Besides the emotional release it provided, the ramp ceremony was important to those who remained for three very distinct reasons. First, it allowed the remaining warriors to honor the service of those who had fallen. Second, because the warriors who were present at the ramp ceremony would be unable to attend the fallen men’s funeral services, it provided a sense of closure for those who remained behind. Third, for those who remained, the ceremony served as a source of strength. Warriors are inherently part of a cause greater than themselves, and, as such, they find a special strength in each other, the one that makes them so extraordinarily formidable.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
In the Presence of Warriors
I am always humbled in the presence of warriors.
—COMMODORE PETE VAN HOOSER, Commander, Naval Special Warfare Group Two, quoted at Militaryphotos.net, www.militaryphotos.net/forums.showthread.php?t=71680
July 8, 2005: Naval Amphibious Base, Little Creek, Virginia
On July 8, 2005, a memorial service was held for the dead of SEAL Team Ten. During that ceremony, Admiral Joseph Maguire, the commander of Naval Special Warfare Command, provided the opening remarks. Following Admiral Maguire’s comments and the presentation of medals to the members of the deceased warriors’ families, Commodore Pete Van Hooser approached the microphone and, after a deliberate pause, began to speak.
I am always humbled in the presence of warriors. We have been in sustained combat for over three years—things have changed.
I find myself speaking in public a lot more than I would like, but I always start by thanking four groups of people. The first are our warriors who have fallen; the second, those who have guaranteed that those who have fallen will not be left behind. Some with their bravery, others with their lives.
I thank those who have selflessly pulled themselves off the line to train the next warriors to go forward—so that they may surpass the prowess of those currently engaged.
And I am thankful for the families that nurture such men.
My remarks will be focused on these families and the men who wear the Trident. We would not be able to do our jobs without the brave men and women of the Army, Air Force, and Marine Corps. Task Unit Afghanistan of Naval Special Warfare Squadron Ten, was comprised of SEAL Team and SEAL Delivery Vehicle Team Two and One, had many U.S. Navy rates other than SEALs that trained and deployed by our side, and we recognize and are grateful for the professional efforts of all. But this time and this place is about the SEALs.
Leonidas, the Spartan King, hand-picked and led a force to go on what all knew to be a one-way mission. He selected 300 men to stand against an invading Persian force of over 2 million. They were ordered to delay the advance of the Persian Army. Selecting the battlefield was easy—the narrow mountain pass at Thermopylae restricted the combat power that the enemy could apply—allowing the superior fighting skills of the 300 Spartans to destroy the will of this Persian Army to fight. These Spartan warriors died fighting to the last man.
The Persian invaders were defeated by the Greek Army in later battles. Democracy and freedom were saved.
Most know this story. But most of us don’t know how Leonidas selected the 300 men. Should he take the older seasoned Warriors who have lived a full life? Should he take the young lions that felt they were invincible? Should he take the battlehardened, backbone-proven warrior elites in their prime? Or should he sacrifice his Olympic champions?
The force he chose reflected every demographic of the Spartan Warrior class. He selected those who would go based on the strength of the women in their lives. After such great loss, if the women faltered in their commitment, Sparta would falter and the rest of Greece would think it useless to stand against the Persian invaders. The democratic flame that started in Greece would be extinguished.
The Spartan women were strong. They did not falter. I would even argue that we live in a democracy that has freedom because of the strength, skill, and courage of these 300 men and the extraordinary will and dedication of the women in their lives.
The women in our lives are the same, I see the pride in their wearing of the Trident—I hear it in their voices when they are asked what is that symbol, and they say my husband, my son, my brother, or my dad is a Navy SEAL—usually they say nothing more.
If I were to say to the families, I feel your pain, that could not be so. I can never know the depth of your relationship or the anguish of your personal loss. What I can say is the truth of what I know. Those who wear the Trident provide only brief glimpses into our world to those on the outside. Even our families see only a limited view of the path we have chosen. We are all different, but on the inside we share many common beliefs and actions. We spend most of our adult lives with other SEALs preparing for battle.
On this occasion I feel compelled to share our innermost thoughts. I want to show you a little more of our world so you can understand the way we see, the way we feel about what happened. There is a bond between those who wear a Trident—that is our greatest strength.
It is unique to this very small community. It is unique in its intensity. It is nurtured by the way we train—the way we bring warriors into the brotherhood. This bond is born in BUD/S. It starts to grow the first time you look into the eyes of your classmate when things have gone beyond what you or he thinks is possible. It grows in the platoon as you work up for deployment, and it grows around the PT circle. It’s the moving force behind every action in a firefight. This bond is sacred. This bond is unspoken, unconditional, and unending.
When it comes to fighting we are all the same inside. During the first stages of planning, at the point you know that you are going into the battle, we think about our families. The master chief passing the word to the boys sums it up, “I am going home to my kids and you are going home to yours. Here is our next mission.”
We never stop planning—we never stop thinking through every contingency—we want to cover every anticipated enemy action. This is the way we face the risk.
There is a significant difference between inserting on a mission where there may or may not be enemy contact or serious resistance and inserting into a fight where forces are already engaged. On April 11, the men of this task unit—during their initial week in Afghanistan, immediately shifted from a helicopter training scenario directly into the fight as a quick response force to help soldiers and marines in a desperate battle. They made the difference—saving the lives of our fellow servicemen and destroying the enemy.
Last week when these fallen warriors launched on this mission, their SEAL teammates were fighting the enemy—fellow SEALs were in peril—as always in the teams—in this situation there is no hesitation. It is not about tactics—it’s about what makes men fight.
As you are going in hot—you can’t help it—you must allow one small block of personal time. You think of those at home—the people you left behind. For this brief moment, there is no war.
Our souls have touched a thousand times before this moment. Boundless undefined shadows quietly surging through and waking each other on a moonless star rich night we patiently wait for the dawn. There is no distance. You smile a cool wind that takes away thirst. I will never know hunger. I have never known fear. Unspoken—Unconditional—Unending.
It’s the same bond—now your focus returns to your SEAL teammates. Total focus on the approaching fight is all that exists.
In April, when I heard of the Task unit’s first contact that very first week in country—when I saw the reports of the enemy causalities they had inflicted—I was happy but not too happy. It’s more of a quiet internal recognition that they had executed flawlessly.
Last week when I was told of their deaths and saw what they were trying to accomplish, I was sad—but not too sad. It was more of a quiet and internal recognition that they had gone to the wall, and there was no hesitation. They were warriors—they are SEALs.
We are not callous. We don’t have the luxury of expressing our emotions at will. In these times our duty i
s to press on and finish the fight, for all depends on each man’s individual actions.
We answer to a higher moral calling on the path that requires us to take and give life. It is this dedication to ideals greater than self that gives us strength. It is the nurturing of our families that gives us courage. Love is the opposite of fear—it is the bond that is reinforced when we look in the eyes of another SEAL that drives the super human endurance. My teammate is more important than I.
The enemy we face in Afghanistan is as hard and tough as the land they inhabit. They come from a long line of warriors who have prevailed in the face of many armies for centuries. It is their intimate knowledge of every inch of the most rugged terrain on earth that is matched against our skill, cunning, and technology.
They are worthy adversaries and our intelligence confirms that they fear and respect us. They have learned to carefully choose their fights because SEALS will answer the bell every time.
When you see the endless mountains—the severe cliffs—the rivers that generate power that can be felt while standing on the bank—the night sky filled with more stars than you have ever seen—when you feel the silence of the night where no city exists—when the altitude takes your breath away and the cold and heat hits the extreme ends of the spectrum—you cannot help being captured by the raw strength of this place.
This is a great loss. These men were some of the future—high impact leaders of Naval Special Warfare, but I take refuge in the thought that there is no better place a warrior’s spirit can be released than in the Hindu Kush of the Himalayas.
In their last moments, their only thoughts were coming to the aid of SEAL brothers in deep peril. I can say that anyone wearing a Trident would gladly have taken the place of these men even with the full knowledge of what was to come.
Some of those on the outside may understand that one man who was recovered would possibly make the loss acceptable. Only those who wear the Trident know, if no one had come back, it would have all been worth the cost. These are my men. They are good men. The SEAL teams—this path is my religion. This loss will not go unanswered. I am always humbled in the presence of Warriors.
With those words spoken, he returned to his seat. The silence was deafening. In a few moments of deep introspection and verbal eloquence, he had given the complete story of the Navy SEALs and the events on June 28, 2005. He had told the story. He had told it well. The only thing left to do was to be seated. He did.
Three days later, Admiral Maguire found himself at another memorial ceremony, this time at the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific in Hawaii—the Punchbowl.
July 11, 2005: National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific
Few national cemeteries can compete with the dramatic natural setting of the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific, located in the center of Honolulu. Also known as Punchbowl, the cemetery lies in the middle of Puowaina Crater, an extinct volcano. It was officially dedicated on September 2, 1949, on the fourth anniversary of V-J Day. Of all the national cemeteries, this one has been described as the most beautiful and the most moving.
Members of the SDVT-1 SEAL community gathered at Punchbowl to honor the sacrifices of their teammates on June 28, 2005. The welcoming remarks were offered by Lieutenant Commander Alec Mackenzie, the executive officer of SEAL Delivery Vehicle Team One. He was followed by Rear Admiral Joseph Maguire. Afterward, the families of the honored dead or their representatives were presented shadow boxes.
Ideally, a shadow box serves not only as a reminder of achievements and accomplishments, but also as a summation, a culmination, of a career. An American flag was placed inside each shadow box to symbolize the country that has benefited from a lifetime of faithful service. An American flag was flown over the USS Arizona memorial on Independence Day to honor those who gave their lives on June 28, 2005, as did so many before them, so that we could be free. The shadow boxes were presented to the families of Operation Red Wings with these words: “On behalf of your fellow teammates, we present you with this shadow box. Within the shadow box lie a sailor’s most honored and cherished possessions, including the flag of the United States of America, representing a lifetime of valiant and faithful service.”
Eulogies were given for each of the dead, followed by remarks by Commander Todd DeGhetto, the commanding officer of SEAL Delivery Vehicle Team One, and Governor Linda Lingle of Hawaii. Standing with his fellow SEALs from SDVT-1, listening to their words, Lieutenant Andy Haffele was overcome with emotion. The shooting incident several years before had effectively ended his SEAL career just as it began and resulted in an initial intense anger and lingering frustration. Now Haffele realized that the shooting incident had saved his life. He knew that had the shooting not occurred he would have been on Sawtalo Sar instead of Michael—and if not on the mountain, without question he would have been on the downed helicopter.
Governor Lingle’s remarks were followed by the haunting two-bell ceremony, then by a moment of silence. The performance of “Amazing Grace,” the firing of a twenty-one-gun salute, and the playing of “Echo Taps” preceded the Benediction, given by Chaplain David Stroud, which concluded the solemn ceremony.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Memorials to a Hero
But within the willingness to die for family and home, something inside us longs for someone to die beside. Someone to lock step with, another man with a heart like our own.
—MATTHEW AXELSON, U.S. Navy SEAL, handwritten inscription on back of photograph in private collection of Daniel J. Murphy
In the summer of 2005, Brookhaven town supervisor Brian X. Foley and Councilman Timothy Mazzei began efforts to create and name a park at the Brookhaven town beach at Lake Ronkonkoma in honor of Michael Murphy. Dan Murphy and Tim are longtime friends from when both served in the Suffolk County district attorney’s office in the 1980s.
Soon after Michael’s funeral, Tim approached Dan about doing something to commemorate Michael’s life and achievements, and suggested a small piece of ground at the intersection of two streets near Lake Ronkonkoma for the placing of a monument. After further consideration, it was decided that the location was not suitable, because of its inaccessibility. Councilman Mazzei subsequently approached Dan about plans to create a memorial park at the lake. With Dan’s support the project grew, and as the concept became more widely known, local businesses and organizations pledged support with labor, supplies, and donations. The plans settled upon were ambitious and would require time, expense, and effort. As word of the project spread, other efforts were launched.
On October 7, 2005, the first annual Patrick Henry Open Golf Outing, sponsored by the Suffolk County Prosecutor’s Association, was conducted with the proceeds going to fund the newly created LT. Michael P. Murphy Memorial Scholarship Foundation.
On October 20, 2005, Representative Timothy Bishop (NY-1), along with twenty-eight cosponsors, introduced United States House of Representatives Resolution (HR) 4401, “To designate the facility of the U.S. Postal Service located at 170 East Main Street in Patchogue, New York, as the ‘Lieutenant Michael P. Murphy Post Office Building.’” Identical legislation was introduced in the Senate by Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton.
Little League Baseball Fields, April 29, 2006
With the Murphy family’s blessing, Lance Marquis and his wife, Brenda, neighbors of Maureen Murphy, began efforts to rename the Little League baseball fields where Michael played and his father coached in honor of Michael. Their efforts were successful. On April 29, 2006, hundreds of players, former players, coaches, parents, family members, and friends gathered at the ball fields, which were renamed and dedicated in Michael’s honor. The Murphy family was there, with Dan dressed in a blue jersey, Maureen in a white one, and John in a red jersey, each with “LT Murphy 1” on the back.
Lake Ronkonkoma, May 7, 2006
The bipartisan efforts to honor Michael Murphy in the town where he once was a lifeguard were successful. On what would have been Michael’s thirtieth birthday, lo
cal leaders, the media, family members, friends, and Navy officials gathered at Lake Ronkonkoma to dedicate the Navy SEAL Lt. Michael P. Murphy Memorial Park. One of the speakers was Rear Admiral Joseph Maguire.
In his remarks, he provided the most public accounting of the details of Operation Red Wings to date. He stated that satellite reconnaissance had shown that a group of about eighty Taliban fighters had been coming across the border from Pakistan. Having never seen such a large concentration of fighters in one location, CJTF commanders believed they must be guarding a high-level Taliban or al-Qaeda operative. As a result, Michael’s team had been inserted behind the fighters to perform reconnaissance on the large group. This revelation was news to everyone in attendance as well as the Murphy family.
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