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

been with our sniper team when they engaged the Iraqi soldier. I hadn’t
been controlling the rogue element of Iraqis that entered the compound.
But that didn’t matter. As the SEAL task unit commander, the senior
leader on the ground in charge of the mission, I was responsible for
everything in Task Unit Bruiser. I had to take complete ownership of
what went wrong. That is what a leader does—even if it means getting
fired. If anyone was to be blamed and fired for what happened, let it be
me.
A few minutes later, I walked into the platoon space where everyone
was gathered to debrief. The silence was deafening. The CO sat in the
front row. The CMC stood ominously in the back. The SEAL that had
been wounded—fragged in the face by a .50-caliber round—was there,
his face bandaged up.
I stood before the group. “Whose fault was this?” I asked to the
roomful of teammates.
After a few moments of silence, the SEAL who had mistakenly
engaged the Iraqi solider spoke up: “It was my fault. I should have
positively identified my target.”
“No,” I responded, “It wasn’t your fault. Whose fault was it?” I asked
the group again.
“It was my fault,” said the radioman from the sniper element. “I
should have passed our position sooner.”
“Wrong,” I responded. “It wasn’t your fault. Whose fault was it?” I
asked again.
“It was my fault,” said another SEAL, who was a combat advisor
with the Iraqi Army clearance team. “I should have controlled the Iraqis
and made sure they stayed in their sector.”
“Negative,” I said. “You are not to blame.” More of my SEALs were