SEAL Team Six: Memoirs of an Elite Navy SEAL Sniper (39 page)

One day, about nine months later, Blake asked out of the blue, “Would you like to meet him?”

“Meet who?” I asked.

“Your real dad.”

My biological father could have walked past me in the grocery store, and I wouldn’t have known who he was. “Yeah, Blake. You know, I think I would.”

We did a people search and found him. Then I made the phone call. At Christmas, I went to see Ben Wilbanks, my biological father. Ben said that my mother had taken us kids and run off to Georgia with Leon. In my mind, Ben’s story kind of explains the quick move from Florida to Georgia and the quick adoption. I’m inclined to believe him, due to conflicting stories I got from my mother and sisters. Ben said he had spent years looking for me and could never find me. He turned out to be one of the nicest and most loving men I’d ever met. When he hugged me, I knew that I was really being hugged. Seeing Ben Wilbanks seemed to explain where I got my affectionate side—my capability for compassion and emotion. Ben had served in the army as a military policeman and worked most of his career as a truck driver, which is what he still does.

Blake and I continue to maintain a relationship with my biological father, Blake’s grandfather. Whatever happened between my mother and Ben, she still hasn’t forgiven him. Nor forgotten. For my part, I refuse to hold decisions made in their youth against either of them, because I wouldn’t want to be held in contempt for all the decisions made by me in my youth.

When I was getting ready to graduate from clinic, I received a message from Captain Bailey. He’d seen a magazine article about me in his chiropractor’s office and sent an e-mail congratulating me, asking if I remembered him from BUD/S. It was a no-brainer remembering my commanding officer at BUD/S. I could be on my deathbed and still remember him securing us from Hell Week.

I graduated with honors as a doctor of chiropractic on September 24, 2009. I have always been a “show me” person and resisted going to a chiropractor for a long time, but chemicals couldn’t fix my structural problem. The chemicals only hid my pain. A general practitioner can’t do everything for a patient, and a chiropractor can’t do everything. Working as a team, as I learned my whole life, we become more effective. Local doctors refer patients to me, and I refer patients to them. The patients benefit the most.

When I first started seeing patients is when I knew I’d made the right decision. They trust me, I figure out what’s wrong with them, I help them feel better, and they love me for it.

I am now focused on my new career. Construction of my new clinic, Absolute Precision Chiropractic, was completed in April 2010. From the day I opened the doors, I have been blessed with busy days treating members of the local and surrounding communities. One of my patients, a thirteen-year-old boy, had been suffering from chronic headaches for four years. It turned out he experienced a bad car accident when he was little and lost the curve in his neck. He went from nearly twelve headaches a month on frequent medication to one or two headaches in the first ten weeks I saw him. Success stories like this let me know I made the right decision. I truly feel that this is the path God intended for me when he spared my life in Somalia.

Another affirmation for me occurred when I treated a young lady who had brachial palsy. Her arm hadn’t formed correctly, and she had a lot of nerve damage—she was barely able to move her right arm. I had been helping her with electrical stimulation, adjusting her, and administering other chiropractic techniques. She laterally moved her arm 42 degrees for the first time in her life. Then she flexed her arm forward toward me 45 degrees for the first time. My assistant cried. The fifteen-year-old girl cried from her exertion and success. Her father cried. I stepped out of the room—and cried. I had to walk around a little until I could hold back the tears. I grabbed a tissue and wiped my eyes. Then I returned to my patient as if everything were OK and said, “All right, here’s your exercise for next week.” Seeing her move that arm after hard work on both our parts fulfilled me. Helping patients like her helps lessen the guilt that still makes me wonder why I’m still alive when better men than me like Dan Busch are not. I understand better why God spared me—he really did have a purpose for me after my life as a SEAL.

Even though Blake is in his twenties now, whenever he visits, I give him a good-night hug. I give the same affection to my stepdaughter, Eryn, whom I consider my own daughter. I give my wife, Debbie, a hug or a kiss every time I leave or return to the house. Debbie and I are so affectionate that friends tell us, “Get a room.” Years ago I had questioned why my life had been spared. Today I am thankful that God spared my life and equally thankful for the path that was laid before me. I once again have a positive mind, body, and spirit. Professionally and personally, life is good again.

Epilogue

Four Somali pirates boarded an American cargo ship, the MV
Maersk Alabama,
280 miles off the Somali coast—the first ship registered under an American flag to be hijacked since the 1800s. The pirates took Captain Richard Phillips hostage in a 25-foot lifeboat.

The USS
Bainbridge
(DDG-96) arrived and asked the pirates to release Captain Phillips. A P-3 Orion flew overhead, monitoring the situation. The pirates refused to release the captain until they received a million-dollar ransom.

Under the cover of darkness, a SEAL team parachuted into the ocean and linked up with the
Bainbridge.

The lifeboat ran out of fuel, and the wind churned up the ocean. Becoming anxious about the rough seas, the pirates allowed the
Bainbridge
to tow it into calmer waters.

Sunday night, April 12, 2009, nearly 30 yards apart, both the
Bainbridge
and the lifeboat pitched and rolled in the dark. Inside the
Bainbridge,
one of the pirates negotiated a million-dollar ransom. On the fantail, three snipers and their spotters, dressed in black, observed the lifeboat, relaying information on all activity to the SEAL commander. Even with KN-250 night-vision scopes, the best, everything is flat—two-dimensional.

“Tango aiming AK at Hotel’s back,” a spotter reported. The terrorist was aiming his rifle at the hostage.

Two other pirates poked their heads above deck to see what was going on.

Each sniper had a square of Velcro on each side of his Win Mag. Attached to the Velcro was a signaling device. When a sniper had a pirate in his sights, he pressed the device, sending a signal back to the SEAL commander that shone as a green light. One light for each sniper.

Over their radio earpieces, the snipers heard their commander give the execute order: “Stand by, stand by. Three, two, one, execute, execute.” From the
Bainbridge
’s fantail, the three snipers each simultaneously fired one head shot. The three pirates fell. An assault team motored to the lifeboat and freed Captain Phillips. Other SEALs apprehended the pirate negotiating on board the
Bainbridge.

Once again, the SEAL Team Six sniper standards have been tested—and the standards remain high. Most of the snipers’ missions remain classified to the general public, their own families, and even fellow SEALs. It is difficult for people to comprehend or appreciate the incredible amounts of training and risks those men undergo. For the most part, their commitment, sacrifice, and patriotism will continue to remain hidden.

SPECIAL OPERATIONS WARRIOR FOUNDATION

The Special Operations Warrior Foundation was founded in 1980 as the Colonel Arthur D. “Bull” Simons Scholarship Fund to provide college educations for the seventeen children surviving the nine special operations men killed or incapacitated in April of that year at Desert One in Iran during the failed attempt to rescue American hostages from the U.S. Embassy in Tehran. It was named in honor of the legendary Army Green Beret, Bull Simons, who repeatedly risked his life on rescue missions.

Following creation of the U.S. Special Operations Command, and as casualties mounted from actions such as Operations Urgent Fury (Grenada), Just Cause (Panama), Desert Storm (Kuwait and Iraq), and Restore Hope (Somalia), the Bull Simons Fund gradually expanded its outreach program to encompass all special operations forces. Thus in 1995 the Family Liaison Action Group (established to support the families of the Iranian hostages) and the Spectre (air force gunship) Association Scholarship Fund merged to form the Special Operations Warrior Foundation. In 1998 the Warrior Foundation extended its scholarship and financial aid counseling to cover training fatalities as well as operational fatalities since the inception of the foundation in 1980. This action immediately made 205 more children eligible for college funding.

The Warrior Foundation’s mission is to provide a college education to every child who has lost a parent serving in the U.S. Special Operations Command and its units in any branch of the armed forces during an operational or training mission. These personnel are stationed in units throughout the United States and at overseas bases. Some of the largest concentrations of special operations forces are at military bases at Camp Lejeune and Fort Bragg, North Carolina; Hurlburt Field, Florida; Coronado Naval Station, California; Dam Neck, Virginia; MacDill Air Force Base, Florida; Fort Lewis, Washington; Fort Stewart, Georgia; Fort Campbell, Kentucky; Little Creek, Virginia; Fort Carson, Colorado; Cannon Air Force Base, New Mexico; Royal Air Force Mildenhall, United Kingdom; and Kadena Air Base, Japan.

The Warrior Foundation also provides immediate financial assistance to special operations personnel severely wounded in the war against terrorism.

Today, the Warrior Foundation is committed to providing scholarship grants,
not loans,
to more than seven hundred children. These children survive more than six hundred special operations personnel who gave their lives in patriotic service to their country, including those who died fighting our nation’s war against terrorism as part of Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan and the Philippines, as well as Operation Iraqi Freedom.

To date, 121 children of fallen special operations warriors have graduated from college. Children from all military services have received or been offered Warrior Foundation scholarships.

Contact information:

Special Operations Warrior Foundation

P.O. Box 13483

Tampa, FL 33690

www.specialops.org

E-mail: [email protected]

Toll-free phone: 1-877-337-7693

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Howard’s Acknowledgments

I’d like to thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for all my blessings. Thanks for the guardian angels that kept me alive while in harm’s way.

I’m very thankful for the people of Wayne County, Georgia, who have always stood behind me and been a source of strength, motivation, and inspiration.

Special thanks to my patients, who have allowed me to be their chiropractor. I love you all.

Thanks to my coauthor, Steve Templin, who resurrected a dead project in this book and worked tirelessly to perfect it.

I’m truly blessed to have been given two careers that were/are exceptional and that I truly loved. I’m happy every day to come to work and help people, which, as corny as it sounds, was the reason I became a SEAL in the first place.

God bless America and our fighting men and women.

Steve’s Acknowledgments

I’ve been blessed. During Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training with Class 143, I first met Howard Wasdin. We’d finished another brutal day of training, and Howard asked, “Who wants to go with me for a jog on the beach?” I thought he was nuts.
Hadn’t we had enough for the day?!
Even nuttier were the guys who followed him. Howard and I became friends. We hung out with the guys in Tijuana on Saturday, and he dragged me to church on Sunday. Our paths split when I injured myself and rolled back to Class 144, but I never forgot him.

Years later, waiting for a flight at Los Angeles International Airport, I slipped into the bookstore to kill some time and soon found myself in the middle of a war zone—I had picked Mark Bowden’s excellent book
Black Hawk Down
. I looked in the index to see if any SEALs were involved. To my surprise, I ran across Howard’s name.
No way.
I thought for sure somebody would write the rest of his story, and I’d be one of the first to buy it. Years went by, though, and no book. Thanks to Facebook, I hooked up with Howard again. I’m fortunate he waited to tell his story. Coauthoring his biography has been the ride of a lifetime—thanks, Howard!

I’m also blessed that my wife, Reiko, and children, Kent and Maria, have given me a taste of heaven. Of course, I couldn’t have come into this world without my mother, Gwen, who has always been there to support me and let me do my own thing; some of my fondest early memories are exploring the Arizona desert alone before I was old enough to attend school. I’m thankful to my father, Art, for the times he was there for me. My grandfather Robert taught me how to negotiate 10 percent off a can of paint at the hardware store. Grandpa loved me like a son, and I loved him like a father. I’m sure he’s looking down on this book with a smile—writing has been my dream since early elementary school. Carol Scarr gave Howard and me excellent writing advice on earlier drafts and has been a great friend.