CAG

Cos, a true testament to resilience and excellence, navigated the toughest terrains of special operations with unwavering valor and dedication, making him not just a brother-in-arms but a legend in his own right.

In the heat of battle, as bullets whizzed by and bombs turned the night into day, Chief Coker’s voice over the radio was the calm in the storm, reminding every soul under his watch that they were not alone in this fight, forging ahead with the might of righteousness and the unwavering belief that if God is for us, then who can be against us?

Despite recognizing Hezbollah’s strength and resolve, I’ve never chosen to call it ‘fear’—a term ill-suited for instilling confidence during my tenure with Delta, where we viewed them as a formidable terrorist threat to the West.

I memorized every name in that binder not for duty’s sake, but because knowing the names of my brothers — like Jim McMahon — was how I claimed them as family.

Pat McNamara’s first jump was a brutal trial by fire, a stark reminder that in the world of airborne operations, survival often hinges on a razor’s edge between training and catastrophe.

Perhaps SEAL Team SIX forgot their clown car as they could barely lead a VIP to the local airport without disastrous results.

The 1911 in Delta was less a sidearm and more a trusted, stubborn warhorse that’d stick with you through the grit, where every scuff and dent told the story of missions endured, even if it meant taking a fall from five stories high.

The chute malfunction sent me into a spin so violent, it prevented my eyes from being able to focus on anything. Everything was a blurry smear.

He was a man of quiet strength and unfathomable skill, yet the silence between us in those final years echoed louder than any words we ever spoke.

With every fiber of my being, I knew the time had come to shed the shackles of my past, leaving behind the chaos of Delta and embracing the uncertain freedom that lay ahead.

Chuck’s blend of laid-back camaraderie and unflinching leadership made him the backbone of Delta, a commander who could sing ‘How Great Thou Art’ at a brother’s funeral one day and lead us into a chaotic urban assault the next, all while earning the unwavering respect and admiration of his men.

James Van Cleave’s ill-fated escapade with his new gloss black GMC Jimmy ended in a fiery spectacle, orchestrated by a battalion of battle-hardened pipe-hitters, forever immortalizing the truck in Fort Bragg’s legends.