The Lost Convoy

G'day.

I've been reading Black Hawk Down, a book about the Army Rangers, the Delta Force and their experiences in 1993 Mogadishu. It's the book the movie was based from. If you haven't read it and enjoy war stories, this is the one to read...just know that in some ways it is even more violent than the movie.
In the book (and movie), a convoy of Rangers and Delta operators are tasked to drive through the city of Mogadishu, Somalia to pick up some other troops that had to capture everyone inside a building deep in the heart of the city where anti-American sentiment was at is fiercest. This convoy was also tasked with rescuing the downed helos after they crashed. During the completion of this mission the Somalies built enormous roadblocks that caused the convoy to get temporarily lost. Imagine that. Lost in a firefight.
At first they had a relativley normal mission, but after a while it turned into a hellish firefight with over 1 million armed Somalies. One million. There were about 150 American soldiers. That's 6666.666 to one. Over 1300 Somalies died during the next day and a half, and 50% of this convoy were either killed, incapacitated or mutilated in terrifying and horrendous ways.
After finishing the documentary part of the book, my emtions were near drained. It's easy for me to place myself in the heart of the battle as a participant rather than observer. I was terrified when they were, happy when they were, and grieved when they were.
Then I started thinking about this lost convoy. Did you know some of those Rangers and Delta operators went into Mogadishu three times to rescue friends? Triple the odds - 19999.98 to one. One time three enemy grenades were dropped on a friendly position and all were duds. There were times that rounds tore clothing but never penetrated skin. Incredible.
The ultimate story is about two Delta snipers that begged to be put on the ground outside a downed BlackHawk so they could protect the injured aircrew. These men could see tens of thousands of angry citizens rushing toward the crash site to capture, maim and kill the crewmembers. The request was granted, and they went in. Before they went in, they knew that neither of them carried enough ammunition to fend off the crowd for long. Before they went in, both knew that any other help was not likely to come, at least for a very long time. Before they went in, they both knew they would probably die. But they went anyway.
When I read a story like this I feel so grateful for a God who knew, before he went in, what it would take for him to redeem me. And he went anyway.

Grace,

Danny