Book excerpt: "Selfish Prayer"

(CBS News) In 2009, Afghan insurgents ambushed a company of Afghan National Army troops, U.S. Marines and Army soldiers who had assembled for a meeting with village elders in Ganjgal, in Kunar Province near the Pakistan border. In a lengthy battle five Americans, 10 Afghan army troops and an interpreter were killed.

The events of that day would be investigated by SSG Emmett William Spraktes, author of the book, "Selfish Prayer." It recounts the actions of Army Captain William Swenson, an embedded trainer who this week received the Medal of Honor for risking his life in the battle to recover bodies and help save fellow troops.

The following is an excerpt from Spraktes' "Selfish Prayer," reprinted with permission.

A hero's tale
Medal of Honor recipient asks to return to active duty
William Swenson, Afghan war veteran, awarded Medal of Honor by President Obama

Ambush at Ganjgal

"The best thing you can do is the right thing. The next best thing you can do is something. The worst thing you can do is nothing."
-- Theodore Roosevelt

"Highlander 5 gave the clearest sense of urgency, had coordinated the first rescue and in the absence of air support, risked his life to rescue the ANA soldiers those Marines had died defending. Fox 31 and Fox 33 were on the radio but very emotional, though who could blame them? Their fellow Marines were being cut down and begging for help. As cold as this may sound, I had no choice but to ignore 31 and 33 in order to focus on the one player on the ground who seemed to have a grasp on this insane situation, Highlander 5."
-- CW2 Jason Penrod

Kunar Province
8 September 2009

It had been a long and arduous summer. We had just one month left in theater. We were worn out, yet the fighting continued. It seemed the Taliban wanted to spill as much blood as they could before the cold weather returned. On September 8, it seemed the entire country was battling.

Barge Matal was still raging. We'd been there dozens of times, even after the election. The violence continued about seventy-five days straight, and we'd lost many soldiers there. But President Karzai had asked if we could take back Barge Matal to allow the election to take place, and our commanders obliged. This meant that COP Keating would have to stay put for the time being. To get supplies to Barge Matal, we had to have COP Keating in place. The Apaches were up there often -- they were the only gunships that could fly in that altitude. The Chinooks were going back and forth up there as well, taking in supplies.

There was also a full air assault going on in the Shuriak Valley. Many of Task Force PaleHorse assets were engaged there. We suffered casualties in that battle, two of them our own PaleHorse element.

Then there was Ganjgal, a small village located east across the valley from Asadabad. The ground was scarred with long-abandoned agricultural terraces separated by a dry wash. The elders of the village had invited ANA representatives and American advisors to participate in what was called a key leader engagement. There were Marines, ANA soldiers, and a couple army soldiers who met with the local village elders. But as the meeting started, insurgents imbedded within the village opened fire and cut them to pieces. It was an ambush! Our men scattered for cover, and a several-hour battle began.

DUSTOFF 25 had already launched from Asadabad. The team on board was CW2 Jason Penrod, LT Marco Azevedo, CPT Doc Kavanagh, SGT Marc Dragony, and SGT Kevin Duerst. They were on standby for another operation in the Shuriak Valley but then were redirected to Ganjgal when it went bad. By the time DUSTOFF arrived, there were two Kiowa 58s already on station.

After getting an update from the lead 58 pilot, the DUSTOFF crew realized the Marines and ANA were caught in the open. Listening to radio traffic, Penrod heard Highlander 5 demanding the 58s shoot at the village so they could escape the kill zone. The pilot refused and asked where the fire was heaviest. He seemed unimpressed with the critical nature of the situation, almost like he was engaged in a different fight.

Highlander 5 screamed back over the radio, "From the village! Shoot the village!" Again, the lead pilot refused, because of the rules of engagement -- gunships were not allowed to shoot into the village.

While circling above the fight to the west, DUSTOFF 25 saw how dire the situation was. The enemy had gone to great lengths to set up the ultimate ambush. Our Marines and ANA were out in the open without any cover. The insurgents held all the high ground south, north, and east. The only way out was the open dry wash, though it afforded no protection.

While Penrod attempted to locate the casualties through the 58 pilot, it became clear to him that the entire area was blanketed with small-arms, machine-gun and RPG fire. An occasional smoke trail disappeared into the rising dust from machine-gun rounds impacting the ground. Watching from afar and listening to these guys die was not where Penrod and the crew wanted to be.

As Penrod listened to the radio traffic on the ground, he was able to identify one key player in the rescue team. It was Army Captain William Swenson. He and Penrod connected via radio. Swenson explained he had a soldier shot in the neck who was bleeding to death, and his position was on the southwestern edge of where the rounds were impacting the terraces.

Flying over, Penrod determined the terraces might be tall enough to hide the body of the helicopter. After a brief conversation, the crew decided to go in. Penrod's plan was to nose the aircraft over, increase their airspeed, and fly up the wash twenty to thirty feet off the ground. He did just that.

As they arrived at Swenson's location, it was impossible to find him as they were blending in behind the terrace walls, taking cover. About that time, the insurgents began to direct their attention toward DUSTOFF, so it was time to get the aircraft out of the kill zone. As they flew back down the wash, Penrod asked Swenson if he had a panel marker. He did. Penrod instructed him to pull it out, lie on his back and point it toward the helicopter as they made another attempt.

Penrod turned the aircraft back up the wash and accelerated. Their previous pass was low enough that it kicked up the fine dust in the wash. Afghan dust is like talcum powder, and it made a less-than-adequate smoke screen. "What the hell," Penrod thought. "We'll take what we can get at this point."

As DUSTOFF approached the LZ, Penrod and Duerst could see Swenson lying on the ground with the panel. Penrod rolled the aircraft in and made a quick approach to the terrace, tucking the aircraft up against the wall. It was just tall enough.

This was when Penrod and Swenson had their first face-to-face meeting. He was dressed in nothing more than his uniform; he wasn't wearing his helmet, or visible body armor. [Although not visible to Penrod at the time, Swenson wore a plate carrier for body armor.] After giving a short report to the medics, he hesitated at the door and peeked around the front of the aircraft back toward where the rounds were coming from.

With a quick nod to each other, Acevedo and Penrod came to a painful realization.

Swenson was using the aircraft for cover.

Marco shouted, "What the ****?!"

Penrod responded. "Think small, brother."

Duerst exited the helicopter, M-4 in hand to provide cover. Swenson jogged back to the group, who had just lifted a wounded soldier onto the terrace. Dragony joined them, and both helped the soldier to his feet. They each took a side, and all three limped to the helicopter where they set him in the aircraft.

As the soldier, SFC Kenneth Westbrook, sat for a moment, he and Swenson exchanged a few words. It was a poignant moment -- these two were friends. Swenson leaned in and kissed Westbrook on the temple, patted his head, and then jumped back down off the terrace, not looking back.

Duerst reentered, and Dragony slammed the door. Time to leave.

"Let's get the hell outta here!" yelled Dragony and Duerst. Penrod lifted the aircraft from the terrace, accelerating simultaneously. They later described the view outside as though they were taking off from a Super Bowl stadium. Muzzle flashes looked like hundreds of cameras going off. Dragony emptied two magazines out the side with his M-4.

While Marc returned fire, Duerst stuck his fingers into Westbrook's neck to stop the bleeding, and Doc assessed the patient. He was dressed like a Special Forces operator and unshaven. He had a gunshot wound that tracked from his neck down into his chest, just beneath the clavicle, where two large blood vessels were located. He was struggling to breathe; his blood pressure was low, and his heart rate was elevated. Doc decompressed his chest just as they touched ground at Asadabad.

When they arrived at Abad, the FLA wasn't there. After several radio calls, Duerst went on the hunt for some help. He jogged toward the FST, spotting a Gator -- a small Polaris-type vehicle. He quickly checked in with the soldier assigned to the flight line, who grabbed the keys. They both jumped in the Gator, jetting it to the helicopter. Doc and Dragony loaded the patient into the back of the Gator, and the flight-line soldier rushed them all to the trauma bay. When they arrived, it became obvious why they weren't met at the pad. The FST was completely overwhelmed with patients.

After their turnover report, Doc and Dragony jogged back and boarded. While they were gone, 58s had met and flown to Abad after going Winchester, rearmed, and then all aircrafts returned to the fight.

Things had gotten much worse. The Marines and their ANA counterparts were dying. The crew listened to two Marines die on the radio begging for help.

Penrod couldn't stand it. The 58s were of little help, and DUSTOFF couldn't get to them. It was time to stop screwing around and get the Apaches on station.

He had Duerst send a message to the TOC and told them to launch Blue Max. In response, the TOC asked the 58s if they needed Apaches. They replied emphatically they did not. Frustrated, Penrod had Duerst resend the message. PaleHorse TOC inquired a second time. The lead 58 pilot became irritated and wanted to know who was asking, assuming it was the ground guys. They told him it was Penrod. He quickly directed his frustration at Penrod. "I don't need Apaches! This is MY fight!"

Time to pull rank.

"I'm the air mission commander (AMC), and I want the Apaches here. You're ineffective, and these guys are dying!"

Then Penrod had Duerst send a third message to the TOC and made it more explicit. "I'm the AMC. I want Apaches here right ******* now!"

A second 58 team was on its way to the Shuriak Valley and were directed by TOC to learn what was going on. They asked the lead 58 pilot on station via radio if he needed help. He quickly got his answer. "I don't need your help! Stay outta my fight!"

Surprised by the angry response, the second 58 pilot replied, "Whoa! Hey, man, I was just told to ask."

That was the end of the conversation, and the second 58 team kept to its previous course.

PaleHorse TOC again inquired with the lead 58 if he was sure Apaches were not needed. He again angrily replied he didn't need them. TOC responded that DUSTOFF was adamant about Apaches responding. There was no answer from the 58.

PaleHorse TOC came back on and asked Penrod why he wanted Apaches. Penrod replied, "These Marines are dying out here and the 58s aren't effective. These guys are in an ambush and taking fire from every direction but the west. I want Apaches and I want 'em now!"

The PaleHorse TOC conversation took place over SatCom, which means everyone on the aviation frequency in country heard it. One of those sets of ears was in Thunder TOC, our parent command Combat Aviation Brigade (CAB) headquarters in Bagram. During the pause generated by Penrod's emphatic request, the radio operator in Thunder TOC interjected, "PaleHorse TOC, Thunder TOC."

The reply by the PaleHorse TOC radio operator was to standby. This wasn't well received and quickly drew the ire of Colonel Lewis, the CAB commander, "PaleHorse TOC, Thunder Six." This was Colonel Lewis's call sign as Task Force Thunder commander.

The Apaches were now on their way.

After getting the Apache issue resolved, the crew's attention was brought back to the fight. In the meantime, Swenson had decided to take matters into his own hands. He drove a small pickup truck into the kill zone and attempted to rescue the Marines and ANA who were trapped and wounded. At that point it was unclear just how many he'd rescued, but it was blatantly obvious that he'd gotten himself into real trouble. The pickup was so badly damaged from small-arms fire, it was no longer moveable. He was trapped in the kill zone with the wounded he'd rescued.

Swenson's calls for help were more than Penrod and Acevedo could stand. They decided to attempt another run up the wide-open valley to rescue the wounded, even though they were further up and well within the reach of the highly effective small-arms and RPG fire.

In what was to be DUSTOFF's final turn before the dive, Kavanagh saw two aircraft flying down the Konar Valley and thought they appeared to be Apaches. Penrod knew it couldn't be those coming from Jbad, but it wasn't uncommon to have other Apaches from Bagram in the area.

"What the hell," Penrod decided. "Let's try and reach 'em."

Marco called over the Apache radio frequency, but there was no response. The common air-to-ground frequency was no better. As a last resort, Penrod gave a call over the air to air frequency, and they quickly got a response from Pedro, the US Air Force Pavehawks. These guys weren't Apaches, but they had fifty-caliber machine guns and mini-guns. Penrod was ready for some well-directed crew-served weapons, given the fact that our 58 support was inadequate. He gave them a brief synopsis of the situation, and they decided to drop their patients at Abad and come help.

Given how grave Swenson's position was, the DUSTOFF crew decided it was too long to wait for the Pavehawks to get on station. Talking directly to Swenson, they were able to determine he was quite a bit further up the wash and very exposed. Penrod made the same dive as he had earlier, a fast and low flight up the wash toward the rising dust of where they believed his truck had made its last stand. There he was, tucked into a smaller tributary wash, with several bodies in the back, along with two ANP pickups that had made it to his location. A hard right, a decelerating turn, and they were on the ground, just feet from the vehicles.

The ground guys and the DUSTOFF crew wasted no time in loading as many patients as possible -- five patients, all ANA, no Marines. It was time to leave, but the Pavehawks were still not on station. They couldn't go back to Abad with these patients; the FST was already overloaded. They had to go to Jbad. As Penrod accelerated down the wash, Pedro checked in. As they tried to reach DUSTOFF, the 58 pilot interjected, "No need. They're all dead."

Penrod was done with this guy. He broke onto the radio and told Pedro to disregard the 58 pilot and listen only to DUSTOFF 25. He explained where the vehicles and patients could be found and that several remained. The Pedro pilot was unclear of where they were, so Penrod made the decision to delay their return to Jbad and link up with him to take another run into the fire. With the Pavehawk in tow, they made another low and fast run up the valley. As they neared the vehicles, Penrod explained to the Pedro pilot he would break hard right over the location, as they were in a hurry to get the patients to the FST. Pedro landed and quickly stated they couldn't find any patients. The 58 pilot came on the radio and scolded, "See, they're all dead." The Pedro pilot summarily dismissed the 58 pilot and stated, "DUSTOFF 25, we've got 'em. A lot of patients here."

DUSTOFF stayed as long as they could and then quickly departed toward Jbad. About halfway there, they saw the Apaches headed up toward Ganjgal. But it was too late.

The Aftermath

No Marines were rescued from the ambush in Ganjgal. We later learned they stayed behind in the wash returning fire to ensure the others could escape. Their radio calls for fire support and rescue were the last words anyone would hear from them. Those pleas for help have kept Jason Penrod awake many nights wondering if they should've done more. Should he have gone in after them while they were still alive?

Jason has heard all the justifications as to why they shouldn't have -- the state of Swenson's pickup as the strongest argument against such an attempt. They probably would've become, as LTC Jimmy Blackmon says, "the main effort." This was something he never wanted to be.

Jason Penrod has contemplated all of the rationalization and the risks that justify not even doing what they did. But this does little to drown out the voices of those Marines. They continued to resonate long after the battle was over. The fallout of the ambush at Ganjgal was huge. There have been several different accounts of what happened that day, and several explanations. When the dust settled, three Marines and one Navy corpsman lost their lives in Ganjgal, as well as nine ANA soldiers.

The gunshot victim picked up by DUSTOFF, SFC Kenneth Westbrook, was rushed into surgery at the FOB. The surgeons repaired the vascular injury at the FST and placed a chest tube. He made it back to the United States but tragically suffered a fatal reaction to a blood transfusion believed given in Asadabad. He was the fifth American to die in the Ganjgal ambush.

* * *

Marc Dragony was absolutely livid about what happened in Ganjgal. We had bonded with the 58 guys and were indoctrinated into the Cavalry culture, even calling each other family. But after the 58 pilot declared the battle "his fight" and refused any additional air support, Dragony took off his Stetson and abandoned it in Jalalabad. He had lost all respect and didn't want to be associated with them. Years later, Dragony regretted leaving the Stetson and painting such a broad picture of the Cav. He is, however, still angry about the actions of that day.

Marc had suffered. He recounted to me how he was in Diego Garcia on his way back to the States from the war. He was in that beautiful paradise when he learned that SFC Westbrook had died from that damn transfusion. He struggles with this. To this day, Marc wears a bracelet with Westbrook's name engraved on it.

* * *

Marine Dakota Meyer, who was also engaged in the fight this day, was awarded the Medal of Honor for his actions. Other members of ETT 2-8 were awarded Bronze Star with V medals. Two other Marines, SSG Juan Rodriguez-Chavez and CPT Ademola Fabayo, were awarded the Navy Cross.

After years of indifference, Westbrook was posthumously awarded a Silver Star on April 19, 2013. Army Captain William Swenson was nominated for the Medal of Honor, but after his public criticism of the US Army, his paperwork was claimed to be lost.

Northern California

Spring 2013

When I interviewed the men who were on this call, it became apparent to me that Ganjgal has lived on in the nightmares of all of them. In their eyes, it wasn't only controversial; cries for help were not responded to, and people died. For Medevac, this was devastating.

As the story unfolded, I decided that I would try to help my friends heal by creating a critical incident debrief [A law enforcement term for a group discussion after a traumatic event ] (three and a half years later). I invited all of those who were on the helicopter with Westbrook, and his close friend and Afghanistan comrade, CPT Will Swenson. Though Marco was deployed in Kosovo and Doc couldn't get away from his residency, Dragony, Duerst and Penrod were able to come. It was time to get some closure.

I set up a tour at the CHP academy with Chief Newman and Victoria to break the ice. We then headed for my home for barbecued ribs and drinks.

We talked about what occurred that day. Captain Swenson joined in, giving clarity but more importantly, his thanks. He thanked the guys for coming when others did not. This meant a lot to them.

Penrod and Duerst didn't know exactly who Swenson was. They did not recognize him as the one they talked with on the radio or the one who placed Westbrook on the aircraft. There were assumptions made, and not everything made sense.

Immediately after landing in Jbad, Penrod wrote his sworn statement. He primarily wanted to capture the epic failure of what occurred that day but also to ensure that Highlander 5 received our nation's highest award, the Medal of Honor. As the pilot who had a front row, overhead seat to this tragedy and the resulting act of heroism, it was beyond any reasonable doubt that Highlander 5 embodied the values of such an award. However, Penrod later learned his sworn statements were never included.

Penrod and Swenson had a frank discussion about Ganjgal. Jason needed some critical items verified. One of the most significant was if the Marines and corpsman who stayed behind had in fact covered the ANA's attempted escape from the ambush, giving their lives in doing so. Swenson verified this and reiterated that because they had remained so close to the enemy, there was no way for Medevac to reach them without becoming casualties in the process. For Penrod, Dragony and Duerst, knowing there was nothing they could've done does ease some of the long-term burden, but it certainly doesn't silence the pleas for help in their minds.

There was one more detail. As Penrod and Swenson sat face to face, the fog of war began to clear. Until this moment the entire Medevac crew believed that Highlander 5 had already received the Medal of Honor, even though in all of the reports they read, the placement and types of vehicles and locations didn't jibe with their recollections.

Penrod remembered Highlander 5 at the first Medevac site in Ganjgal with the panel marker, a radio on his back with a long whip antenna, dark Oakley sunglasses, longer dark hair, and his face clean-shaven. At the time, Penrod wasn't sure who the man was, but assumed his identity. Three years later, he became unsure. He looked across the table at the long-haired, bearded man before him and demanded, "If it wasn't that dude, then who the **** was Highlander 5?!"

Swenson stared back with a shocked look and replied, "I'm Highlander 5."

For more info:

• "Selfish Prayer: How California National Guard DUSTOFF Changed the Face of Medevac amid Chaos, Carnage and Politics of War" by SSG Emmett William Spraktes with Victoria M. Newman (Createspace); Also available via Amazon and Barnes & Noble