Extreme Ownership: How U.S. Navy SEALs Lead and Win

Within Task Unit Bruiser—my own SEAL troop—similar mistakes
had been made. The specific location of the sniper team in question had
not been passed on to other units. Positive identification of the assumed
enemy combatant, who turned out to be an Iraqi soldier, had been
insufficient. A thorough SITREP (situation report) had not been passed
to me after the initial engagement took place.
The list of mistakes was substantial. As directed, I put together a
brief, a Microsoft PowerPoint presentation with timelines and depictions
of the movements of friendly units on a map of the area. Then I
assembled the list of everything that everyone had done wrong.
It was a thorough explanation of what had happened. It outlined the
critical failures that had turned the mission into a nightmare and cost the
life of one Iraqi soldier, wounded several more, and, but for a true
miracle, could have cost several of our SEALs their lives.
But something was missing. There was some problem, some piece
that I hadn’t identified, and it made me feel like the truth wasn’t coming
out. Who was to blame?
I reviewed my brief again and again trying to figure out the missing
piece, the single point of failure that had led to the incident. But there
were so many factors, and I couldn’t figure it out.
Finally, the CO, the CMC, and the investigating officer arrived at our
base. They were going to drop their gear, grab some food at the chow
hall, and then we would bring everyone together to debrief the event.
I looked through my notes again, trying to place the blame.
Then it hit me.
Despite all the failures of individuals, units, and leaders, and despite
the myriad mistakes that had been made, there was only one person to
blame for everything that had gone wrong on the operation: me. I hadn’t