Badass

Britain’s Prime Minister Winston Churchill in World War II wanted “specially trained troops of the hunter class, who can develop a reign of terror down these coasts [of occupied Europe], first of all on the butcher and bolt policy… leaving a trail of German corpses behind them.” This translated into …

Six armed men on April 30, 1980 stormed the Iranian embassy in London. The men took hostages, and issued demands. After six days, the terrorists killed a hostage and threw his body outside. Enter the British Special Air Service (SAS) and Operation Nimrod. British crisis expert Robert McAlister analyzes what unfolded from there.  ANALYSIS …

by Heath Hansen Everything became eerily still, until… it blinked. “ENEMY!” Fils screamed. Then all hell broke loose.  The sun was just setting on the thick canopy of trees and bushes surrounding their position. It was a long day of humping through the dense growth; but it had been productive. …

by Susan Katz Keating “There’s a certain sound…” The song stuck with him for years afterwards. He was being marched to his execution in the jungles of Vietnam, and had been ordered to carry a radio to pick up “Radio Hanoi,” but he secretly dialed in to a station that …

The Royal Gurkha Rifles soldier defended a Helmand checkpoint alone. By dawn the attackers were gone, and the sentry who held the line was standing at his post. by Jose Campos At first light outside the British patrol base near Babaji, the ground told the story of the night before. …

Flying old cargo planes through darkness and anti-aircraft fire, pilots had to find the hidden runway before Nigerian fighters found them. by Gatimu Juma The pilot pushed the throttles forward, and the cargo aircraft climbed into the humid African night. Behind him the island of São Tomé disappeared into darkness. …

The 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment is known as the Night Stalkers. They move at a moment’s notice, arriving time on target, plus or minus 30 seconds. Check out the team in action.

by John Gartner As I sat looking out the port side window of the Dakota, I could see below me the vast expanse of Lake Cahora Bassa dam. The grey skeletal branches of long-drowned trees dotted the shoreline and seemed, in my reverie, to be reaching imploringly skyward. The surface …

by Susan Katz Keating In retrospect, it seems fitting that I met Viktor Belenko in Reno. He was a gambler hanging out in a gambling town, surrounded by pilots in their fast moving aircraft, barreling wildly around pylons. I went there many years back, looking for stories to be found …

by Heath HansenIt’s a gray, cold, and windy autumn day as I arrive and step out of my vehicle. The snow is beginning to stick to the North Brabant earth under my feet as I approach the house. A man opens the door, shakes my hand, and welcomes me into …