2RHPZ
05-24-2004, 05:33 PM
THAT OTHERS MAY LIVE
An inspiring story about Amerian hero Jason Cunningham,*
by Daniel Balch
Printed in Volume 1, Issue 2
http://www.abundantlifemagazine.org/othersmaylive
"Razor 1, we are under heavy fire, LZ is hot." The radio crackled over the reverberation of the MH-47 helicopter rotors. In the chopper, fifteen Army Rangers and three Air Force special operators sat, anxiously awaiting touchdown. Of the three airmen, one was twenty-six-year-old Senior Airman Jason Cunningham, a Pararescue Jumper, or PJ.*
The date was March 4, 2002, the time was 0400, and the place was the Shar-E-Khot Valley, Eastern Afghanistan. Cunningham breathed a silent prayer, reflecting on his decision to join the military. While he first desired to be a Navy SEAL, he volunteered for Air Force Special Tactics Indoctrination School, or "Superman School" because he wanted his primary mission to be saving lives.
The school was appropriately named, because for every ten men who strive to earn the right to wear the maroon beret, nine fail. "That others may live" is their motto. Trained specifically for rescuing downed pilots behind enemy lines, PJs are experts in emergency medicine, parachuting, marksmanship, scuba diving, and field tactics.
Now faced with imminent combat, Cunningham knew his country had given him her best; he was to return the favor. The Rangers' objective was to dislodge al-Qaeda and Taliban guerrillas from a treacherous, rocky hillside ever known thereafter as "Robert's Ridge," named after a SEAL who was killed in action on its bloodstained slopes. Cunningham's mission was to treat the wounded and to provide cover for the Combat Controller calling in air strikes.*
"Standby for landing." As the chopper descended into the valley, the terrorists opened up with RPG's, DshK's, and AK-47's. Hearing the chopper being hit by multiple rounds of automatic weapons, Cunningham became drenched in hydraulic fluid before the aircraft touched down on the rock-strewn ground.
Exiting the chopper with his team, he saw that a soldier had already taken a hit, so he opened his rucksack and began administering first aid to the wounded man. The rest of the Rangers formed a perimeter around the damaged chopper and began picking off enemy troops.
After stabilizing the soldier, Cunningham looked to see another helicopter drop off reinforcements at the LZ. Several more wounded were coming in, so he had them placed inside the downed chopper for protection. Then he, a Ranger medic, and a helicopter medic started treating the wounded just as enemy mortar rounds started impacting around their position.
"Fire in the cockpit!" someone shouted. With the blaze growing closer to the wounded, the three medics evacuated them outside behind a large boulder. Now fully exposed to hostile fire, Cunningham resumed working until he noticed a sizable force of Taliban fighters approaching the makeshift hospital. With no other options available, the three men moved the wounded once again while simultaneously firing at the enemy.*
While making his eleventh attempt to rescue another wounded Ranger, Cunningham was shot in the right side of his stomach, the bullet passing through his pelvis. He knew he was in serious condition but chose to keep fighting and treating the wounded. The stranded team of special operators requested a medevac chopper, but it was denied because of the volume of hostile fire. Although he was slowly losing blood and becoming weaker by the moment, Cunningham continued to administer aid and move the wounded when al-Qaeda troops threatened to overrun their position.*
At about 1600, the tide of the battle began to turn, the superior marksmanship and tactics of the Rangers paid off, and AC-130 gunships began neutralizing Taliban positions. But Cunningham's fate was sealed, and at 1930 he collapsed from loss of blood and internal injuries. His comrades performed CPR and desperately tried to revive him, but within thirty minutes he had breathed his last. Jason Cunningham was dead. He had saved the lives of dozens while giving his own.
His sacrifice was not in vain. Operation Anaconda was an astounding triumph for the American military, but there is always a price tag on victory. Seven men of courage gave their lives on that bleak mountainside, but thanks to Jason Cunningham and others, dozens of wounded men survived.*
For gallantry in action, Cunningham was posthumously awarded the Air Force Cross, an award second only to the Medal of Honor. He now lies at rest at Arlington National Cemetery.*
"That others may live" was his life's motto, and we as Americans must never forget his story.
It is the soldier, not the reporter who has given us freedom of press. It is the soldier, not the poet who has given us freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer who gives us freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, whose coffin is draped by the flag, and who allows the protester to burn the flag.
Father Dennis Edward O'Brien,
U.S. Army Chaplain
An inspiring story about Amerian hero Jason Cunningham,*
by Daniel Balch
Printed in Volume 1, Issue 2
http://www.abundantlifemagazine.org/othersmaylive
"Razor 1, we are under heavy fire, LZ is hot." The radio crackled over the reverberation of the MH-47 helicopter rotors. In the chopper, fifteen Army Rangers and three Air Force special operators sat, anxiously awaiting touchdown. Of the three airmen, one was twenty-six-year-old Senior Airman Jason Cunningham, a Pararescue Jumper, or PJ.*
The date was March 4, 2002, the time was 0400, and the place was the Shar-E-Khot Valley, Eastern Afghanistan. Cunningham breathed a silent prayer, reflecting on his decision to join the military. While he first desired to be a Navy SEAL, he volunteered for Air Force Special Tactics Indoctrination School, or "Superman School" because he wanted his primary mission to be saving lives.
The school was appropriately named, because for every ten men who strive to earn the right to wear the maroon beret, nine fail. "That others may live" is their motto. Trained specifically for rescuing downed pilots behind enemy lines, PJs are experts in emergency medicine, parachuting, marksmanship, scuba diving, and field tactics.
Now faced with imminent combat, Cunningham knew his country had given him her best; he was to return the favor. The Rangers' objective was to dislodge al-Qaeda and Taliban guerrillas from a treacherous, rocky hillside ever known thereafter as "Robert's Ridge," named after a SEAL who was killed in action on its bloodstained slopes. Cunningham's mission was to treat the wounded and to provide cover for the Combat Controller calling in air strikes.*
"Standby for landing." As the chopper descended into the valley, the terrorists opened up with RPG's, DshK's, and AK-47's. Hearing the chopper being hit by multiple rounds of automatic weapons, Cunningham became drenched in hydraulic fluid before the aircraft touched down on the rock-strewn ground.
Exiting the chopper with his team, he saw that a soldier had already taken a hit, so he opened his rucksack and began administering first aid to the wounded man. The rest of the Rangers formed a perimeter around the damaged chopper and began picking off enemy troops.
After stabilizing the soldier, Cunningham looked to see another helicopter drop off reinforcements at the LZ. Several more wounded were coming in, so he had them placed inside the downed chopper for protection. Then he, a Ranger medic, and a helicopter medic started treating the wounded just as enemy mortar rounds started impacting around their position.
"Fire in the cockpit!" someone shouted. With the blaze growing closer to the wounded, the three medics evacuated them outside behind a large boulder. Now fully exposed to hostile fire, Cunningham resumed working until he noticed a sizable force of Taliban fighters approaching the makeshift hospital. With no other options available, the three men moved the wounded once again while simultaneously firing at the enemy.*
While making his eleventh attempt to rescue another wounded Ranger, Cunningham was shot in the right side of his stomach, the bullet passing through his pelvis. He knew he was in serious condition but chose to keep fighting and treating the wounded. The stranded team of special operators requested a medevac chopper, but it was denied because of the volume of hostile fire. Although he was slowly losing blood and becoming weaker by the moment, Cunningham continued to administer aid and move the wounded when al-Qaeda troops threatened to overrun their position.*
At about 1600, the tide of the battle began to turn, the superior marksmanship and tactics of the Rangers paid off, and AC-130 gunships began neutralizing Taliban positions. But Cunningham's fate was sealed, and at 1930 he collapsed from loss of blood and internal injuries. His comrades performed CPR and desperately tried to revive him, but within thirty minutes he had breathed his last. Jason Cunningham was dead. He had saved the lives of dozens while giving his own.
His sacrifice was not in vain. Operation Anaconda was an astounding triumph for the American military, but there is always a price tag on victory. Seven men of courage gave their lives on that bleak mountainside, but thanks to Jason Cunningham and others, dozens of wounded men survived.*
For gallantry in action, Cunningham was posthumously awarded the Air Force Cross, an award second only to the Medal of Honor. He now lies at rest at Arlington National Cemetery.*
"That others may live" was his life's motto, and we as Americans must never forget his story.
It is the soldier, not the reporter who has given us freedom of press. It is the soldier, not the poet who has given us freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer who gives us freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, whose coffin is draped by the flag, and who allows the protester to burn the flag.
Father Dennis Edward O'Brien,
U.S. Army Chaplain