Lieutenant Michael P. Murphy was the assistant officer in charge of Alfa Platoon, SEAL Delivery Vehicle Team 1 deployed to Afghanistan in early 2005. On June 27, 2005, Murphy took part in Operation Red Wings as the leader of a special reconnaissance team. Their mission was to locate a high-level anti-coalition militia leader in the Hindu Kush mountain range east of Asadabad. With him were three fellow SEALs: Petty Officer 2nd Class Danny Dietz, Petty Officer 2nd Class Matthew Axelson and Petty Officer 2nd Class Marcus Luttrell. The following day, the four men were in a rugged, enemy-controlled area high in the mountains when they came across three goat herders, who they questioned and let go. It’s believed that those men sympathized with the enemy and reported the Americans to the Taliban. As a result, up to 40 enemy fighters swarmed the steep face of the mountain where Murphy and his team were located, and a massive firefight ensued.
All four SEALs were injured quickly, but they refused to give up the fight. Ignoring his own wounds, Murphy encouraged his men to stay strong and began calling for help to get them out of there. Likely because of the remote terrain, his calls were not going through. So, Murphy fought his way toward open territory to find a better position to transmit a call. Despite taking on direct enemy fire, Murphy managed to get in touch with backup forces to give them their location and ask for immediate support. At one point during the call, he was shot in the back and dropped the transmitter. But he picked it back up, finished the call and fired back at the enemy. Despite severe wounds, he then made his way back to cover with the other men.
In response to his rescue call, a MH-47 Chinook helicopter with eight more SEALs and eight Army special operators was sent in to extract the four men. However, as it got closer to the fight, it was hit with a rocket-propelled grenade and crashed, killing all 16 men onboard. Back on the ground, Murphy and the others continued to fight. Over the span of two hours, the men battled the incoming enemy across hills and over cliffs. Eventually, though, Murphy, Dietz and Axelson were killed.
A rocket-propelled grenade blasted Luttrell over a ridge and knocked him out. When he woke up, the seriously injured SEAL was able to evade the enemy and find some sympathetic locals who hid him in a nearby village for days. On July 2, 2005, U.S. forces were able to rescue him — all thanks to the call made by Lt. Murphy while taking enemy fire. The remains of Murphy, Dietz and Axelson were also recovered. Murphy is buried in Calverton National Cemetery in Calverton, New York, less than 20 minutes from his childhood home. The 2005 firefight was the single largest loss of life for Naval Special Warfare since World War II. The only solace that might have been gained from it was that, during the battle, the four men on the ground took out about 35 Taliban fighters. For Murphy’s selfless leadership and courage, he was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor. His parents received it on his behalf during a White House ceremony on Oct. 22, 2007. Murphy was the first person to fight in Afghanistan to be awarded the nation’s highest honor for valor.
This story has the heart prodding effect it does, not just because it is a story of men dying. It has that effect because it is a story of men living. Living for more than just themselves. It is the self-sacrifice and courage of Lt. Michael Murphy that draws that aching pain in your chest. This story is one worth honoring because it draws our eyes back to the greatest event of human self-sacrifice and courage that has ever taken place. That of Jesus Christ, dying for our sins on the cross. All good and true stories point back to the glory of the one, great, true story. The story of the sinless, perfect God-man laying down His life for imperfect sinners.
John 15:13 “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” Michael Murphy did just that. When time of testing came he cared more for his men and their families than he cared for his own life.
Marcus Luttrell, whose life was saved that day by the efforts of Lt. Murphy, later said of his compatriot, “Mikey was the best officer I ever knew, an iron-souled warrior of colossal and almost unbelievable courage in the face of the enemy.”
GK Chesterton once wrote this on courage: “Take the case of courage. No quality has ever so much addled the brains and tangled the definitions of merely rational sages. Courage is almost a contradiction in terms. It means a strong desire to live taking the form of a readiness to die. ‘He that will lose his life, the same shall save it,’ Matthew 16:25 – is not a piece of mysticism for saints and heroes. It is a piece of everyday advice for sailors or mountaineers. It might be printed in an Alpine guide or a drill book. This paradox is the whole principle of courage; even of quite earthly or brutal courage. A man cut off by the sea may save his life if he will risk it on the precipice.
He can only get away from death by continually stepping within an inch of it. A soldier surrounded by enemies, if he is to cut his way out, needs to combine a strong desire for living with a strange carelessness about dying.”
