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My mind raced as we followed the trail through the rough mountain terrain. Every step revealed more areas for enemies to hide and set up ambush.

This Op was simple, just patrol and report. I should have learned by now that we would never get by with a simple Op. I should have realized by now that our destiny was to fight. It's what we born for, what we were good at.

I'm Lance Corporal Dakota Brothers of the United States Marine Corps Special Operations Group Joint Task Force. I want to share with you some of my experiences while serving actively in that capacity. I have changed the names and locations for this story.

The mountainous terrain spread out in all directions, We had been walking through these rock crags and crevices for 2 days without incident. Nighttime was the best because the clear night sky offered a view of the cosmos unlike any I had seen before. It was as if this part of hell was a little closer to the stars than the rest. Maybe it was Gods' way of making up for putting a piece of hell on this earth, While you are in it you get this beautiful view at night so that you still feel connected to him. Each star looked close enough to reach out and pluck from the sky, I envisioned diamonds and jewels waiting for us to excavate them as payment for the torture we were enduring. This bejeweled heaven did not take away the reality that in these mountains the enemy waited like a hungry beast ready to devour us at first opportunity.

Over the past couple of years I had learned to endure many things and was almost sickened whenever I thought about what had become normal to me. The filth and heat and bugs had all become commonplace and death had become a companion to us all. We had visited Deaths' realm on more than a few occasions always leaving at least one of us behind as ransom for the others. Always one of us became payment for our passage, even that had become normal.

Now in this God forsaken pit we once again would pay the heavy bounty for our travels. We would cast our sacrifice upon this alter and pray that it was acceptable.

Day one of our travels had revealed much about the subject of our latest hunt. The small group of Al-Qaeda that we trailed knew this terrain better than any who came here. Every cave and pass was committed to memory so that maps were not necessary. We had to depend on our guide to lead us through and prayed that terrorists had not purchased his loyalty.

Among the others who traveled with us was PFC Michael Farnesky. Farnesky was only

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