remain in defensive positions until the cover of darkness, then relocate. Murphy reminded his men to remain on high alert. They took up a defensive diamond position with each member about thirty yards apart. Axelson was charged with the responsibility of using binoculars and a scope to watch for Taliban fighters and monitor the village. About twenty minutes later Luttrell assumed the watch; Murphy followed him. More than an hour later, they were still in their new position, and all remained quiet.
The Battle for Murphy’s Ridge
Suddenly the silence was interrupted. “Sssssssst. Sssssssst.” It was Lieutenant Murphy’s warning sound—a familiar one to his men. He began calling out orders, among them instructions to Dietz to call for immediate reinforcements from HQ. As Murphy directed the team’s attention up the mountain, they saw about eighty to one hundred heavily armed Taliban fighters, each with an AK-47 pointed in their direction and several carrying launchers for the all-too-familiar shoulder-fired rocket-propelled grenades (RPGs). Within minutes the Taliban worked their way down the mountain on three sides, including the team’s left and right flanks. The team was sure that Axelson and Dietz’s position had in all likelihood not been compromised, but the same could not be said about Murphy and Luttrell’s. If spotted, they were trapped, with the only avenue of escape down the near-vertical nine thousand feet to the open valley below.
Up to this point, no shots had been fired. Dietz established radio contact with the J-bad communications center just as gunfire finally erupted and the sound of AK-47s filled the mountain air. A fierce firefight ensued between the four SEALs and the much larger enemy force. J-bad relayed the information to Bagram. Despite being flanked on both sides, the SEALs kept fighting. However, the sheer number of Taliban closing in on them, as well as the intensity of the gunfire and the frequent explosions of RPGs, made remaining in their curr
ent position impossible.
Nearly thirty minutes into the firefight, Dietz and Axelson had each received multiple wounds and Murphy had suffered a bullet wound to the abdomen. The wounded men began bounding down the mountain’s steep sides, making blind leaps of thirty to fifty feet into the trees, rocks, boulders, and thick shrubbery below, all the while providing each other with alternating cover fire. During their leaps downward, each man had lost his rucksack and Luttrell all of his medical supplies.
About forty-five minutes into the fight, the severely wounded Dietz sought open air space to place another distress call back to the base, but before he completed his call, he suffered another gunshot wound, this one to his right hand, shattering his thumb. Their ammunition was running low, and Dietz, Axelson, and Murphy had been severely wounded by gunfire or RPG rounds. Someone yelled, “I’m hit!” Murphy yelled back, “We’re all hit! Keep moving!”5
“Iron-Souled Warrior”
More than an hour into the fight, Dietz was dead and Axelson was suffering from multiple gunshot wounds, including one in his head. Despite being severely wounded with multiple gunshot wounds himself, Lieutenant Michael Murphy, in a last-ditch effort to save his men, broke cover and deliberately walked onto open ground in one final attempt to acquire a cell-phone signal. Recognizing the desperate condition of his team, he made the conscious decision that the only way any of his men were going to survive was to call in reinforcements. And the only way to do that in this rugged mountain terrain was to get to open ground, regardless of the cost.
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