The formation’s response was followed by an uncomfortable silence: Naturally nervous, the Ranger couldn’t remember the next phrase. Seconds passed, then a nearby sergeant seamlessly stepped in.
“My courtesy to superior officers, neatness of dress and care of equipment shall set the example for others to follow.”
Most of the audience never noticed, but to me the sergeant’s quick help for a fellow Ranger embodied the very creed he was leading.
By the fifth stanza the crowd’s responses were typically stronger. In seemingly practiced harmony, they stated the most important part of the creed.
“Energetically will I meet the enemies of my country. I shall defeat them on the field of battle, for I am better trained and will fight with all my might. ‘Surrender’ is not a Ranger word. I will never leave a fallen comrade to fall into the hands of the enemy, and under no circumstances will I ever embarrass my country.”
Then the final stanza.
“Readily will I display the intestinal fortitude required to fight on to the Ranger objective and complete the mission, though I be the lone survivor.”
The creed ended in crescendo: “Rangers lead the way.” Although it had a rhythmic quality, the Ranger Creed was neither a poem nor a mindless mantra chanted by masses. It was a promise, a solemn vow made by each Ranger to every other Ranger.
My relationships with senior NCOs had always been important to me, so I saved the final couple of hours that first day for a session with Mike Hall, the regimental command sergeant major. With almost twenty years in the regiment, Mike was an icon to Rangers, and although I knew and respected him, we still had to bond as a team. We talked that afternoon and into the evening, building a relationship that grew first into a partnership, then into a deep friendship. Annie quickly became close to Mike’s wife, Brenda, and when Brenda and Mike decided to renew their wedding vows under the Catholic faith, Annie and I attended, along with their son Jeff, as the only witnesses.
Early in our partnership, Mike and I decided to focus the regiment on just four priorities: marksmanship, physical conditioning, first aid, and small-unit battle drills. We’d obviously perform other tasks, but we prioritized and constantly reinforced high standards of mastery on what we called “the Big Four.” We’d never have the time to do everything we’d like, but we decided to do what we could do very well.
Marksmanship was an obvious priority. Lightly armed, often outnumbered, Rangers must be able to hit what they shoot at before the enemy can shoot them. Because we operated aggressively at night and new night-vision equipment enabled it, marksmanship was critical in the dark.
In war, especially of the modern era, the vast majority of deaths occur on the field, not in field hospitals, where skilled doctors and technology can offer high survival rates. While we had a dedicated cadre of combat medics, they accounted for a small percentage of the force. To ensure that everyone on the battlefield could provide immediate care, we trained each Ranger in the regiment as a first responder. A tenth of them received advanced training to be emergency medical technicians (EMTs). After the experience of Rangers in Mogadishu in 1993, it wasn’t difficult to convince the force that every Ranger must be able to save his buddy.
Mike Hall and I led the Rangers from 1997 to 1999 and never deviated from the Big Four. I’m glad we didn’t. Although at the time our nation was at peace, the Big Four would later save lives. During the first eight and a half years of the war on terror, the Rangers conducted more than eight thousand operations. Most were targeted raids, and many of them were under my command. In the course of these missions, thirty-two Rangers were killed, but none of them died in the field from wounds considered survivable; one Ranger with potentially survivable wounds died after being evacuated, because of complications from surgery. This 3 percent rate proved to be lower than some estimates for all American fatalities, wherein 24 percent of those with survivable injuries died.