Marcus Luttrell: Lone Survivor

In June 2005 the United States suffered its worst loss of life in Afghanistan since the invasion in 2001. Taliban forces had attacked a four-man team on a remote ridge shortly after 1 p.m. on June 28. By day's end, 19 Americans had died. Now U.S. aircraft scoured the hills for survivors. There would be only one. Out of that darkness comes this spark of a story. It is a tale of moral choices and of prejudices transcended. It is also a reminder of how challenging it is to be a smart soldier, and how hard it is to be a good man. Marcus Luttrell, lay in the dirt, his face shredded, his nose broken, and 3 vertebrae cracked from tumbling doen the ravine. A Taliban rocket-propelled grenade had ripped off his pants and riddled him with shrapnel. "I could see hunks of metal and rocks sticking out of my legs," he recalled. He activated his emergency call beacon, which the pilots in the HH-60 Pave Hawk helicopters overhead could hear him but could not find him anywhere. Their fuel was dwindling and they had to turn back. Luttrell never felt so alone. His legs, numb and naked, reminded him of another loss. He had kept a magazine photograph of a World Trade Center victim in his pants pocket, but it too was lost. Luttrell didn't know the man but carried the picture on missions. Help came thundering over the ridgeline in a Chinook carrying 16 rescuers. But at 4:05 p.m., as the helicopter approached, the Taliban fighters fired an RPG. No one survived. It was deathly quiet. He crawled away, dragging his legs, leaving a bloody trail. He wondered if he would die, either from the bullet in his thigh or of thirst. Crawling through the night he made it to a pool of water. When he lifted his head he saw an Afghan. As he reached for his rifle the villager called out “American!” and flashed him a two thumbs up. "You Taliban?" Luttrell asked. “No Taliban!” he responded. A man by the name of Mohhamud Gulab took him in and fed him. Hours after his arrival, Taliban fighters appeared and demanded that the villagers surrender the American. "I was waiting for a good deal to come along and for Gulab to turn me over." What Luttrell did not understand, he said, was that the people of Sabray were following their own rules of engagement -- tribal law. Once they had carried the invalid Seal into their huts, they were committed to defend him. The Taliban fighters seemed to respect that custom, even as they lurked in the hills nearby. These kind villagers helped get the word to a Marine outpost 5 miles away that they had Luttrell. Their kindness will ever be remembered by Luttrell, as he was taken safely home.