Geo

Join some of the most highly trained operators in the world as they rescue American computer nerds from a brawny Bosnian brothel.

Aggressive, dangerous, spirited, creative, and risky training is what prepares soldiers for the unspeakable horror of combat.

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.

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.

And in that moment, as I staggered through the chaotic market with my mismatched attire and a belly full of couscous, I realized that sometimes survival in a foreign land is less about blending in and more about embracing the absurdity of your own existence.

In the midst of my grimy, sun-baked adventure through Fez, squatting by a rank canal to wash my battle-worn towel, I cut a fine figure of a man—a disheveled, bearded mess in ripped sleeves and sandals, puffing on a camel poo cigarette, and navigating the wretched beauty of a country that both fascinated and wrenched my soul.

In the heart of Sarajevo’s war-ravaged streets, I shared a dubious cup of tea with Ivan, who, amid the rubble and ruin, clung fiercely to his pride and humanity.

Sleep teases me like a phantom, ever elusive, whispering promises it never keeps, leaving me tangled in the torment of endless, dreamless nights.

Geo sends us on a heart-pounding journey through a tempestuous sea, where every wave and storm brings a new challenge, yet the unyielding spirit of camaraderie and resilience shines brightly amidst the chaos.

As the heavens unleashed their fury, the sight of St. Elmo’s fire cascading from my antenna burned into my memory, a hauntingly beautiful spectacle amid the chaos of the storm.

Where we lay on our backs in this cornfield shoulder to shoulder we grasped our muskets tightly with our hands and held them close to our bodies across our chests. The volume of Union fire just barely above our heads was so great … I contemplated that if I were to extended my finger straight […]