13 years ago today my ODA was recovering from an experience that remains embedded in our consciousness. Having survived a firefight with the odds stacked against us. In the early morning on the day prior, a great Special Forces Green Beret sacrificed his life......

Earlier today I posted a tweet of SSG Robert J Miller, and young SF weapons expert who was everything a GB should be and more. Rob was more than just a teammate, he was my friend and brother in Arms. His death was the first but not the last I witnessed...

That being said, not a day goes by I where I remember the events of that day. Fighting alongside him, in a near ambush, in the cold darkness of that morning, reacting to contact with in feet of enemy insurgents with night vision giving us the only advantage.

That and superior skill. A lesson learned was that it takes only one bullet to change the course of history. I often wonder what if that bullet hit me. That night two did, but I was fortunately the rounds hit my body armor.

But the thought has never escaped me as to whether or not of what happened was meant to happen or it was just dumb luck. Never-the-less that Robs death means more to me now 13 years after the fact than it did the day after his death.

I really don’t know how to articulate the totality of my emotions that I am currently feeling. But I really feel impressed there is someone out there in the world that needs to read what I am saying. I’m not looking for sympathy or accolades.

It’s a weird feeling, and as I’m typing this out, I am shaking. Everyday since that event I have stepped up my game. Facing challenges head on. Though not perfect nor consistent, I have been and will continue to put up the fight.

I miss being on an ODA, I miss the brotherhood (lady soldiers included) of military. Going through trials together sucks, but afterwards there is a sense of togetherness that’s hard to explain. Anyway, this is where I am at emotionally this evening.

- DOL