Promotional Image for American Sniper, Warner Bros. Pictures

Another piece of the ‘American Sniper’ story you should know

I recently viewed the Clint Eastwood flick ‘American Sniper’ and though I liked it, it was a hard film to watch. My reason, one of the individuals in the film was a man I had met, Petty Officer Ryan Job SEALs. I had crossed paths with him and had come to know him.

In 2006 I was deployed to Ar Ramadi, Iraq in the Al Anbar Province. Admittedly, I was excited, a bit intimidated, but ready to be a part of the War that had already become a part of Marine Corps lore. Arriving to Ar Ramadi late in the evening with the rest of my fellow US Marine Advisors via the CH-53 workhorse helicopters and the CH-46 Chinook or ‘Frogs,’ we were greeted to an eerie silence. Within minutes of landing, the silence was broken as the outside perimeter of Camp Ramadi was lit with heavy machine gun fire and impacts of Rocket Propelled Grenade (RPG) rounds. The sky crisscrossed with tracers and ricochets off the berms and the T-shaped walls, that had became ubiquitous of the Iraq War. I was amazed to see the sky light up. As we hustled to the nearby bunkers, none entered as the ‘show’ was just too incredible to watch.

As a 1st Lieutenant, I was new to the scene and had no combat experience. I wasn’t even an Infantry Officer, but none of that mattered now, as we were Advisors to the Iraqi Infantry Battalions standing up across Iraq. President George Bush described the strategy of rebuilding the Iraqi Army “as the Iraqi’s stand up, we will stand down,” across the United States. The 11 newly arrived US Marine Advisors were a very small part of that critical strategy.

As we started to conduct a turnover of responsibilities with the 11 man Advisor Team we were replacing, the sheer sense of the complexity of our job became apparent. While ‘turning over’ responsibilities one day, the Marine I was replacing motioned to the perimeter wall and said “there is Shark Base.” After asking what Shark Base was, he described the presence of our nations most critical Special Operations forces and amongst them were US Navy SEALs whom we would be working with off and on.

Within two weeks, we met the Platoon Commander of the SEALs, some of the other team members, and Ryan Job. I could tell he was younger than the rest of the SEALs and seemed to smile more, laughing out loud at even the slightest of jokes. As the meeting broke, the SEAL leadership and the US Marine leadership ventured off for further discussions, leaving me with Ryan Job, whom I walked outside the building with. I told him, if he needed anything to let us know, he smiled and hopped into the team truck, a ‘slick’ tan Toyota Hilux, and sped off for the 3-minute drive back to Shark Base.

A few weeks later, the SEALs returned with a request for some of our best Iraqi soldiers to accompany them on a mission. I can’t quite remember if Chris Kyle was amongst the SEALs in our Combat Operations Center (COC) that day, but I do remember Ryan Job being there. As the meeting broke, Ryan and I walked outside and sat in the shade of our compound waiting for the rest to leave. He asked me if I could get any cigars as it had been a rough couple of weeks for the team. I walked inside and grabbed a box of cigars that had been left behind by the previous team and handed it to him. He thanked me and then after making some small talk, he asked me the usual questions of where I had attended college or even more interestingly enough what my commissioning source was.

Looking back at him I leaned back and asked him why he asked which route I took to earn my commission. He then began to tell me a hilarious story about how he had been in the US Navy’s Reserve Officer Training Corps (ROTC) at college previously. A ‘unique’ incident had happened while going through ROTC that had forever prevented him from joining the US Marines and becoming an Officer. With the change in plans he enlisted in the US Navy and became a SEAL.

After laughing my ass off for a few minutes, the rest of the SEALs left the meeting and along with Ryan Job headed back to prepare for the mission. I would see Ryan Job a few more times, sharing what stuff I could get my hands on, and we swapped stories quickly before he would head back out. The last time I would see Ryan, was about a month later.

Walking back from the dining facility at Camp Ramadi and almost reaching our compound, I could see the rooster tail of an off-road truck speeding on the base and headed straight towards me. Moving off the road, to ensure I wouldn’t get accidentally hit, I peered into the truck and with shock I could see A few SEALs in the back frantically working on a SEAL propped up against the back bench seat and another driving at a high rate of speed.

‘Charlie Med’ as the medical facility is known, is a Surgical Shock Trauma Platoon of the very finest medical personnel in the area. A dedicated group of mostly US Army and Navy medical personnel who served the US military population on the base. Their sole purpose is to preserve life, giving the injured a chance to live to their next destination on sequential steps of life saving care. Usually if you left ‘Charlie Med’ alive, you would make it. Ryan Job left ‘Charlie Med’ alive that day. Struck in the face by an insurgent’s shot, he would need numerous surgeries to recover.

On base you could feel the weight of the losses hanging heavily over Camp Ramadi, as the death counts were reaching dizzying heights. Behind each number was another good dude at the front door step of fate. Moving to the sound of the gun they represented what it meant to be serving in the ‘Sunni Triangle’ during these difficult years. Walking into the Brigade Combat Team (BCT) headquarters building, the visitor was treated to the surreal visual experience of seeing the faces of every combat death posted on the wall. I could not tell you how many faces there were, but fuck there were a lot.

After catching up with the rest of the SEALs some point later, they relayed the story that they had taken casualties and Ryan was amongst them. I am not sure if the injured SEAL in the truck that day was Ryan or not, I suspect it was, but it doesn’t really matter at this point. A few years later and after more than a dozen surgeries, Ryan Job would die stateside from an apparent medical accident.

Sitting in the 101 Cafe in Oceanside, California after returning from my second tour in Ramadi in 2009, I ordered my usual hearty breakfast. I searched for Ryan Job on the Wi-Fi in the cafe and was shocked to see what had happened. I had hoped to shoot a message to whoever could get it to him that I had returned from Ramadi and wished him well. Now unable to do so, I just wish to tell anyone that reads this that I crossed paths with a pretty cool dude in a shitty town west Fallujah. You may catch a glimpse of him on the big screen, but seriously we should never forget those that sacrificed it all.

Semper Fidelis