War Stories

Under Saddam, theft wasn’t a crime—it was the national business model, sanctified by fear, filmed for posterity, and sold back to the people like a bad memory on repeat.

In the heat of action, our careful plans often collide with the unpredictable, reminding us that control is just an illusion.

Woody Williams didn’t just carry a flamethrower into the jaws of hell—he carried the weight of his fallen brothers, and somehow kept walking.

I joined the Navy chasing a SEAL dream, got detoured into Search and Rescue by a well-meaning but clueless recruiter, and ended up earning my place in one of the toughest, most elite programs in the fleet — all while figuring out manhood, loyalty, and what it means to save someone who once saved you.

The entry-level training course at the unit was several months long and very tedious, with strict rules governing performance; violation of the performance standard was taken in all seriousness and was ground for dismissal.

Bob Denard didn’t just survive the post-colonial chaos of Africa—he thrived in it, turning coup-making into a career and casting a long shadow where state power met mercenary ambition.

Theodore Roosevelt Jr. didn’t just carry his father’s famous name ashore on D-Day—he carried the fight, a cane, and the kind of guts that turned chaos into victory.

We launched for war in the dead of night, rucks strapped tight and nerves tighter—only to turn around midair and win a battle no one would ever hear about.

As we marched through the ancient dust of Iraq, chasing the mythic promise of Eden, I couldn’t shake the feeling that what we were truly searching for wasn’t a place—but the fragile hope that such a place might still exist.

James P. Fleming didn’t fly into danger for medals or headlines—he did it because six men needed saving and he was the last man left who could do it.

CQB is all about raw courage and simple tactics, where real warriors charge into the unknown while others just talk.

The Biblical Wilderness wasn’t some metaphorical idea anymore—it was a sand-scoured reality where time held its breath and ancient suffering walked barefoot beside us.