Profile in Courage: Paul Yost, Jr

When Paul A. Yost Jr. assumed the position of Commandant of the United States Coast Guard in 1986, he approached the role with a powerful philosophy: "You have to lead the charge."

At the time this was considered as an over-aggressive approach to leading what was viewed as more of a law enforcement agency than a military organization, but Admiral Yost had learned that lesson the hard way - in the jungles of Vietnam.

Ever since they discovered a fishing vessel smuggling weapons into Vung Ro Bay in 1965, Coast Guard and Navy personnel had been conducting a joint operation known as 'Market Time.' The goal was to apprehend, attack, or interrupt any smuggling in

South Vietnam, to stop the flow of supplies to the Viet Cong. In 1968 the Coast Guard Combat Commander attached to ‘Market Time' billet opened up to volunteers.

Because no one came forward for the position, the command reached out to Commander Paul A. Yost Jr., then on board the cutter Resolute. However, Yost refused the offer, explaining that he had a family back home and couldn't risk his life in combat halfway around the world.

The next day he received dispatch orders to Vietnam - he had just become the Coast Guard's first involuntary deployment of the Vietnam war.

After two months of language and survival training, Yost arrived in Vietnam and took on his first combat command. Before this experience, he had been a lifesaver, leading men in the never-ending fight against death at sea. But service in Vietnam was an entirely different beast, once there, he noted, "I truly have trained killers working for me."

As the senior Coast Guardsman in the region, he was in command of 9 swift-boats, explosive ordnance teams, and whenever they were available, a few companies of local ground troops. As this was his first combat command Yost had to quickly come up with a method for planning. He decided on a straightforward aggressive approach: 5 patrols a day, six days a week. To ensure that his planning never got sloppy, he would lead half of them.

His willingness to lead missions himself is what made the true difference during one patrol into the Ca Mau peninsula, the southern-most tip of Vietnam. He went in with his nine swift boats, and two companies of South Vietnamese Marines, with two USMC advisers.

His superior, Captain Roy Hoffman was commanding the operation from a repurposed landing craft and held two Sea Wolf attack helicopters in reserve.

Yost knew that he would be most effective with his men in the fray, so he went out on the 3rd of the nine boats. The plan seemed simple enough: land the Marines and their advisers and help them sweep the shores for Vietcong. They arrived at the debarkation point, but the advisers asked him to move upriver a mile or so, the shores seemed quiet, and it would save the men a lot of time and fatigue walking through a hot, dense forest.

Yost requested the helicopters come up to support him and received an affirmative from the command boat. With air power overhead and seemingly calm forests, he began moving forward.

But nothing that day was as it seemed. The boats rushed forward, hoping to get the troops on shore as quickly as possible. But before they got even half the way to their new destination all hell broke loose. Machine gun and rocket fire exploded out of the river banks, and the boats were suddenly caught in the middle of a horrific ambush.

Yost yelled into his radio for the helicopters to "open up" on the banks, only Now Yost was stuck in the middle of enemy territory, taking fire from both sides, and his only option was to power through.

He knew the best defense here was speed, and the boats pushed through the ambush at full throttle. When things finally calmed down and they felt safe again they took stock of their situation. They had lost about 10 percent of the men on deck, including the machine gunner on Yost's boat, who was hit in the 4-inch gap between his flak jacket and flak pants.

They beached the boats and told the South Vietnamese troops to dismount and sweep south to hit the Vietnamese. But the marines refused, saying they were outnumbered, and it was safer to dig in and prepare for a night of defense.to hear that they were just now being scrambled. Captain Hoffman had denied his request for air support, but the message was never passed back down.

Yost was then informed that they were a boat short: one had been left in the combat zone. He knew he couldn't leave anyone behind and realized he couldn't in good conscience order his men to go back into that hell. His only remaining option was to lead his men back there. After readying his boat, he yelled at one of the other skippers, a Lieutenant Junior Grade in the Navy Reserve, to follow him.

They sped back towards the ambush area and found the stranded boat beached, the remaining crew using the boat itself as cover from a torrent of machine gunfire. The two rescue boats suppressed the Vietcong machine gunners just long enough to pull alongside the beached boat.

Yost called to the men to get on board his boat, but they refused, saying they couldn't leave their dead skipper. Yost grabbed the officer's body, and pulled it on his own boat, followed by the surviving crew. The two rescue boats sped back to their main force,

but there was little fighting for the rest of the operation, the Viet Cong disappeared back into the forest, and the stranded swift boat was looted.

Militarily the operation was a bust, they weren't even able to gather intelligence on the enemy in the area. But even the most fruitless missions can teach us a valuable lesson.

Commander Yost earned a Silver Star for his bravery, skill, and sacrifice but what he took away from the operation was even more valuable: he now knew what true leadership was.

Paul A. Yost Jr. went on to be the 18th Commandant of the United States Coast Guard. His tenure as commandant was marked with the same ferocity and leadership which he displayed in the jungles of Vietnam.

He expanded the military readiness of the organization and used his combat experience to create the Drug Interdiction and Assistance Team, which took the Coast Guard face to face with south American narcotics traffickers by using riverine operations similar to those he conducted in Vietnam.

Battlefield Chronicles: Fire on OP3

"When you hear them trumpets, it ain't Harry James!" came the shout of the troops at Pusan Harbor as we prepared to disembark there for assignment to our respective battle units. These American troops, of course, were referring to the

way the Chinese and North Koreans blew trumpets and bugles when they attacked. It was early March of 1952, and these jeering soldiers were waiting for us to disembark from the Japanese luxury boat that had brought us from Sasebo, Japan, to Pusan, so they could get aboard and start their trip back to Japan and then to the States. They had served their days of warfare: we were just starting ours. How I envied them.

We had finished "Flash" training at Ft. Sill, Okla., in late 1951 and left there for a short leave at home before heading to Korea. We were detained in Japan for a few weeks while we attended Medical Aidman's school at Shinyodayama, then continued to Korea with an additional Military Occupational Specialty added to our records.

I was assigned to Battery B, First Field Observation Battalion, 10th Corps in Korea which was located on the east coast. We were approximately 20 miles above the 38th parallel - just northeast of the Punch Bowl - and had one of our OPs only about 70 yards away from the enemy position known as Luke's Castle or the Rock.

Our job was to use angulation methods taught us at Ft. Sill to locate enemy gun positions by their flash or smoke. When at least three of the four OPs located the gun and turned in azimuths to be plotted, the closest of us to the target-directed the 105 or 155 Howitzer fire of ours at it. Sometimes we were fortunate enough to get fire from the more accurate 8" guns to direct onto the enemy.

One night a recruit who had just arrived from the States was with us at OP3, where I happened to be OP chief that night. When it came time for him to pull guard duty in our small bunker, the other three of us climbed into our winter sleeping bags to get a few winks of shuteye and try to keep warm. Shortly after we had dozed off, we heard one loud explosion outside of our bunker, and then another. We all woke to realize that we were getting very close, incoming rounds. I looked at our stove and noticed that the pipe was red hot - seems our new arrival had piled way too much wood into our little bunker stove. Smoke was coming from the roof of our bunker and outside we found the canvas shelter halves that we had used to keep water out were all on fire.

The blaze was making quite a target of us in the middle of the night and the enemy was making the best of the opportunity. We got the fire out, but not before receiving several 57mm rounds that were thrown at us as well as two or three mortars. Fortunately, no one was killed or injured.

We didn't hear the trumpets that night but before my nine months stay in Korea was over, we did hear trumpets and they did not sound like Harry James. While I was in 10th Corps we were in somewhat of a standstill war with neither side attempting to take more of the other's territory permanently but, with probes and artillery attacks occurring regularly, people were being killed and wounded.

I can well remember the helicopters landing on a pad downhill from our bunker on the backside and evacuating wounded and dead quite often. I lost two good friends on the OPs of 10th Corps and several more were wounded. We also spent a couple of weeks in central Korea when the Iron Triangle portion of the war was going on in the fall of 1952. Trying to get OPs established on Sniper Ridge there was an extremely difficult task. I was lucky to return from Korea after my nine months were up with no injuries. When I think of the many lives that were lost, I am certainly reminded that "Freedom in not free."

Military Myths & Legends: William Avery

Air Marshal William Avery "Billy" Bishop was a Canadian fighter pilot in WWI who crashed his plane during a practice run and was ordered to go back to flight school. He didn't. Instead, he went on to shoot down 72 enemy aircraft, making him a legend in his own time and earning him a Victoria Cross.

Bishop's military career didn't start off well. He joined the Royal Military College of Canada in 1911, was caught cheating, and had to start his first year all over again. In 1914, he joined the Mississauga Horse cavalry regiment, but couldn't join them overseas because he caught pneumonia.

Once he recovered, they transferred him to the 7th Canadian Mounted Rifles where he proved to be a born sniper, able to take out targets others could barely see. He finally boarded a ship for England on June 6, 1915 as part of a convoy that was attacked by German U-boats. Three hundred Canadians died in that attack, but Bishop's vessel was untouched.

The surviving 7th went on to Shorncliffe in Kent where they faced unending rain mixed with horse dung. Bishop's dreams of glory turned to depression and despair as he realized that he'd only get more of the same on the mainland.

Things changed in July 1915. It was another wet day when he went out to take care of the horses. Bishop had just gotten stuck in the knee-deep mud when he heard the faint sound of an engine. Looking up, he saw a plane fly toward his camp, skim a little way off, then take off again.

Bishop had no idea how long he stood there looking after it, but when he came to, he had made up his mind. If he was going to die, it was going to be up in the air, not stuck in a muck-filled trench.

It took a while. Bishop got to fly reconnaissance missions in France, but in April 1916 his plane crashed on take-off because of engine failure, badly injuring his knee.

By September, he was back in training and in March of the following year, he was part of 60 Squadron at Filescamp Farm near Arras, France.

Bishop's first patrol on March 22 didn't go too well, either. First, he had difficulty controlling his Nieuport 17 fighter. Then he was nearly shot down by an enemy plane. Finally, he got separated from his squadron. And it only got worse.

On March 24, General John Higgins visited the camp to see how the men were getting on. Bishop joined a practice flight and was the only one who crash landed. He wasn't hurt, but he was ordered back to flight school in Britain.

Still, there was a war going on, so he was asked to stay till a replacement could arrive. The very next day, Bishop entered history.

On March 25, 1917, Bishop's first dogfight took place near Saint-Leger. Perhaps in an attempt to prolong his life, he was ordered to fly "Tail End Charley," the last plane in a squadron of four.

Three Albatross D III Scouts pounced on them. One got behind the squadron commander tailing him, so Bishop dove and tailed the Albatross, hitting the plane's fuselage. It swerved away; Bishop followed, so the German faked a nose dive only to find the pesky Canadian still on his tail. The enemy started to bank out of the dive, but it was too late - Bishop fired at near point-blank range, scoring his first kill.

Then his usual luck struck when his engine gave out, forcing him to land some 300 yards into the German-occupied territory. Fortunately, he made it back to the Allied trenches where he spent the night in a rainstorm.

Impressed, Higgins rescinded his order and named Bishop, a flight commander on March 30. The following day, Bishop made his second kill. By April 8, he made his fifth kill, becoming an Ace and earning the right to paint the nose of his plane blue. From that point on, he flew at the front of his squadron.

Before the end of April, he had taken down 12 planes, earning a Military Cross for his role at the Battle of Vimy Ridge.

On April 30, Bishop survived a skirmish with a Jasta 11 flown by Manfred von Richthofen, the famous "Red Baron" with 80 official kills. In May, he was attacked by four planes, shot down two, and earned the Distinguished Service Order. By the end of May, he had downed 21 planes.

Bishop eared his Victoria Cross on June 2, 1917. The Allies wanted to take out the Estourmel Aerodrome deep in enemy territory. He flew solo before dawn, but as the sun rose, saw no planes at the site. It was deserted. He circled, saw nothing, and chalking it up to bad intel, started to make his way back.

That's when he saw the buildings of another aerodrome off to the side. Banking toward it, he realized he had come upon the base of the Jagdstaffel 5, headed by Lieutenant Werner Voss, the only near equal of the Red Baron (with 48 kills by September 1917). There were seven planes - a two-seater Rumpler reconnaissance and six Albatross scouts.

Bishop dived, firing a 97-round drum of 0.303 bullets into the lot, killing one mechanic. He shot up, expecting aerial combat, only to be fired at by several machine guns on the ground. An Albatross rose up, but the engine hadn't fully warmed up enough to gain altitude before Bishop dove, tailed him, then fired.

Another plane took to the air. The Canadian fired and missed, but the enemy swerved, hit a tree and crashed. Neither pilots were killed or seriously hurt.

Then two Albatrosses rose in tandem, but one stayed away while the other took chase. Bishop turned, the other followed, but Nieuports were capable of tighter turns than Albatrosses. Bishop got a clear shot, dropping the German before turning on the other one. He fired and missed, but the other pilot had had enough. The German flew away and landed, wanting nothing more to do with the Canadian. That's when Bishop's gun jammed, so he flew back to base.

Four enemy scout planes were about 1,250 feet above him for about a mile of his return journey, but they would not attack. His machine was very badly shot about by machine gun fire from the ground.

What makes his award contentious is that there were no other corroborating witnesses to what happened - a requisite for the VC. Although Bishop officially downed 72 planes, many believe it could be less.

Nazis Shoot Female Russian Soldiers on Sight

Stories about military history often focus on battlefield tactics and strategy. When they do focus on people, it is usually on a male soldier. However, during WWII, the Germans often executed female soldiers on sight.

This is doubly amazing because it suggests women were a significant part of the fighting forces and that they provoked a visceral reaction from the Germans who captured them.

Ancient battlefields were often just outside their city walls, and rulers formed armies composed of people who were normally peace-time farmers.

With limited manpower, the bulk of the conscripts were needed for fighting. The remaining camp followers transported supplies, prepared the food, and performed other non-combat functions in order to maximize the lack of weapons and armor for camp followers allowed them to carry more supplies than the soldiers, thus extending the operating range. It also sped up the march to their destination.

Based on rough estimates from other ancient armies, it has been concluded that non-combatants constituted roughly 33% to 50% of the army. It is assumed that these additional women and children allowed the maximum number of soldiers to perform military tasks, such as scouting or building and manning city walls.

But when the army was defeated or attacked in their camps or cities, the women often became easy victims or active participants in battle.

In crusader cities under siege, women were recorded as manning the wall with a pot as a helmet. Some scholars suggest the strange headgear highlighted the otherness of women fighting in a traditionally male domain.

The women normally filled the role of a water carrier and additionally boosted morale. Ancient Greek women and slaves would hurl stones and boiling water to kill invading soldiers. Again, note the nontraditional weapons.

The women present in crusading camps often faced the enemy when the army was defeated and fled. One account includes a camp follower killing a soldier with a knife. A Muslim victim being killed by a woman was used by writers to make the enemy seem less manly, with the knife implying a cooking instrument rather than a weapon.

The rise of total warfare often blurred the lines even further. Sherman's march to the sea attacked the population that supported secession as well as the army fighting for it.

Airpower theorists like Billy Mitchell and Giulio Douhet promised that these strikes at the population would undermine morale and become such a horror that they could easily win the wars. Their theories didn't pan out as nations developed defenses against air attacks.

This environment of partisan warfare behind the lines, massive armored warfare, and desperate loss on the front lines resulted in the women of the Soviet Union volunteering in huge numbers. The Soviet government itself treated women differently by promoting the image of the "martyr heroine" in Russian propaganda.

The Germans also had propagandist views of women that were almost the inverse of the Soviet "martyr heroine." The Russians

viewed women as heroically defending the motherland. In contrast, the Germans had rather simplistic views of women with a virgin/whore dichotomy.

Language itself was further used to delegitimize them. They were called Flintenweiber, or "rifle broad" instead of Soldatinnen, "female soldier."

The women deemed Flintenweiber ended up on the wrong side of the virgin/whore dichotomy by taking up the activity of soldiering, wearing a uniform, and fighting in the field. Their very existence was a violation of a traditionally male purview.

The ideology and delegitimizing language combined with imminent practical concerns such as sabotage forced their execution on sight. In fact, the leader of the 4th Panzer division included both in the same breath: "Insidious and cruel partisans as well as degenerate Flintenweiber don't belong in a POW camp but hung from the nearest tree."

Much like the Muslim and Christian historians who viewed fighting women as an example of their opponent's degenerate state, the Nazis portrayed women fighters as a direct result of the evils and degeneracy of Bolshevism.

Interestingly, there were some cases where they were kept alive. Wendy Jo Gertejanssen showed that at least 15,000 Soviet women, among them at least 1,000 Soviet Red Army members, were forced to serve as prostitutes in the German's field brothels for the army.

A major exception to this was women who claimed upon capture that they were nurses. They often did this regardless of their actual training. Nurses formed an exception to the Flintweiber stereotype and came closer to the caring virgin women from myth.

This might have saved them from death but did not save them from being sent to concentration camps and assisting Nazi doctors in their unholy experiments. After Jewish women and Poles, Soviet women constituted the highest number of prisoners in concentration camps.

About 18,000 women ended up in Ravensbruck, and the number of women killed is estimated at tens to hundreds of thousands.

The end result of this was to increase the intensity of warfare. Women knew they would be raped and killed upon capture and so they fought to the death.

This made standard German operations more difficult, and it increased the viciousness of the counter-insurgency operations in rear areas.

Michael Caine - Korean War Veteran

Michael Caine is one of the most well-known and highly-regarded British actors of the 20th and 21st centuries. He is famous for roles in movies like Zulu, Get Carter, The Eagle Has Landed, The Italian Job, Austin Powers in Goldmember, Christopher Nolan's Batman films, and a host of others spanning an acting career of 70 years.

While he has become a household name across the globe, a fact that many people don't know about Michael Caine is that he served in the British Army and saw combat in the Korean War. It was a harrowing experience for the actor and one that would scar him for many years.

Caine's birth name was Maurice Joseph Micklewhite, and he was born in 1933 in South London to a working-class family. Caine's father fought in the Second World War. His family, including the young Maurice (Michael), was evacuated from London due to the risk of bombing by the Luftwaffe.

After gaining his School Certificate at the age of sixteen, he worked for a time as a messenger and filing clerk for a film company in order to a get a foot into the door of the industry.

He was called up for national service from 1952 to 1954. He served with the British Army's Royal Fusiliers, an infantry regiment.

At first, he was posted to serve with the British Army of the Rhine (BAOR), the British occupation force that had been stationed in Germany after the end of the Second World War. However, after serving there for a few months, he opted to transfer to Korea where a war was raging.

Going into combat would turn out to be an experience that would change Caine forever.

Caine landed at Kure, in southern Japan, and underwent two weeks of combat training. After this, he was sent to the South Korean front, near Pusan.

The front was unlike anything Caine had ever experienced. There were hordes of rats and vast swarms of mosquitoes as well as the ever-present stink of human excrement used to fertilize the fields. And, of course, there was the presence of thousands of North Korean and Chinese soldiers hell-bent on killing Caine and every other opposing soldier there.

He spent his first few nights in a trench on a hill around a mile from the Chinese lines. On his very first night, he witnessed a Chinese attack on a position to his left. He watched with both awe and horror as the Chinese troops – who were clearly unafraid of death and fanatical in their cause – charged headlong into machine gunfire.

He would end up being on the receiving end of more than one of these charges while manning an American .30 caliber machine gun. Some nights he would go out on patrol, and these were the most terrifying experiences he underwent in Korea.

Sometimes, the enemy bombardment of the trenches would continue for up to 24 hours without pause. Caine would simply lie in his camp bed in the bunker, listening to the shells whining and exploding, and wonder how he was going to get out alive.

On one occasion, he came alarmingly close to being killed. Caine and two other men were out on patrol, creeping through the elephant grass at night. They suddenly heard the tell-tale clicking of rifle bolts snapping shut all around them, accompanied by hushed voices speaking excitedly in Chinese.

They were surrounded and heavily outnumbered, and all three men were convinced they were about to die.

In that moment, however, Caine recalls that he felt no fear. He “decided that whoever was going to take [their] lives were going to pay dearly.” So the three of them charged, roaring maniacally, at the voices.

The Chinese opened up but were firing at the place where Caine and his companions had been a few seconds earlier, not where they were running to. The British mortars spotted the Chinese muzzle-flares in the darkness and opened up, scattering the enemy. Caine and his friends managed to get back to British lines and lived to fight another day.

Caine stated that as the child of a working family who had grown up poor, he had been sympathetic to communism prior to his experience in Korea.

But after he had fought the fanatical proponents of communism and saw firsthand how it dehumanized people, he changed his mind about it and came to greatly oppose the idea.

All in all, he was in Korea for a year. He spent six weeks at a time in the trenches followed by two weeks in Seoul for R&R, during which time many of his fellow soldiers were infected with gonorrhea. Caine, due to his refusal to see prostitutes, never contracted the disease.

He left Korea a profoundly changed man, grateful at having survived the war. He had been forced to grow up very quickly, and he'd learned a lot about himself and the world. He used his military experience in a number of roles in which he played military men and, despite his humble background, ended up becoming an icon of British and international film.

Caine, currently 86 years old, is still acting and has no plans to retire.

Walking Point in the Arizona Territory

Many Vietnam veterans struggled upon returning to the United States. They wrestled with the psychic trauma of the war and felt isolated and out of place, rejected by their country.

As point man, the greater danger wasn't from an ambush or getting shot from a sniper, it was from the booby traps. Our point element would often take casualties from them.

In the Arizona Territory, our point team existed of 3 or 4 men: point man left and right flank and often a radio operator directly behind the point man. We were about 15 to 25 yards apart from each other as we moved through rice patties with distant tree lines and through dry land, fields, and even small villages.

I picked up the radio shortly after arriving in Vietnam and became a squad radioman and then later a platoon radio operator. I often volunteered to walk point and did so from mid-February through April 1969. No one died while I was walking point. We did, however, take casualties. I looked for everything, anything out of place, listened for the birds or the lack of sound; I always knew what I was doing, within sight of my point team and knew where I was going. Sometimes, I would stop to check the compass and/or review the map I carried.

As we slowly approached the terrain in front of us, I would examine the area for trip lines, NVA bunkers, broken branches, blood trails, a matted down path, bunkers, obvious openings in tree lines where a booby trap could be planted. Tripwires, spider holes, a gum wrapper, a tin can, a pile of leaves or a pile of brush, a change in the color of the ground foliage where it turned a bit yellow, wilted leaves or dead branches. These could indicate a booby trap.

As a radio operator, I knew how to key the handset for relaying messages to the other radio operators. We would run in silence mode. One press on the handset meant stop or hold up. Two squelches of the handset meant all clear move ahead, three clicks of the handset meant enemy or non-friendlies observed nearby. We also used hand motions between the four of us walking point. Each team member would be in constant hand signal communication to the radio operator walking point.

I can remember one afternoon in late March while in the Arizona Territory, all hell broke loose, we got hit and were pinned down and couldn't move. A machine gun position opened up on us. My right flank machine gunner went down. He was hit with four bullets in the left leg. We had to call in air support and mortar power to chase away the enemy.

I did whatever it took to keep me and my team alive. Nerves, sense of touch, sense of smell at night, being smart and extremely alert, a keen sight, including a 6th sense to know we were close to danger all contributed to the safety of my point squad. We had a lot of respect and trust for one another during our walks at point.

On a separate occasion, I lost a point man to a booby trap. He lost his left foot just below the knee and was medivaced in a timely manner. The rest of us lost our hearing for a few days and all four of us were hit with some hot shrapnel. I was glad for my helmet and flak jacket.

I saw many men die and many more wounded while in the Arizona Territory while being a combat Marine in Hotel Company.

Book Review: Fearless

When Navy SEAL Adam Brown woke up on March 17, 2010, he didn't know he would die that night in the Hindu Kush Mountains of Afghanistan - but he was ready. In a letter to his children, not meant to be seen unless the worst happened, he wrote, "I'm not afraid of anything that might happen to me on this earth, because I know no matter what, nothing can take my spirit from me."

Fearless is the story of a man of extremes, whose courage and determination were fueled by faith, family, and the love of a woman. It's about a man who waged a war against his own worst impulses, including drug addiction and persevered to reach the top tier of the U.S. military. In a deeply personal and absorbing chronicle, Fearless reveals a glimpse inside the SEAL Team SIX brotherhood and presents an indelible portrait of a highly trained warrior whose final act of bravery led to the ultimate sacrifice.

Adam Brown was a devoted man who was an unlikely hero but a true warrior, described by all who knew him as, fearless.

Reader Reviews
'Fearless' is the story of a Navy SEAL who would rather die than let down his fellow teammates. This story explores the physical, mental and spiritual capacities of these incredible citizens of the USA.

Ignoring severe injuries, SEAL Adam Brown was able to put others first, whether those be his fellow SEALs, the Afghan children around the military base or some other total stranger. The multiple accounts of his bravery and courage are sure to inspire anyone who faces any sort of a trial or tribulation.

Although Adam Brown died fighting for his beliefs, his spirit and essence live on through his legacy of courage and generosity. You know going into the book that he dies but reading about how he lived provides the real context of why this story is important.
~J. Lietz

Here is a man who battled his own demons for years yet managed to train himself to become a Navy SEAL which only around .01 percent of males could do. And yet he did it despite overcoming all manner of serious injuries: broken arms, legs, fingers, even losing an eye (an eye!) in a training accident and yet he managed to become a sniper despite these severe handicaps. And as anyone who has read either Chris Kyle or Brandon Webb, there is no more challenging calling in our armed forces that becoming a Navy SEAL sniper requiring not only unreal physical and mental stamina but also tremendous intellectual capacity as well. He was also a devoted father to his children and a great husband to his wife, who is also one of the heroines of our time

He died doing what he most loved: Saving his brother soldiers-and America is the luckier for having troopers such as Aaron Brown in their midst. Get this book and read it!
~The Rat Man

Adam's story of triumph and patriotism is unmatched. I am so thankful that we have men and women that answer the call to protect our country. And few are as special as Adam Brown.

Considering Adam's family, especially his wife and children, I want to say that they serve as well. I have spent a lot of time away from my wife and kids as a result of my service. Although, I'm never in harm's way like a SEAL. But it's easy to forget those who are left at home. This book helped show the importance of the family that a service member leaves at home. That was, surprisingly, one of my favorite things about this book - that it highlights the struggles of a mother and her children while daddy is away fighting for their freedom. It's beautiful and tragic at the same time.
~Bradley Adamson

Excellent book! The story of Fearless is a study of the incredible drive, strength, fortitude and fearlessness of Adam Brown. In writing this review I will try not to give away any details of the book. Fearless traces the life of Adam Brown from childhood to the brotherhood of the US Navy Seals. And not just the Navy Seals, Adam strived to be the best of the best, a Seal Team 6 operator. Seal Team 6 operators are the elite of the elite. You take the top 1% of the U.S. Navy and you have the Navy Seals. As you read the book, for Adam Brown to achieve this status with the difficulties he faced was just incredulous. Adam never said the word no. Every time there was a daring feat to try or a dangerous mission to take on, Adam was the first one to volunteer. Author Eric Blehm does a fantastic job in telling the life story of Adam Brown. He vividly describes the life, love, respect, and feelings Adam was afforded and gave. I cannot say enough about this book. Great story, great narrator. THIS BOOK IS A MUST READ!!!
~J. Madden

This is quite possibly my favorite book of all time. Adam's story is absolutely amazing and truly inspiring! It shows the power of perseverance and the human spirit. It starts off on an emotional note and ends the same way. But no matter how sad the story, it's still incredibly moving and powerful. If you enjoy non-fiction about military persons or any stories that highlight the power of the human mind, I don't think you'd go wrong with this book. I've recommended it to every one of my friends and family.
~Colt P. Templin

About the Author
Eric Blehm is the award-winning author of the New York Times bestsellers 'Fearless' and 'Only Thing Worth Dying For.' His first book, 'The Last Season.' was the winner of the National Outdoor Book Award and was named by Outside magazine as one of the "greatest adventure biographies ever written."

He has dedicated his life to telling the stories of those who serve.

In 1999, Blehm became the first journalist to accompany and keep pace with an elite Army Ranger unit on a training mission. His access into the Special Operations community and reportage set an important milestone for American war journalism two years before reporters began to gain widespread embedded status with the U.S. military in the War Against Terror. Blehm's immersion with the Rangers is what led him to the previously untold story of an elite team of eleven Green Berets who operated in the hinterland of Taliban-held Afghanistan just weeks after 9/11 'The Only Thing Worth Dying For' as well as to 'Fearless' the heartrending and inspiring story of Naval Special Warfare Operator (SEAL) Adam Brown, who overcame tremendous odds in his rise to the top tier of the U.S. military: SEAL Team Six. 'Fearless' is currently being adapted for film by a major Hollywood studio.

He lives in Southern California with his wife and children.

A list of his books can be found at http://www.ericblehm.com/books

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