Delta Force Quotes

JEMAINE Lisa? BRET Yes, she's in Delta Force. She's been deployed to Fallujah. JEMAINE But she works in the croissant shop. BRET Yeah, she's got two jobs. She's a pastry chef and a sniper.

No matter what a person does to cover up and conceal themselves, when we write and lose control, I can spot a person from Alabama, Florida, South Carolina a mile away even if they make no exact reference to location. Their words are lush like the land they come from, filled with nine aunties, people named Bubba. There is something extravagant and wild about what they have to say — snakes on the roof of a car, swamps, a delta, sweat, the smell of sea, buzz of an air conditioner, Coca-Cola — something fertile, with a hidden danger or shame, thick like the humidity, unspoken yet ever-present. Often when a southerner reads, the members of the class look at each other, and you can hear them thinking, gee, I can't write like that. The power and force of the land is heard in the piece. These southerners know the names of what shrubs hang over what creek, what dogwood flowers bloom what color, what kind of soil is under their feet. I tease the class, "Pay no mind. It's the southern writing gene. The rest of us have to toil away.

I was sure the old man knew nothing about the beatitudes, ecstasies, dazzling reverberations of sexual encounters. Cut out the poetry was his message. Clinical sex, deprived of all the warmth of love—the orchestration of all the senses, touch, hearing, sight, palate; all the euphoric accompaniments, back-ground music, moods, atmosphere, variations—forced him to resort to literary aphrodisiacs.

Inherited wealth may be easily squandered, but inherited poverty is a legacy almost impossible to loose.

It’s my job.” “Then thanks for showing up at work today.

I swear to Christ, I’ll reverse haunt your ass if you even think about dying on me. I’ll do séances and get out the Ouija board and call your spirit back to earth and harass you for the rest of eternity if you die. Got it?

everyone you meet is fighting an invisible battle you know nothing about, so you should always be kind.

make a simple plan, inform everyone involved with it, don’t change it, and kick it in the ass.

If you don’t respect fear then there’s no way you can handle it. Fear can be damn dangerous, but if you can come to grips with it, wrestle it, understand it, then you’ve got a chance to work around it.

the human mind works in three elementary phases: saturate, incubate, and illuminate. Time allows us to saturate our mind with context, so we can incubate and spark the eureka moments of illumination that connect the dots, snap together patterns, and discover the options that allow us to find our paths.

The author, then in the final stage as a candidate for Delta Force, was asked by the unit's foreboding colonel what he thought of the evaluation's Stress Week. He responded that he was waiting for it to begin, reasoning that, used to responsibility for others while leading a platoon, he only had himself to worry about. However hard the trial, he got four meals a day, nobody shot at, him, and the weather was pleasant.

Whether in combat, business, or your personal life, to master any situation, no matter how complex; learn the lesson of Delta Force, of Lewis and Clark, and even John Walker Lindh: When in doubt, develop the situation!

Although the Delta Force culture is one of quiet professionalism that values humility over self-aggrandizement, that same culture also instills an innate sense of responsibility to always strive to make a contribution to the greater good.

From the vantage point of my warm, comfortable spot on mother earth, I could see off into infinite space and the eternity of time. In just a few hours, I thought, some of us are going to make that leap into eternity. And I will be one of the instruments of that voyage. I may also be one of the travelers....It's going to happen sooner or later. But if today is my day-I'm going to have a cup of coffee first.

I can tell you think being a romantic is a bad thing, and while I freely admit to wanting to find a man to spend the rest of my life with, I do know the world isn’t always sunshine and roses. Most of the time it’s overcast skies and poison ivy. That’s why I read the books and watch the movies I do. If the only way I can experience romance is through my imagination and fairy-tale books and the weddings of English Royalty, I’m going to do it.

Anyone can recognize a pattern; it’s having the courage of your convictions to act on it that matters. Audacity isn’t taking senseless risks, or being rash; it’s a natural by-product of confidence and knowledge, and I was supremely confident in my people and in how much we knew about what was going on around us.

What’s up with Mary and Truck?” Emily asked Fletch once everyone had left. He shrugged. “They like each other, but neither will admit it.” “They’re acting like grade-school kids.” “Yup.” Fletch was smiling. “But it’s amusing as hell. I can’t wait until they both let go of whatever it is that’s holding them back and go for it.

On the drive to Paris, Michelle barely drew breath, speaking to her uncle about her holiday and pointing out landmarks to Delta. Secretly, Delta was relieved. She needed time to acclimatize to the potent force that was Édouard Valois. Sitting beside him in the front of the black Mercedes-Benz, she was all too aware of his presence: his sheer size, his stunning profile, his elegant hands upon the steering wheel deftly controlling the luxury machine, his dynamic and intriguing personality. He was living, breathing masculine perfection.

I always love that 'we' part from a staff officer.

Instead of focusing on the opportunity at hand, risk-averse leaders get treed by the potential risk, and fall victim to the greatest operational failure of all: the failure to try.

without the danger there cannot arise the opportunity.

Love freely given is the best kind of medicine out there.

What is common sense? It’s knowledge of patterns—both conscious and unconscious.

Risk aversion and fear of the unknown are direct symptoms of a lack of context, and are the polar opposites of audacity.

Don’t get treed by a chihuahua!” Before making mission-critical decisions, always ensure that you have context. It’s common sense.

understand the importance of looking at things as they are and not as they were

Lord love a duck, he was lethal.

Repetition is the single most powerful lever we have to improve skills, because it uses the built-in mechanism for making the wires of our brains faster and more accurate.

How do perfectly smart people make bad decisions? In an organizational context, it’s almost always the result of a lack of shared reality.

The single best thinking and decision-making tool a leader has is to consistently conduct reality checks by asking a profoundly simple question: “What’s your recommendation?

Being with someone you love means you deal with the shit as well as the roses.

The Admiral is one smooth talker on the radio. Most important in this business was his willingness to risk everything for his fellow man, an unhealthy but common trait among air force combat controllers.

thanks in part to the security force Kincaid paid to watch over the Delta Queen and surrounding parking lots. After all, it just wouldn’t do for someone to get mugged before he could board the riverboat and lose his money in the casino.

You have to take care of yourself, but you should only do so after you have taken care of the mission, and the men. Never put your own personal well-being, or advancement, ahead of the accomplishment of your mission and taking care of your men. . . .

With all the latest whiz-bang technology and massive databases and communications pipes at their disposal, there was a constant self-generated pressure to put all the technology to good use, to do something. Unfortunately, that something was the unending creation of timelines, policies, and plans—the embalming fluid of organizational nimbleness.

Romance isn’t about the outer trappings society has pushed down our throats from the time we were little. It’s showing in all the little ways that you care about the person you’re with. That you’ll protect her if the shit hits the fan, that you’ll provide for her, that you’ll let her choose what she wants to do and where she wants to eat, even if it’s not what you would pick for yourself.

Getting treed by a chihuahua is a metaphor for making decisions without context. Context is the reality of the situation around us. Without context, our minds have a tendency to take shortcuts and recognize patterns that aren’t really there; we connect the dots without collecting the dots first. Overreacting, underreacting, and failing to do anything at all are all symptoms of “getting treed.

Tacit knowledge is contextualized knowledge of people, places, ideas, and experiences. It involves knowing how to obtain desired endstates, knowing what to do to obtain them, and knowing when and where to act on them. It’s knowledge in practice that’s developed from direct experience and action, and usually is shared only through highly interactive conversation, storytelling, and shared experience.

To find the kinds of people with the type of on-the-ground knowledge that can enable us to understand and connect the dots, we have to imagine how to seek out and listen to them. It’s very rarely the self-styled expert or the academician, though both can make positive contributions to our knowledge base. Rather, it’s the person who has walked the specific ground, lived the specific lifestyle, and possesses a specific psychosocial mind-set whom we need.

Think of developing the situation as enlightened procrastination. Instead of indecision, going off half-cocked, or doing nothing, we understand that time is an ally that allows us to actively build context and uncover the options hidden from those who create “traditional plans” based on limited information that’s frozen in the past—before most options and opportunities have availed themselves. Developing the situation treats life like a movie, not a snapshot.

Then I remembered something I’d read that Teddy Roosevelt had said: “It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena…who strives…who spends himself…and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.

The acid test for guy-on-the-ground relevance is whether the individual possesses tacit knowledge, which is developed from direct experience and action in the actual environment. When it comes to tacit knowledge, it is generally true that the closer the person is to the environment, the more likely he or she is to possess tacit knowledge. However, when it comes to tacit knowledge, the word close does not solely connote distance. Close is a holistic concept that entails interaction, understanding, knowledge, and experience.

Years earlier, while briefing Colin Powell on the missions we conducted in Colombia, I mentioned to him that we were successful because we were nimble. We didn’t ask anyone to approve our concepts; we moved first, and figured things out as we went along. Listening intently to the story, he smiled and reflected to me that good leaders don’t wait for official blessings to try things out. They use common sense to guide them because they understand a simple fact of life in most organizations: if you ask enough people for permission, you’ll inevitably find someone who believes that they should tell you no.

Thanks to superior organization, the Egyptian armed forces scored a dual victory, on land and sea, over that second alliance. The fleet of the “Peoples of the North” was entirely destroyed and the invasion route through the Delta was cut. At the same time a third coalition of the same white-skinned Indo-Aryans was being assembled, again in Libya, against the Black Egyptian nation. Yet, this was not a racial conflict in the modern sense. To be sure, the two hostile groups were fully conscious of their ethnic and racial differences, but it was much more a question of the great movement of disinherited peoples of the north toward richer and more advanced countries. Ramses III demolished that third coalition as he had destroyed the first two.... As a result of this third victory over the Indo-Aryans, he took an exceptional number of prisoners. This enabled him to increase appreciably the slave labor force on royal construction sites and in the army. Such was invariably the procedure for acclimating white-skinned persons in Egypt, a process that became especially widespread during the low period. By bearing this in mind, we may avoid attributing a purely imaginary role to people who contributed absolutely nothing to Egyptian civilization.

You probably don’t remember this, and I’m not bringing it up now to embarrass you, but last night you told me that you’d fantasized about me. Well, the feeling’s mutual. You’ve been driving me crazy since the day you moved in. I have made love to you in my mind more than I’m comfortable admitting. But it’s not just about sex. I want to take you out. I want to tuck Annie into her bed at night and read her a bedtime story. I want to sit across from you at the table and watch you smile at something I’ve said. In case I’m not making myself clear, I want to date you, Miracle Emily Grant. You and your daughter.” “Oh.” Emily blushed a fiery red, but didn’t comment further.

Many operations involved intercepting and seizing someone traveling in a moving vehicle, often with bodyguards. The task force would surreptitiously attach a tracking beacon to the target’s car. Delta was already experimenting with technologies that used an electromagnetic pulse to shut a car’s battery down remotely. The unit also used a catapult net system that would ensnare car and driver alike. Once the car had been immobilized, operators would smash the window with a sledgehammer, pull their target through the window, and make off with him, shooting any bodyguards who posed a threat, while an outer security perimeter kept anyone who might interfere at bay. The operators had a name for these snatches: habeas grab-ass.

On the night of September 13, Bill O’Reilly had an exchange with Sam Husseini, a former spokesperson for the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee, that characterized Fox’s position as it was developing. “Here’s what we’re going to do, and I’ll let you react to it,” O’Reilly said. “We’re going to take out this Osama bin Laden. Now, whether we go in with air power or whether we go in with a Delta force, he’s a dead man walking. He’s through. He should have been through long before this. He’s been wanted for eight years. Now, they’re going to go in and they’re going to get him. If the Taliban government of Afghanistan does not cooperate, then we will damage that government with air power, probably. All right? We will blast them, because …” Husseini told O’Reilly that innocent Afghans would be killed by a protracted air strike. “Doesn’t make any difference,” O’Reilly huffed. “Bill—” “They—it was an act of war.” “No, no. It does make a difference,” Husseini said. “I don’t want more civilians dead. We’ve had civilians dead in New York and now you’re saying maybe it’s okay to have civilians dead in Afghanistan.” “Mr. Husseini, this is war.” “Yeah, exactly. And in war you don’t kill civilians. You don’t kill women and children. Those are your words, Bill.” “Oh, stop it,” O’Reilly said. “You just made the most absurd statement in the world. That means we wouldn’t have bombed the Nazis or the Japanese. We wouldn’t have done any of that, because you don’t want somebody who has declared war on us to be punished. Come on.” “Who declared war on us?” “The terrorist states have declared war, Mr. Husseini!” “Get them. Get the terrorists,” Husseini said. “Cut his mic,” O’Reilly responded, waving his finger across the screen, the lower third of which was covered with Stars and Stripes graphics and a caption that read: “AMERICA UNITES.

Matt Espenshade confirmed that in spite of the deaths of so many of the kidnappers, many more are still at large, including their leaders. Those men might hope to be forgotten; they are not. The FBI has continued its investigative interest in those involved with the kidnapping. The leaders, especially, are of prime interest to the Bureau. And now the considerable unseen assets in that region are steadily feeding back information on these targeted individuals to learn their operational methods and their locations and hunt them down. The surviving kidnappers and their colleagues are welcome to sneer at the danger. It may help them pass the time, just as it did for Bin Laden’s henchmen to chuckle at the idea of payback. If the men nobody sees coming are dispatched to capture or kill them, the surviving kidnappers will find themselves dealing with a force of air, sea, and land fighters s obsessed with the work they do that they have trained themselves into the physical and mental toughness of world-class athletes. They will carry the latest in weapons, armor, visual systems, and communication devises. Whether they are Navy SEAL fighters, DEVGRU warriors, Army Delta Force soldiers, Green Berets, or any of the elite soldiers under United States Special Operations Command (SOCOM), they will share the elite warriors’ determination to achieve success in their mission assignment. The news that they are coming for you is the worst you could receive. But nobody gets advance warning from these men. They consider themselves born for this. They have fought like panthers to be part of their team. For most of them, there is a strong sense of pride in succeeding at missions nobody else can get done; in lethal challenges. They actually prefer levels of difficulty so high it seems only a sucker would seek them, the sorts of situations seen more and more often these days. Impossible odds.

The covering up of Till’s murder was not something that was perpetrated by a few bad apples. It couldn’t have been. The erasure was a collective effort, one that continues to this day. This isn’t comfortable history to face. The more I looked at the story of the barn and came to understand the forces that moved everyone involved into the Mississippi Delta in 1955, the more I understood that the tragedy of humankind isn’t that sometimes a few depraved individuals do what the rest of us could never do. It’s that the rest of us hide those hateful things from view, never learning the lesson that hate grows stronger and more resistant when it’s pushed underground. There lies the true horror of Emmett Till’s murder and the undeserved gift of his martyrdom. Empathy only lives at the intersection of facts and imagination, and once you know his story, you can’t unknow it. Once you connect all the dots, there’s almost nowhere they don’t lead. Which is why so many have fought literally and figuratively for so long to keep the reality from view.

Guys like him…they aren’t the flowers-and-candy type. He probably won’t take you out to a romantic dinner. I don’t see him renting a plane and having it fly a banner declaring his love for you.” Rayne giggled and nodded in agreement. “But if you pay attention, you’ll see the signs that he cares. A hand against your back. Asking if you need anything. He’ll make sure you eat before him. He’ll walk on the outside of the sidewalk, making sure you’re away from traffic. The signs will be there, but they won’t ever be the big romantic gestures most women crave.” “He wraps my wrists and ankles every morning. He took my nasty snot-filled tissues yesterday without making a big deal out of it. He let me have as much cream cheese on my bagel this morning as I wanted, even though it meant I used most of it and he only had a little bit.” Penelope nodded. “Exactly. They’ll swear until they’re dead as a doornail that they aren’t romantic, when in reality, what we see in the movies and on TV as ‘romance’ is just smoke and mirrors. I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather have their brand of romance than Hollywood’s.

Both sides recognized that Ali Mohamed had one-of-a-kind skills and experiences to support each side’s uniquely self-serving interests. Both sides had independently come to the same conclusion: Ali Mohamed was not the type of individual they could trust to become a card-carrying member of their respective organizations. The tipping point was how the two sides reacted. Al Qaeda leaders were able to overlook Ali Mohamed’s lack of Muslim fanaticism and his erratic connections to the U.S. government because they couldn’t imagine how they could achieve their ultimate terror objectives without the mission-essential knowledge and skills that only he possessed. Ali Mohamed’s U.S. government handlers, on the other hand, just plain could not imagine. The result of the tipping point was 9/11. Ali Mohamed wasn’t directly responsible for the execution of 9/11, but it’s easy to imagine how he could have been directly responsible for preventing it.

By refocusing on the mission and the men, and leaving the me out of the equation, I was able to view the overall situation from an altitude that allowed me to understand the key underlying patterns through the unemotional lens of common sense. I vowed I wouldn’t waste another precious second worrying about why the commanding general disliked me, or whether he would relieve me from my command and destroy my career.

The enemy segregated itself into three tiers, with Al Qaeda (foreign Arabs) on top, Uzbeks and Chechens in the middle, and Afghan Taliban on the bottom. A caste system of sorts, where the Arab fighters actually forbade the Taliban from speaking directly to them.6 A rigid hierarchy, no communication, no shared reality, we’re in business, I thought.

French Canadian treat.

continued for five consecutive days. And they covered everything there was to know about the former Ranger and Delta Force operator, who was dubbed “a good guy, but troubled” by unnamed former colleagues. The newspapers and local cable channels built up a picture of a veteran who was having difficulties integrating back into society. They interviewed

General Hagenbeck then did something that should provide a salutary lesson for all future leaders in every profession: he changed his mind! He did this based on the reality-correcting context of the guy on the ground. Despite having stated his previous decision over a satellite radio heard by his superiors and subordinates all across the globe, General Hagenbeck pushed aside his ego and did the right thing. It would turn out to be the right decision for the mission, the right decision for his men, and the right decision for General Hagenbeck.

Most people haven’t. The army has Delta Force; the navy has the SEALs. The marines have Force Reconnaissance.

The archetypal example is portrayed in the 1991 movie Silence of the Lambs, where Jodie Foster, who plays a junior FBI agent, seeks out, listens to, and acts on information from a psychotic murderer named Hannibal Lecter. Despite the fact that Hannibal Lecter was serving a life sentence in prison while the murders took place, Jodie Foster’s character understood that Lecter had the same mind-set and many of the same life experiences as the killer she was trying to capture. Silence of the Lambs was just a movie, but if we in the United States had had someone like Hannibal Lecter who had the same mind-set and many of the same life experiences as the terrorists that masterminded 9/11, we surely would have tapped into his knowledge base, wouldn’t we?

As both men walked out the door, they simultaneously checked the chambers of their M-4 rifles. This was a reflexive habit that served the dual purpose of confirming a round was ready to fire if needed, and to cue each man’s psychological transition from the semi-relaxed, inside the compound mind-set, to the fully alert, all-senses-scanning mind-set required any time any of us headed out into the frontier.

The 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment—Delta, a.k.a. Delta Force, had been created in the 1970s as an answer to the growing problem of international terrorism. Since the Iran Hostage Crisis debacle

Risk aversion is a direct by-product of not understanding what’s going on around you, and by proxy, another version of “getting treed by a chihuahua.” Back then it didn’t seem to matter how important the mission was to national security; if there was any risk that a man might be killed or captured during an operation, the operation was deemed not politically worth the risk.

The question that high-ranking leaders always seemed to inject in any risk-averse-oriented discussion was, “Is it worth getting a man killed for?” Forty thousand people die on our highways each year, but when you get into your car each morning, do you ask yourself if driving to work is worth getting killed for?

But they were a brotherhood, even if they were different services. SEALs worked with other services on operations. Dane had worked with Delta Force, Marine Force Recon, Air Force PJs, the CIA, ATF, and DEA in the past.

It’s been said that there are no mistakes in life, only lessons. Every mistake is an opportunity to ensure that we never make it again, especially when future consequences can be much more dire.

Then a spotlight came on over a table near the front of the room. It had a white tablecloth and there was a single red rose in a vase with a yellow ribbon tied around the top. A place setting with an upside down glass, a single candle, and an empty chair completed the setup. The lights dimmed and a man at the front of the room began to speak. “The cloth is white—symbolizing the purity of their motives when answering the call to serve. The single red rose reminds us of the lives of these Americans…and their loved ones and friends who keep the faith, while seeking answers. The yellow ribbon symbolizes our continued uncertainty, hope for their return and determination to account for them. A slice of lemon reminds us of their bitter fate, captured and missing in a foreign land. A pinch of salt symbolizes the tears of our missing and their families—who long for answers after decades of uncertainty. The lighted candle reflects our hope for their return—alive or dead. The glass is inverted—to symbolize their inability to share a toast. The chair is empty—they are missing. A moment of silence for the lost heroes.

What’s up with you two?” Dane asked. “It’s complicated,” was Truck’s informative reply. “It sounds like it.” “But I’ll tell you this…she’s worth it. She’s worth every second of sleep I’ve lost, every moment of worry, and every headache she’s given me.

In love with the leader of Vanguard, an ex-gang member, ex-Delta Force commander, and a guy who shoots first and asks questions later. Also known as Jax Mercury.

Shepherd sat next to him close to the front of the plane. As it taxied for take-off, Muller took a pair of reading glasses out of his jacket pocket, a sheaf of papers from a leather briefcase and began to read, occasionally making marks in the margin with a gold fountain pen. After an hour a stewardess in a tight-fitting green uniform handed out plastic trays with finger sandwiches, followed by a colleague offering coffee or tea. Shepherd passed on the food and the drink. Muller took a cheese sandwich and put away his paperwork. ‘This is your first time in Baghdad, right?’ he asked. ‘Yeah,’ said Shepherd. The lie came easily. He doubted that Yokely would want too many people knowing that he had been a passenger on a rendition flight. ‘Although I was in Afghanistan when I was with the Regiment. Another life.’ ‘Iraq’s not dissimilar,’ said Muller. ‘The difference is that before Saddam Iraq was a decent enough country. He ran it into the ground.’ ‘The Major said you were special forces. Delta Force,

If there is one thing that always sticks in my mind about how Delta Force goes about a mission, it is the utterly businesslike attitude of the men. There is none of that Hollywood crap. No posturing, no sloganeering, no high fives, no posing, no bluster, and no bombast. Just a quiet determination to get on with the job.

All I’m saying is that I’m glad she found a man like you.” Chase’s chin fell to his chest in relief. It wasn’t that he needed Sean’s approval, but he sure was glad he had it. “Thanks. Means a lot.” “But if you hurt her, there’s nowhere on this planet you can hide from me or my brothers,” Sean concluded. Chase couldn’t help it. He chuckled. That was what he’d expected Sean to say when he claimed Sadie as his. “Right. Glad we got that out of the way.

Pages 85-87: Lower Burma when first occupied … was a vast deltaic plain of swamp and jungle, with a secure rainfall; when the opening of the canal created a market for rice, this wide expanse of land was rapidly reclaimed by small cultivators … Formerly, the villager in Lower Burma, like peasants in general, cultivated primarily for home consumption, and it has always been the express policy of the Government to encourage peasant proprietorship. Land in the delta was abundant … The opening of the canal provided a certain and profitable market for as much rice as people could grow. … men from Upper Burma crowded down to join in the scramble for land. In two or three years a laborer could save out of his wages enough money to buy cattle and make a start on a modest scale as a landowner. … The land had to be cleared rapidly and hired labor was needed to fell the heavy jungle. In these circumstances newly reclaimed land did not pay the cost of cultivation, and there was a general demand for capital. Burmans, however, lacked the necessary funds, and had no access to capital. They did not know English or English banking methods, and English bankers knew nothing of Burmans or cultivation. … in the ports there were Indian moneylenders of the chettyar caste, amply provided with capital and long accustomed to dealing with European banks in India. About 1880 they began to send out agents into the villages, and supplied the people with all the necessary capital, usually at reasonable rates and, with some qualifications, on sound business principles. … now the chettyars readily supplied the cultivators with all the money that they needed, and with more than all they needed. On business principles the money lender preferred large transactions, and would advance not merely what the cultivator might require but as much as the security would stand. Naturally, the cultivator took all that he could get, and spent the surplus on imported goods. The working of economic forces pressed money on the cultivator; to his own discomfiture, but to the profit of the moneylenders, of European exporters who could ensure supplies by giving out advances, of European importers whose cotton goods and other wares the cultivator could purchase with the surplus of his borrowings, and of the banks which financed the whole economic structure. But at the first reverse, with any failure of the crop, the death of cattle, the illness of the cultivator, or a fall of prices, due either to fluctuations in world prices or to manipulation of the market by the merchants, the cultivator was sold up, and the land passed to the moneylender, who found some other thrifty laborer to take it, leaving part of the purchase price on mortgage, and with two or three years the process was repeated. … As time went on, the purchasers came more and more to be men who looked to making a livelihood from rent, or who wished to make certain of supplies of paddy for their business. … Others also, merchants and shopkeepers, bought land, because they had no other investment for their profits. These trading classes were mainly townsfolk, and for the most part Indians or Chinese. Thus, there was a steady growth of absentee ownership, with the land passing into the hands of foreigners. Usually, however, as soon as one cultivator went bankrupt, his land was taken over by another cultivator, who in turn lost with two or three years his land and cattle and all that he had saved. [By the 1930s] it appeared that practically half the land in Lower Burma was owned by absentees, and in the chief rice-producing districts from two-thirds to nearly three-quarters. … The policy of conserving a peasant proprietary was of no avail against the hard reality of economic forces…

If she didn’t go, she’d wonder

what technology could account for a living, breathing, bulletproof wolf, a beast that seemingly disappeared in midstride but left behind a chunk of its decaying flesh? What military or intelligence program can pull off a trick like that? What invisible soldier repeatedly slipped into Ellen Gorman’s locked bathroom (see page 239) and removed her towel and hairbrush? What Delta Force commando infiltrated her kitchen and unpacked her groceries from the cabinets? How many covert operatives did it take to surreptitiously invade the Gorman home for the purpose of taking the spatula out of the frying pan so that it could be hidden in the freezer? Which tough-as-nails marine was assigned the vital but routine task of switching the salt into the pepper shaker and the pepper into the salt shaker? To put it mildly, it’s a bit of a stretch.

But here is a truth of Warriordom. Pain makes the Warrior stronger, not weaker. It is the anvil on which all true Warriors are forged, whether it is the muscle burn, sleep deprivation, and cold of Hell Week, the Marine Corps crucible, Ranger training, Delta Force selection—or the kind of life-and-death struggle in which I was now engaged. The ordinary person gets hurt—and he retreats to deal with his pain. The Warrior takes in all that pain, all that hurt, all that agony, and metamorphoses it, transmogrifies it, channels it, into pure, unadulterated, kinetic strength, electric energy, and pure will to win.

The ultimate goal of this book is to share what I consider to be life-saving and life-changing lessons that I was fortunate enough to learn as a key participant in many of recent history’s most impactful events. The single most important lesson I learned, and the plain but powerful foundation that supports the entire book, is that the most effective weapon on any battlefield—whether it be combat, business, or life—is our mind’s ability to recognize life’s underlying patterns. Patterns of thinking, patterns of nature, and patterns of history are just a few of the infinite examples of life’s underlying patterns that inform the behavior of the complex world that swirls around us. Patterns reveal how the real world works. When recognized, they allow us to understand, adapt, and master the future as it unfolds in front of us.

Thanks to superior organization, the Egyptian armed forces scored a dual victory, on land and sea, over that second alliance. The fleet of the “Peoples of the North” was entirely destroyed and the invasion route through the Delta was cut. At the same time a third coalition of the same white-skinned Indo-Aryans was being assembled, again in Libya, against the Black Egyptian nation. Yet, this was not a racial conflict in the modern sense. To be sure, the two hostile groups were fully conscious of their ethnic and racial differences, but it was much more a question of the great movement of disinherited peoples of the north toward richer and more advanced countries. Ramses III demolished that third coalition as he had destroyed the first two.... As a result of this third victory over the Indo-Aryans, he took an exceptional number of prisoners.

Undaunted Courage by Stephen Ambrose;

At the core of the new command was Delta (full name: 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta), which the Army had formed under Beckwith’s leadership in 1977 in response to the rising number of international terrorist incidents. Unlike Israel, West Germany, and the United Kingdom, the United States had no specialized force to handle such episodes until Delta’s creation.

Men dream of starting over. Not even necessarily with another woman. They dream of a clean slate, of disappearing, of walking off a plane on a layover and making a new life for themselves in a strange city--Grand Rapids say, or Nashville. They dream of an apartment all of their own, of silence, of joining Delta Force and fighting in Iraq, of introducing themselves by the nickname they'd always wished they had. Of a time and place where they can use everything they know now that they hadn't known then--that is, before they were married. And then they might be happy.

If it was true, it didn’t matter if it was SEALs, Delta, or Special Forces. They were teammates in the same fight.

Les longues nuits semblaient ne s'écarter qu'à regret de la ville, pour quelques heures. Une grise lumière d'aube ou de crépuscule filtrant à travers le plafond de nuées d'un blanc sale se répandait alors sur les choses comme le reflet appauvri d'un lointain glacier. La neige même, qui continuait à tomber, était sans lumière. Cet ensevelissement blanc, léger et silencieux s'étendait à l'infini dans l'espace et le temps. Il fallait déjà allumer les veilleuses vers trois heures. Le soir épaississait sur la neige des tons de cendre, des bleus opaques, des gris tenaces de vieilles pierres. La nuit s'imposait, inexorable et calmante : irréelle. Le delta reprenait dans ces ténèbres sa configuration géographique. De noires falaises de pierre, cassées en angles droits, bordaient les canaux figés. Une sorte de phosphorescence sombre émanait du large fleuve de glace. Parfois les vents du nord, venus du Spitzberg et de plus loin encore, du Groenland peut-être, peut-être du pôle par l'Océan arctique, la Norvège, la mer Blanche, poussaient leurs rafales sur l'estuaire morne de la Neva. Le froid mordait tout à coup le granit, les lourdes brumes venues du sud par la Baltique s'évanouissaient tout à coup et les pierres, la terre, les arbres dénudés se couvraient instantanément de cristaux de givre dont chacun était une merveille à peine visible, faite de nombres, de lignes de force et de blancheur. La nuit changeait de face, dépouillant ses voiles d'irréalité. L'étoile polaire apparaissait, les constellations ouvraient l'immensité du monde. Le lendemain, les cavaliers de bronze sur leurs socles de pierre, couverts d'une poudre d'argent, semblaient sortir d'une étrange fête ; les hautes colonnes de granit de la cathédrale Saint-Isaac, son fronton peuplé de saints et jusqu'à sa massive coupole dorée, tout était givré. Les façades et les quais de granit rouge prenaient, sous ce revêtement magnifique, des teintes de cendre rose et blanche. Les jardins, avec les filigranes purs de leurs ■ branchages, paraissaient enchantés. Cette fantasmagorie ravissait les yeux des gens sortis de leurs demeures étouffantes ainsi qu'il y a des millénaires, les hommes vêtus de fourrures sortaient peureusement l'hiver des chaudes cavernes pleines d'une bonne puanteur animale. Pas une lumière dans des quartiers entiers. Des ténèbres préhistoriques.

Jon Stone was more Joe’s friend than mine, though ‘friend’ probably wasn’t the right word. Jon was a private military contractor, which meant he was a mercenary. He was also a Princeton graduate and a former Delta Force operator. His primary client was the Department of Defense. Same boss, different pay grade. Pike

The Battle of Mogadishu on October 3, 1993, was part of Operation Restore Hope. We remember it now as “Black Hawk Down” from the novel (and subsequent film) of that name by an on-the-scene journalist, Mark Bowden. Army Rangers paid a heavy price for not looking “too intimidating” or “like invaders,” valiantly fighting while stripped of the equipment they requested. Had the administration not ignorantly meddled with events, the 160 Special Forces operators of Army Rangers and Delta wouldn’t have taken so many casualties. And here is what the Clinton Machine didn’t comprehend: Our guys wouldn’t have had to inflict as many casualties either, shooting their way out against 4,000–6,000 Somalis with an entire city of civilians trapped in the crossfire. The Rangers became a legend that day but lost eighteen fine men and suffered seventy-three wounded.

I am a nomad, son of an ancient line of nomads. The larger part of my family line is made up of the Scots-Irish, a people descended from that peculiar mixture of the Celts of the northern British Isles and the invading Danes and Norsemen. The result was a landless, illiterate, anarchic, and warlike people who were always difficult, if not downright impossible, to govern. They were a race the British Crown rightfully viewed as dangerous rebels,

a real treat: we went out to the

the onetime Delta Force commander Dalton Fury

What did I receive from this lineage? Things I consider to be very valuable: a good raw intellect and a good tough body. A sense of independence and a realization that wherever I am is my home. A sense of humor. A sense of personal honor that results in a touchiness common to our people. We are easily offended and prone to violence when offended. When the only thing you own is your sense of honor, you tend to protect it at all costs.

of Talent, author Dan Coyle emphasizes his belief that

It was easier to think of being shot than of shooting a mate.

2014    Raid in Northern Syria In an attempt to find kidnapped journalist James Foiley as well as other American hostages, Delta Forces operators were inserted into northern Syria on 04 July 2014. Per information from witnesses, after tearing down anti-aircraft weapons, the Delta Forces operators attacked an ISIS base.  The ISIS base was torn down and all ISIS soldiers were killed at the cost of an American who sustained wounds during the operations. The operation was a failure since no hostages were found.

2014    Capture of Ahmed Abu Kahattala The Delta Force captured Ahmed Abu Kahattala on the weekend of 14 to 15 June 2014. The Delta Forces operators worked with contingent elite Intelligence Support Activity Operators who managed to track Ahmed Abu Khattala. The FBI agents made the arrest during this mission.

Delta Force Operator Captain Brian “Hutch” Hutchinson hated group therapy almost as much as he hated the mind-warping meds.

How did you end up in all this? Working for Rubicon, I mean?’ She shot him a look, and he wondered if he had touched on a sore point. Lucy guided the Land Rover past a sluggish tanker truck and set her gaze on the view through the grimy windshield. ‘It’s no big deal,’ she said, at length. ‘I was Army green for a good while. No job for a lady, so my mom used to say. But I got a good eye, and I like guns. Delta was recruiting for Foxtrot Troop, so I opted in. Stayed for a tour.’ ‘I thought that was a myth,’ said Marc. ‘About Delta Force having an all-female squad . . .’ ‘Sure it is,’ Lucy replied evenly. ‘Just like it’s not true that British Intelligence has its own covert strike teams.’ ‘Fair point,’ he allowed. ‘Uncle Sam may be old-fashioned, but he ain’t stupid. Sometimes girls can get where boys can’t

Benoit began life in the year 1889, with the coming of the Yazoo and Mississippi Valley Railroad. There was never any plan to run track through the plantations south of Rosedale, but James Richardson, the largest individual cotton grower in the world at that time, offered the railroad free use of his land if, in turn, the company built him a station. James was the eldest son of Edmund Richardson, a planter whose holdings at one time included banks, steamboats, and railroads. He owned three-dozen cotton plantations and had a controlling interest in Mississippi Mills, the largest textile plant in the Lower South. His New Orleans-based brokerage house, Richardson and May, handled more than 250,000 bales of cotton every year. Edmund Richardson was not always so prosperous. By the end of the Civil War, he had lost almost his entire net worth, close to $1 million. So in 1868, Richardson struck a deal with the federal authorities in Mississippi to contract labor from the state penitentiary, which was overflowing with ex-slaves, and work the men outside prison walls. He promised to feed and clothe the prisoners, and in return, the government agreed to pay him $18,000 a year for their maintenance. The contract struck between Richardson and the State of Mississippi began an era of convict leasing that would spread throughout the South. Before it was over, a generation of black prisoners would suffer and die under conditions that were in many cases worse than anything they had ever experienced as slaves. Confining his laborers to primitive camps, Richardson forced the convicts to clear hundreds of acres of dense woodland throughout the Yazoo Delta. When the land was cleared, he put prisoners to work raising and picking cotton on the plowed gound. Through this new system, Richardson regained his fortune. By 1880 he had built a mansion in New Orleans, another in Jackson, and a sprawling plantation house known as Refuge in the Yazoo Delta. When he died in 1886, he left his holdings to his eldest son, James. As an inveterate gambler and drunk, James decided to spend his inheritance building a new town, developed solely as a center for sport. He bought racehorses and designed a racetrack. He built five brick stores and four homes. In 1889, when the station stop was finally completed for his new city, James told the railroad to call the town Benoit, after the family auditor. James’s sudden death in 1898 put an end to his ambitions for the town. But decades later, a Richardson Street still ran through Benoit, westward toward the river, in crumbling tribute to the man.

After the United States entered World War I, Southern landowners had a new means of ensuring their laborers remained on plantations—the threat of the draft. In the summer of 1918 the army’s provost marshal, General Enoch Crowder, issued a “Work or Fight” order to all local exemption boards, allowing them to draft men who were not engaged in employment. Crowder’s order essentially federalized the local vagrancy laws that were already pervasive throughout the South. It was now up to the small-town sheriff, mayor, constable, and justice of the peace to identify “vagrants” and turn them in to the local exemption board to be shipped off to war. In the Delta, local defense councils adopted an identification system that required all blacks to carry a card listing their place of employment. The defense council requested national support in forcing “our negro labor to stay on the job six days in the week or they will be inducted into service.

...during my year of public humiliation, I reflected on the unfairness of it all. But then I thought about Bill Garrison, who has a homespun saying on fairness that reflects his Texas outlook on life: “If you think the world will treat you fairly because you’re a nice person, then you probably think a bull won’t charge you because you are a vegetarian.

On September 11, 2001, there were no more than a few hundred al Qaeda members hiding out in Afghanistan. Three months later, when the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) paramilitaries, U.S. Army Delta Force and U.S. Air Force finished bombing them, and Osama bin Laden had escaped to Pakistan, there were not enough of the terrorists left alive to fill a 757. Now, 20 years after that brief, one-sided victory, there are tens of thousands of bin Ladenite jihadists thriving in lands from Nigeria to the Philippines. Recently, and for almost three years, some even claimed their own divinely ordained caliphate, or Islamic State, temporarily erasing the border between Iraq and Syria. Local chapters of their group keep popping up all over the region. The State Department consistently reports a vast increase in the number of global terrorism incidents compared to the pre-September 11th era. Al Qaeda, the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria (ISIS) and their “lone wolf” copycats have carried out multiple, deadly attacks in more than a dozen major Western cities in the past decade, including Brussels, Paris, Berlin, London, San Bernardino, Orlando, New York City, Pensacola and Corpus Christi. Something must be wrong. The problem is that our government is ignoring and misrepresenting the real causes of the terrorists’ war against the United States.

Pulling back long enough to mumble, “Hey, sweetheart,” he put his hand on her back, pressing her harder against him. He didn’t give her a chance to respond. Taking her mouth again, Hollywood swore he heard birds singing and bells ringing. It was ridiculous, but nothing in his entire life felt as good as Kassie’s lips and tongue moving under his own.

There have been three major slave revolts in human history. The first, led by the Thracian gladiator Spartacus against the Romans, occurred in 73 BC. The third was in the 1790s when the great black revolutionary Touissant L'Ouverture and his slave army wrested control of Santo Domingo from the French, only to be defeated by Napoleon in 1802. But the second fell halfway between these two, in the middle of the 9th century AD, and is less documented than either. We do know that the insurgents were black; that the Muslim 'Abbasid caliphs of Iraq had brought them from East Africa to work, in the thousands, in the salt marshes of the delta of the Tigris. These black rebels beat back the Arabs for nearly ten years. Like the escaped maroons in Brazil centuries later, they set up their own strongholds in the marshland. They seemed unconquerable and they were not, in fact, crushed by the Muslims until 883. They were known as the Zanj, and they bequeathed their name to the island of Zanzibar in the East Africa - which, by no coincidence, would become and remain the market center for slaves in the Arab world until the last quarter of the 19th century. The revolt of the Zanj eleven hundred years ago should remind us of the utter falsity of the now fashionable line of argument which tries to suggest that the enslavement of African blacks was the invention of European whites. It is true that slavery had been written into the basis of the classical world; Periclean Athens was a slave state, and so was Augustan Rome. Most of their slaves were Caucasian whites, and "In antiquity, bondage had nothing to do with physiognomy or skin color". The word "slave" meant a person of Slavic origin. By the 13th century it spread to other Caucasian peoples subjugated by armies from central Asia: Russians, Georgians, Circassians, Albanians, Armenians, all of whom found ready buyers from Venice to Sicily to Barcelona, and throughout the Muslim world. But the African slave trade as such, the black traffic, was a Muslim invention, developed by Arab traders with the enthusiastic collaboration of black African ones, institutionalized with the most unrelenting brutality centuries before the white man appeared on the African continent, and continuing long after the slave market in North America was finally crushed. Historically, this traffic between the Mediterranean and sub-Saharan Africa begins with the very civilization that Afrocentrists are so anxious to claim as black - ancient Egypt. African slavery was well in force long before that: but by the first millennium BC Pharaoh Rameses II boasts of providing the temples with more than 100,000 slaves, and indeed it is inconceivable that the monumental culture of Egypt could have been raised outside a slave economy. For the next two thousand years the basic economies of sub-Saharan Africa would be tied into the catching, use and sale of slaves. The sculptures of medieval life show slaves bound and gagged for sacrifice, and the first Portuguese explorers of Africa around 1480 found a large slave trade set up from the Congo to Benin. There were large slave plantations in the Mali empire in the 13th-14th centuries and every abuse and cruelty visited on slaves in the antebellum South, including the practice of breeding children for sale like cattle, was practised by the black rulers of those towns which the Afrocentrists now hold up as sanitized examples of high civilization, such as Timbuktu and Songhay.

GB officers constituted the main force at Stone and were selected from among the baddest-ass military units—SEALs, Marine Force Recon, Air Force Parajumpers, and the Army’s Combat Applications Group (formerly know as Delta Force). They wore civilian clothes and were equipped with the most advanced light weaponry on the planet.3