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

minutes to get everyone to a safe distance from what would be a
significant blast. Swiftly, we pushed through the jagged hole in the
concrete and onto the flat, dusty rooftop of the adjacent building. SEAL
shooters fanned out, scanning for threats, weapons trained on the
darkened windows and rooftops of the higher buildings surrounding us.
Tactically, this was a hell of a bad position: a wide-open rooftop with no
cover, surrounded by higher buildings all around, deep in the enemy’s
backyard after having taken heavy fire all day.
“We need a head count; make sure we got everybody,” I said to the
LPO. The LPO had already positioned himself for this and was making it
happen. Suddenly, a SEAL moving along the edge of the rooftop just
steps ahead of me crashed through the roof and fell twenty feet to the
ground, landing hard with a loud smack on the concrete.
Holy shit! I thought, standing just behind him. This was crazy. What
had appeared in the darkness to be the edge of the rooftop was actually
only a plastic tarp covered with dust. In an instant, things had spiraled
into mayhem.
The SEAL lay on the ground groaning in pain. We called down to
him and tried to contact him via his radio.
“Hey, you alright?” I asked him. There was no response. The SEALs
up ahead immediately tried to find a way down to him, but the door to
the only stairway leading down from the rooftop was blocked by a gate
of heavy iron bars, chained and locked.
This was bad. Dreadfully exposed on a wide-open rooftop with no
cover, we were completely surrounded by higher, tactically superior
positions in the heart of an extremely dangerous, enemy-controlled area.
Large numbers of enemy fighters had total freedom of movement here,
had attacked us throughout the day, and knew our location. Even worse,