Hurting Is Better Than Dying (NQM 019)
On September 8th 2009, in the dusty Afghan village of Ganjgal in Kunar Province, US Marine Corps Coporal Dakota Meyer lost his entire squad during an ambush. While holding rear security about a mile away from the village, more than 30 American and Afghan soldiers made their way into the village to meet with the local elders. No soon after, the entire village opened up in gunfire from three sides, pinning down all those inside. Defying direct orders, he made his way into the village five times under intense enemy fire to provide covering fire and escort for 36 of his brothers.
Tragically on his last trip in, he found his four squad-mates, Lt Michael Johnson, Gunnery Sergeant Edwin Johnson, Staff Sergeant Aaron Kenefick, and Hospitalman Third Class James Layton deceased. In addition, Sergeant First Class Kenneth Westbrook passed away from his wounds after the battle.
In 2011, he was awarded the Medal of Honor for his actions, documented in great detail in his 2012 novel “Into The Fire”. Although his story of gallantry is inspiring, his story or recovery is equally astounding. He sees the Medal of Honor as a reminder of his biggest failure, to bring his squad home alive. Then President Barack Obama phrased it eloquently when he told Dakota the following:
“Dakota, I know that you've grappled with the grief of that day; that you've said your efforts were somehow a "failure" because your teammates didn't come home. But as your Commander-in-Chief, and on behalf of everyone here today and all Americans, I want you to know it's quite the opposite. You did your duty, above and beyond, and you kept the faith with the highest traditions of the Marine Corps that you love.
Because of your Honor, 36 men are alive today. Because of your Courage, four fallen American heroes came home, and — in the words of James Layton's mom — they could lay their sons to rest with dignity. Because of your Commitment — in the thick of the fight, hour after hour — a former Marine who read about your story said that you showed how "in the most desperate, final hours…our brothers and God will not forsake us." And because of your humble example, our kids — especially back in Columbia, Kentucky, in small towns all across America — they'll know that no matter who you are or where you come from, you can do great things as a citizen and as a member of the American family.” - President Barack Obama
Medal of Honor Citation for Corporal Dakota L. Meyer, United States Marine Corps
For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty while serving with Marine Embedded Training Team 2-8, Regional Corps Advisory Command 3-7, in Kunar Province, Afghanistan, on 8 September 2009. Corporal Meyer maintained security at a patrol rally point while other members of his team moved on foot with two platoons of Afghan National Army and Border Police into the village of Ganjgal for a pre-dawn meeting with village elders. Moving into the village, the patrol was ambushed by more than 50 enemy fighters firing rocket propelled grenades, mortars, and machine guns from houses and fortified positions on the slopes above. Hearing over the radio that four U.S. team members were cut off, Corporal Meyer seized the initiative. With a fellow Marine driving, Corporal Meyer took the exposed gunner's position in a gun-truck as they drove down the steeply terraced terrain in a daring attempt to disrupt the enemy attack and locate the trapped U.S. team. Disregarding intense enemy fire now concentrated on their lone vehicle, Corporal Meyer killed a number of enemy fighters with the mounted machine guns and his rifle, some at near point blank range, as he and his driver made three solo trips into the ambush area. During the first two trips, he and his driver evacuated two dozen Afghan soldiers, many of whom were wounded. When one machine gun became inoperable, he directed a return to the rally point to switch to another gun-truck for a third trip into the ambush area where his accurate fire directly supported the remaining U.S. personnel and Afghan soldiers fighting their way out of the ambush. Despite a shrapnel wound to his arm, Corporal Meyer made two more trips into the ambush area in a third gun-truck accompanied by four other Afghan vehicles to recover more wounded Afghan soldiers and search for the missing U.S. team members. Still under heavy enemy fire, he dismounted the vehicle on the fifth trip and moved on foot to locate and recover the bodies of his team members. Meyer's daring initiative and bold fighting spirit throughout the 6-hour battle significantly disrupted the enemy's attack and inspired the members of the combined force to fight on. His unwavering courage and steadfast devotion to his U.S. and Afghan comrades in the face of almost certain death reflected great credit upon himself and upheld the highest traditions of the Marine Corps and the United States Naval Service.
Dakota came on Jocko’s podcast, opening up about his recovery and his new mission in life. It is an incredibly insightful and heavy episode, highly recommended to put things in perspective. It will motivate you to become a better version of yourself, and leave the world a better place than you found it. Please check out his movement called Own The Dash, dedicated to building a community focused on self-discovery, improvement, and fulfillment.
Jocko Podcast #115: Into the Fire, and Beyond the Call of Duty, with Medal of Honor Recipient, Dakota Meyer
On the worst day of his life: I may not have physically died that day, but I died. Right there next to them. It is one thing to lose one person, but everybody? That is the worst case scenario. You don’t even have anyone from your own team to share the burden with. The equivalent to making people understand my situation would be like, you are inside a house with your family and the house catching on fire. You end up getting out thinking they are all out, but they are not. You cant get back inside the house to safe them, and they all burn to dead. That is kind of the equivalent of it. And I just have to deal with it. I deal with it the best I can everyday, I learn from it, I try and turn it into something good.
On failing at his responsibilities: You are over there long enough and under such constant battle stress, that it resets all your setting way into the red, and they are very hard to set back. The main thing knowing was that I didn’t get my friends home, as I had promised. I spent a good part of my 21 years critical of others who failed at their responsibilities and now it was all coming back on me in a big dump truck.
On turning negatives into positives: Refusing to get out of bed or going to work or smiling at others are all decisions. Find the reason for those decisions and turn negative feelings into positive actions. It is not enough to identify that you are feeling bad but having the character to do something positive to take up that space. Wallowing in your misery is just childish self-absorption.
Being honest with yourself, no matter how much it hurts: I went in that day to get my team-mates out, I failed. You cant jump around it, you cant ignore the facts, I failed miserably. If I tell myself I didn’t fail, I would be lying to myself. I was tested and I failed, and now if have to figure out what do with that. That is where I get so upset with the counselors. As soon as they say I didn’t fail I’m done. I am not going to lie at myself. I failed and now I need to deal with it.
On hitting rock bottom: When it counted most, I wasn’t with them. “We aren’t worried, we know you will get us out of any trouble Meyer” the Lieutenant said before they set out. Well I didn’t Lieutenant, I was a load of worthless shit, not there when you needed me. At about 3 o’clock in the morning, I pulled into the parking lot of a shop owned by an old friend and cut the engine. I turned on the cab light and fished out my cell phone. It wasn’t right to burn my dad but I wanted to connect one last time with someone. “I can’t do it anymore, I typed.” I reached into the glove compartment where I kept my Glock. I always kept a full mag with a round chambered in the pistol. A Glock doesn’t have a safety, you pull the trigger and the weapon fires. I stuck the gun to my head and squeezed the trigger. ‘Click’. Nothing. Nada. No round in the chamber. As you can imaging I sat there quiet sobered up, and in double shock. Suicide is terminal self-revulsion. I was mixed up, but I knew my team would be disappointed in me. That was not going to happen. Who had unloaded my pistol? Right on the spot I knew who had done it. Have I ever talked to him about it? No. I put the pistol away and drove home. That night I knew quitting wasn’t right. Not that night, not ever.
On holding the line: I hear from veterans that are walking this line. And if you are walking that line, hold it. Listen, its not worth it, I had to change the way I looked at life. The only problem was me. Instead of facing that reality I was blaming everyone else for my problems. The things I had seen were so bad. I have seen what freedom costs first hand, so if anything I have more reason than anyone else on this planet to make the most of my life, because I have seen what freedom costs. By feeling sorry for myself I was wasting the sacrifice that my team made on my behalf.
