"So live your life so the fear of death can never enter your heart. Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their views, and demand that they respect yours. Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and of service to your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide. When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home."
"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright, that God may love thee. Speak the truth always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless and do no wrong."
"Once more into the fray. Into the last good fight I'll ever know. Live and die on this day. Live and die on this day."
“With the Taliban launching its annual spring offensive, Brendan and his platoon started to see more action in May (2010), just as he had predicted in his email to Tom and Janet (Manion). Surrounded by jagged cliffs, extreme poverty, and acute desolation, which many of the younger SEALs had never experienced, it was Brendan’s responsibility to keep them optimistic, focused, and sharp. But considering that the SEALs were sleeping on a (base) ‘in the middle of nowhere,’ thousands of miles from home, setting a positive tone was never an easy task.
“Rather than barking out orders to the SEALs under his command, Brendan was ‘Loon-Dog.’ The enlisted SEALs, or ‘E-Dogs,’ as they were nicknamed, loved working for the 29-year-old lieutenant, because even though Brendan was an officer, he still thought of himself as just one of the guys.
“During his deployment, Brendan spent roughly the equivalent of two full weeks on ‘over watch’ missions above three districts in northern Zabul province, where the lieutenant and SEALs under his command would look down from the cliffs to make sure their brothers in arms operating below were safe from lurking Taliban and al Qaeda fighters. But after only a day or two on the high ground, Brendan was concerned that his primary responsibilities as an officer and squad commander weren’t enough of a contribution to his platoon.
“When there was extra gear to carry, the officer threw it on his back instead of ordering enlisted SEALs to carry it. Regardless of the command structure or rank, Loon-Dog treated everyone with the same respect.
“When things got dicey on the battlefield, however, there was no mistaking who was in charge, like one day when gunfire rang out beneath the over watch position Brendan’s SEAL team had established above a small, Taliban-controlled Afghan village.
“’Incoming!’ Brendan yelled.
“As bullets pounded the mountain rocks that were shielding his team, who took cover as soon as they heard their leader’s unmistakable voice, Brendan’s commanding officer (CO) asked for a status report over the radio.
“‘We’ve got enemy fire coming from just outside the village,’ Brendan said. ‘Nobody’s been hit, and we’re prepping the counterattack.’
‘Sir?’ Brendan repeated what he had said a few times before realizing the signal was dropping in and out, as it had been for most of the day.
“‘Lieutenant,’ the CO repeated. ‘If you copy, call me on the SAT (satellite) phone.’
“As soon as Brendan heard the order, he broke his crouch and stood up. The SAT phone was a few yards in front of the boulder that was protecting him.
“‘Whoa, Loon-Dog,’ exclaimed a surprised fellow SEAL. ‘Be careful, sir.’
“Brendan knew his CO wouldn’t ask him to call unless it was extremely important, and for all he knew, retrieving the satellite phone could be a matter of life and death. Without blinking, Brendan hustled toward the phone, picked it up, and returned to his position as bullets whizzed by.
“‘Loon-Dog … you all right?’ (Brendan’s teammate) said.
“‘I’m OK,’ said Brendan, acting more like he was taking an afternoon stroll than engaging in an intense firefight.
Navy SEAL Chief (SOC) Adam Brown was killed in action in Komar Province, Afghanistan on March 17, 2010. In true “Adam Brown Style” he died a true hero, placing himself in the line of fire to protect other members of his unit. Adam’s Special Ops Assault Team was assaulting an enemy compound, an operation Adam had performed many times.
The U.S. Forces were engaging the enemy in a fire fight, when a portion of the U.S. soldiers were pinned down by very heavy fire from the enemy compound. In an effort to protect his men, Adam charged the enemy from a better vantage point, drawing fire away from his pinned down comrades. His selfless action relieved the fire on his men, but it unfortunately resulted in Adam being struck by enemy fire. One other member of the American Team was wounded, but Adam’s heroic action saved the other men. The enemy compound was captured and all enemy combatants were killed in the action.
Adam was a 12 year veteran of the United States Navy, with several tours of duty overseas. He is survived by his wife and two children.
Long before Adam Brown became a member of the elite SEAL Team SIX - the counterterrorism unit that took down Osama bin Laden - there was a fun-loving country boy from Arkansas whose greatest goal had been to wear his high school’s football jersey. An undersized daredevil, prone to jumping off roofs into trees and off bridges into lakes, Adam was a kid who broke his own bones but would never break a promise to his parents … until he grew older, and his family watched that appetite for risk draw him into a downward spiral that eventually landed him in jail.
Adam was a man of extremes, whose determination was fueled by faith, family, and the love and support of his wife. He was a man who waged a war against his own worst impulses and persevered to reach the top tier of the U.S. military. Always the first to volunteer for the most dangerous assignments, Adam’s final act of bravery led to the ultimate sacrifice.
Anyone who knew Adam would tell you it was important to him that his legacy be remembered and his story be told. He spent the latter part of his life helping those around him haunted by the mistakes he made years earlier. Adam was an incredibly strong christian who loved the Lord and served him until his last, mortal breath. The majority of the members in his unit perished when the Chinook helicopter transporting them was viciously shot down while on a mission in Afghanistan on August 6, 2011, only a few short months after Adam’s death. Adam was always the first through the door to clear the way for other members of his team and in classic Adam fashion he was yet again the first through heavens door……only the last door he went through wasn’t filled with darkness and enemies, but light, with his Lord and Savior there to meet him. A light that shines down on all that knew him as a husband, father, friend, and there is no longer a need to be fearless. He’s home.
The Proper Way to Use the Fairbairn-Sykes Fighting Knife
Retired Trooper Stan W. Scott of 3 Commando discusses Close Quarters Combat with the Fairbairn-Sykes Fighting Knife. He explains the proper techniques for using the knife, which was specially designed for the Commandos by William Ewart Fairbairn and Eric Anthony Sykes in 1941.
Jeffrey S. Taylor VIRGINIA BEACH Navy SEAL Jeff Taylor died June 28, 2005, while conducting combat operations in Afghanistan. He was killed when the MH-47 Chinook helicopter he was aboard crashed into the rugged mountains of eastern Afghanistan. The helicopter was enroute to provide support to troops on the ground when it was shot down by enemy forces. He was assigned to SEAL Team Ten, Virginia Beach.
Navy Chief Petty Officer Jacques J. Fontan, 36, of New Orleans, Louisiana.
CPO Fontan died while conducting combat operations when the MH-47 helicopter that he was aboard crashed in the vicinity of Asadabad, Afghanistan in Kumar Province. He was assigned to SEAL Team Ten, Virginia Beach, Virginia.
The 36-year-old Navy SEAL was one of eight SEALs and 16 servicemen who died when their helicopter was shot down on June 28th during a rescue mission in Afghanistan.
James E. Suh was part of a dedicated Naval Special Warfare team fighting the Taliban, a fundamentalist regime that a U.S.-led coalition knocked from power in Afghanistan in 2001, but has continued to conduct guerilla operations, particularly along the Pakistan border. Suh worked to help ensure al Qaeda terrorists could not train in, nor launch strikes from Afghanistan since their lethal attack on the World Trade Center in New York on September 11, 2001.James Suh was a U.S.-born citizen of Korean immigrants. He excelled in math at the University of Florida but decided to join the Navy when he graduated. He was concerned about telling his father that he wanted to be a Navy SEAL rather than pursue a more secure future in business. A friend recounted that Suh wanted to defend a country he loved so much, and that his father took the decision better than James had expected.
Suh was one of 16 troops killed when a MH-47 Chinook helicopter was shot down in Afghanistan on June 28, on a daring daylight mission to reinforce an outnumbered four-man SEAL reconnaissance squad in 8,000-foot mountainous terrain.
Suh, seven other SEALs, and eight Army commandos died in their heroic attempt to rescue their fellow SEALs. LT Michael Murphy, Matthew Axelson, and Danny Dietz fought on courageously and were killed in the firefight against overwhelming Taliban forces.
A total of 11 SEALs died that day in the War against Terror, in the biggest single loss of life for Naval Special Warfare forces since World War II. To a man, they embodied the Navy’s core Honor, Courage and Commitment, and took care of their teammates to the end.
James Suh is remembered with the greatest respect and gratitude by his fellow SEALs, the Navy, and our nation.
SCPO (SEAL) Daniel R. Healy – Age 36 from Exeter, NH served 13 years as a Navy Seal, died on June 28, 2005 in a counterterrorism operation in Kunar Province. During a rescue mission, the MH-47 helicopter he was aboard crashed after being hit by a rocket-propelled grenade.