As I reflect upon my experience in the Persian Gulf War I can recall the fighting all too clear. The time was 2110 hours on 16 January 1991. The ground war had been underway for five days and I was mentally exhausted. My platoon had been assigned the duty of clearing bunkers. During the last portion of our briefing we were given explicit instructions to ensure that we all made it back alive. We were also instructed to take prisoners if we could, if not, do what you were trained to do, "kill". Those orders will always remind me of the reason I am alive today.
Within minutes of receiving our order we were headed to what was going to be a turning point in my life, front line combat. After walking almost an hour a member of my team detected movement about one hundred meters straight ahead. I halted my squad, grabbed the radio from Pvt. Tucker and warned the remainder of my platoon. I whispered into the handset, " Rock six, Rock six, this is, rock two Charlie, we have...