WMDs
Luttrell uses imagery to prove that he is well-versed in the technology involved in creating nuclear weapons program. This insight is undermined by the revelation immediately beforehand that he is unschooled in the reality of the fact that in the twenty years since Americans were told Saddam Hussein was in possession of weapons of mass destruction beyond all room for doubt, not one has ever been found:
“using a centrifuge to spin uranium-238, thus driving the heavy neutrons outward, like water off the lettuce in a salad spinner...takes up to seven years, at which time, if you’ve had a trouble-free run, you cut off the outside edges of the uranium and there you have a large hunk of heavy-molecule uranium-235. Cut that in half and then slam the two pieces together by high explosive in a confined steel space, like a rocket or a bomb, and right there it’s Hiroshima all over again.”
Shoulder…Meet Chip
Let there be no question about it. Luttrell is writing more than just a story of survival following a truly disastrous military operation involving the elite of the elites. He is writing political propaganda and the ideological position from he writes is far less difficult to locate than any trace of evidence of WMD in Iraq. Luttrell is a hardcore conservative with a chip on his shoulder about a liberal conspiracy he seems at times almost willing to identify with the Taliban terrorists he is fighting against:
“That situation might look simple in Washington, where the human rights of terrorists are often given high priority. And I am certain liberal politicians would defend their position to the death. Because everyone knows liberals have never been wrong about anything. You can ask them. Anytime…I guess we’d better start getting used to the consequences and permit the American liberals to squeak and squeal us to ultimate defeat. I believe that’s what it’s called when you pack up and go home.”
On the Road to Hindu Kush
The differentiation between city fighting in Baghdad and the mission into the mountains is highlighted through imagery designed to increase the sense of invincible machismo that defines the SEAL team members. Notice the sly putdown of regular soldiers not deemed quite as ideally suited to the true terrors of war as the elite:
"The pure clarity of purpose was inspirational to us. Gone were the treacherous, dusty backstreets of Baghdad, where even children of three and four were taught to hate us. Dead ahead, in Afghanistan, awaited an ancient battleground where we could match our enemy, strength for strength, stealth for stealth, steel for steel. This might be, perhaps, a little daunting for regular soldiers. But not for SEALs.”
The Key to Surviving
So how did one very badly injured Navy SEAL manage to survive while basically immobilized and at the mercy of Afghan locals who were themselves at the mercy of the Taliban? The answer is not necessarily one of humanitarianism, but rather old-fashioned commitment to ancient honor:
“Lokhay means not only providing care and shelter, it means an unbreakable commitment to defend that wounded man to the death…Lokhay means the population of that village will fight to the last man, honorbound to protect the individual they have invited in to share their hospitality. And this is not something to have a chitchat about when things get rough. It’s not a point of renegotiation. This is strictly nonnegotiable.”
