BOOM, the latest mortar round landed 20 yards to my left. My head rung,my lungs and eyes seared from the smoke as I curled farther down in my hole. Senior Chief Michaels flashed by and hollered, “Willis get some planes in here”. “I'm trying boss” as I desperately attempted to contact the base at Bagram. “Charlie actual, this is razor 2-1, we are requesting immediate air support at checkpoint heineken”. I repeated this call 4 times before Captain Axelson flopped down in my hole, emptied a clip down the hill, and looked at me over his shoulder, still firing. “Willis gimme that darn radio”. He grabbed the headset and screamed “broken arrow, broken arrow. My guys are dying out here”.  At this the words “my guys are dying” flashed through the base like wildfire. A quick reaction team of more SEALs scrambled into a already spun up chopper. 2 flights of warthogs, an AC-130, Apaches, and F-16s joined the already crowded airspace. “Razor 2-1, Charlie actual, can you hold for 45 minutes?”. “Uh roger” I replied with uncertainty in my voice. At this point the order spread across the hill “get low we've got the whole frickin air force inbound”. Gunfire weaved back in forth as the first pair of A-10s came on station, joined by the F-16s and the AC-130. The choppers were still 20 minutes out, but the planes were gonna light it up. “Razor 2-1 is this shooter (the AC-130 weapons officer) covered by boar (the A-10 flight), whatcha need down there?”. “ I need you to flatten these coordinates”. Um I cant thats danger close”. “Boar 2-1 this is Razor 2-1, I need to blast it right where I tell you”. “Roger that”. At this the valley and opposite hill exploded. As night-vision goggles were standard equipment, I watched the valley and hills explode with pulses of green light. The Apaches had came on station by now, but the QRF helicopters suffered a crippling mechanical failure, and had to return to base. I was constantly on the radio, verifying targets, calling in strikes when all of a sudden I heard a sickening animal cry out in front of me. “Doc help me, help me” MAMA!!. Oh god I thought, we had a man down in a hostile environment, meanwhile the mountains were exploding all around us. Over the radio I called “All units ceasefire, we have a man down, we have a man down. Captain Axelson called over the squad radio “ Willis, we’ll pull cover, you go get em and when you grab run like the wind, because I'm gonna line up a strike right behind you”. Oh boy. “Roger that”. I grabbed my weapon, slapped a fresh magazine in the red hot mag well and rubbed my good luck charm, a burned, bloodstained, and faded Ace of Spades that I carried in the in band of my helmet. I took a deep breath, hopped over the lip of my hole, and took off. Captain Axelson screamed “covering fire” and the rest of the platoon stood up and emptied their weapons down the hill. I heard the raw bursts from Rodriguez's SAW and Andrew’s M240. I heard the smaller, quit pops of the rest of the platoons suppressed M4s. I ran down the valley and reached Woods, who was now unconscious and choking on his blood from a sucking chest wound. 2 bullets punched through his body armor and were now embedded in his lungs. His lungs were collapsing due to the pressure of blood on them. I new I had to act fast, I ripped the chest needle out the package, and pounded it into his chest. I was about to lift Woods into a fireman's carry when an armed Taliban fighter appeared in front of me, smiling, and holding an AK-47 at my chest. He was no more than 30 feet away. I dropped Woods and grabbed my pistol when all of a sudden, that fighters head exploded showering the ground with blood, and bits of brain. Cowboy called over the radio “looks like you needed some help down there”. Cowboy was the team sniper, and had the reputation of being able to hit a moving Gatorade bottle at 400 yards with a single shot, but was a gentle giant on all other matters. “Thanks”, I turned back to getting Woods to the exfil point. I hoisted him up over my shoulder, and began to slog up the hill. I heard the lowdown, knuckle dragging, nasty turbofan swagger of the Warthogs behind me. I guess they opened up with the deep, throaty uurrpppp sound of the 30mm cannons. Something punched me in the back multiple times. I knew a that moment I had been hit. And hit bad. “Guys I need, I need help down here. I got hit”. The world went black. And I pitched forward, and collapsed to the deck. The rounds tore through my back, entered my lungs and blew out my chest. I don't really remember much, but I do remember the rest of the platoon rushing down the hill, firing like mad men. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth and throat and mixed with the smoke and smell of burnt gunpowder and made me nauseous. I blacked out again in a puddle of vomit, Rodriguez picked me up like a child. I managed to croak “ grab Woods he’s worse than me” before vomiting all over Rodriguez. Cowboy grabbed Woods, turned and took off back up the slope. Soon after reaching the top of the hill, I lay wrapped in a sleeping bag, fading in and out of consciousness  and still bleeding from my chest wounds. T’O the platoons junior corpsman was periodically checking on Woods and I, while firing down the hill with one hand and working on us with the other. I distinctly  remember the mountain being cold and T’O’s hot shell casings bouncing off my chest and landing in the snow with a faint metallic clink. I remember the blood seeping out of the corner of my mouth, forming a puddle in the snow and T’O coming over, wiping away the blood and telling me to hang in there because no matter what I’ll be going home. What felt like an eternity passed before Woods heard a faint sound. He shifted in his sleeping bag and c***ed his head to the sky. “Dude its a helicopter” he said weakly. And sure enough I began to hear the steady chop chop chop of the rotors and the whine of the turbos. The sound steadily increased but was drowned out by the gunfire that absolutely engulfed the valley and surrounding hills. I forgot that the entire air force was still in the sky, and were determined that there were not going to be anymore friendly casualties. A radio headset squawked and Captain Axelson answered and then tossed an infrared strobe down into the snow. The strobe was invisible to the naked eye, but with NVGs you could see the pulsing, blinding light if the strobe. The strobe marked the landing zone for the chopper and our brothers. Somebody yelled 2 minutes and T’O hustled over to check Woods and I’s vitals. The look on T’O’s face grew grim as Woods’s condition grew worse. The huge blackedout chinook piloted by the members of the insanely courageous Army 160 SOAR (Special Operations Aviation Regiment), banked and settled into a hover above the mountain top and the ramp dropped, spilling our brothers out into the hell known as Al Harutya Mountain. Familiar faces flashed by, some of them stopping to bump knuckles with Woods and I. Mario, Wolf, Speeder, JJ, Hotshot, and more of my angelic brothers bounded off the chopper heading are desperate call for help. They took up positions around the defilade at the hilltop, ready to defend us against whatever hell faced us in the valley. Darkness fell along with the temperature and our moods grew grim. Apparently the Air Force had decided to pull our air cover because a missile had been fired at one of the Apaches blasting the valleys. As the temperature grew colder and the mood darker I began to think about my amazing wife Dani and my 2 bundles of joy, Ej and Matt. Man, I thought, this is really gonna suck for Dani and the kids if I don't make it. I guess it was about 1:30 or so in the morning when Woods took a turn for the worst. He rattled and wheezed but managed to say 2 things. Tell Andrea I love her and I'm sorry. Then he stopped breathing and his eyes rolled back into his head and at that point we all knew there was nothing we could do. T’O pumped his chest for 15 minutes or so before ripping off his helmet and chucking it to the ground “DAMMIT” he screamed before he came to check on me. Captain Axelson walked over and said “how ya doin son?” and I drew up the strength to answer “it hurts to breathe boss”. At this he nodded and grabbed T’O by the shoulder and told him in so many kind words to get a chopper in here and get all of us out before we lose another one I don't know how he did but T’O managed to get a chopper to the mountain. As T’O and the Airforce PJ on the chopper, were sliding my stretcher across the steel deck, I took one long, last look at that god forsaken mountain, hocked a wad of blood and spit up, and spit onto the snow before passing out. I woke up in Landstuhl, Germany with IVs in my arm, a burning feeling in my chest, and a dry mouth. I rasped out “water please” and a cute Army nurse hustled in with a tray and helped me drink. “Honey she said, I have no idea how you made it but you did” and backed out of the room with tears brimming in her eyes. A few minutes later I heard the gruff voice of my SEAL team commander Lieutenant Commander Erik Willis. “He's my SEAL and I'm gonna see him, come hell or high water”. “Sir you can't go in there just yet” and hearing this I chuckled to myself, knowing that nobody was going to stop my commander. He barged into my room and stood there, trying not to cry. “Son”, his voice quivering, “Son I have no words for you. You made me and my country proud”. “I come bearing gifts as well”. “Corporal were ready” he yelled down the hallway. A split second later, I heard the shrill voice I knew all too well yell “DADDIES UP”. Ej exploded into the room and ran over to the gurney and hugged me. Dani followed holding Matt until a nurse took him. Ej sat in a chair will Dani stared at me. “Hey baby” I rasped and she lost it. Blubbering, trying to wipe her eyes she choked out “ when they told me to fly to Germany, I feared the worst” By now she had reached the gurney and was standing over me, stroking my hair. “Look baby I'm fine, just a little busted up.” “Minor stuff”. At this she cried even harder until I reached up and pulled her down into a lasting kiss that left her breathless. Over the next few days various team members and high ranking military members visited me until I was cleared to fly home to Walter-Reed Hospital, and then to home. On various days, my chest hurts and I lift up my shirt revealing bullet scars, stitch marks and needle holes and remember that day. The day it all went south on Al Harutya. The day I lost my best friend Anthony Patrick Woods. R.I.P Petty Officer 1st Class (SEAL), Anthony Patrick Woods, better known as Outlaw. HOOYAH BROTHER.