There were no dry runs for Seawolves in Vietnam. They put their lives on the line—every time. In the Viet Cong-infested Mekong Delta, where small SEAL teams were always outgunned and outnumbered, discovery brought swift, deadly consequences— and a radio call for backup from the United States Navy’s very best: the Seawolves. The whir of approaching rotor blades signaled their arrival as they tore through the jungle at treetop level, gunners hanging off the skids, shooting M-60s, raining down their lethal mix of high explosives and incendiary death. Seawolf Dan Kelly describes the origins of this extraordinary outfit. Put through a training program unlike any other, these men emerged to perform unparalleled feats of courage. The stories of these elite warriors capture America’s real heroes in all their guts and glory, and demonstrate why the Seawolves are known as the most successful and most decorated unit in the Vietnam War. were no dry runs for Seawolves in Vietnam. They put their lives on the line every time. In the Viet Cong-infested Mekong Delta, where small SEAL teams were always outgunned and outnumbered, discovery brought swift, deadly consequences and a radio call for backup from the United States Navy s very best: the Seawolves. The whir of approaching rotor blades signaled their arrival as they tore through the jungle at treetop level, gunners hanging off the skids, shooting M-60s, raining down their lethal mix of high explosives and incendiary death. Seawolf Dan Kelly describes the origins of this extraordinary outfit. Put through a training program unlike any other, these men emerged to perform unparalleled feats of courage. The stories of these elite warriors capture America s real heroes in all their guts and glory, and demonstrate why the Seawolves are known as the most successful and most decorated unit in the Vietnam War. There were no dry runs for Seawolves in Vietnam. They put their lives on the line--every time. In the Viet Cong-infested Mekong Delta, where small SEAL teams were always" outgunned and outnumbered, discovery brought swift, deadly consequences-- and a radio call for backup from the United States Navy's very best: the Seawolves. The whir of approaching rotor blades signaled their arrival as they tore through the jungle at treetop level, gunners hanging off the skids, shooting M-60s, raining down their lethal mix of high explosives and incendiary death. Seawolf Dan Kelly describes the origins of this extraordinary outfit. Put through a training program unlike any other, these men emerged to perform unparalleled feats of courage. The stories of these elite warriors capture America's real heroes in all their guts and glory, and demonstrate why the Seawolves are known as the most successful and most decorated unit in the Vietnam War. Daniel E. Kelly lives with his wife, Belle, in McKinney, Texas. After leaving the navy, he earned a B.A. from the University of Northern Iowa. Despite the loss of a leg four inches above the knee, he holds a deputy’s commission with the Dallas County sheriff’s department. He has worked with the Dallas Tactical Team and gone undercover for BATF. He likes horseback riding and Harley-Davidson motorcycles. Monsoon season. The night is covered with a blanket of humid air you could cut with a knife. It is perfectly still. The only evidence of movement is a lone, olive drab, thirty-one-foot-long fiberglass patrol boat drifting in the river. On board is a U.S. Navy SEAL Team frozen in time, sweat trickling down camouflaged faces with watchful eyes. Seven men wait silently around the twin .50s--two .50 caliber machine guns--on the front of the PBR (Patrol Boat, River) manned by one of the River Rat sailors. Another River Rat is at a single .50 caliber gun at the rear of the vessel. They watch for any sign that their position has been detected. There's an old chief petty officer at the wheel, using all his experience to guide the PBR with its two diesel engines and jet pumps to its destination without making a sound. By nursing the throttles ever so gently and using the current, he navigates the river to get the SEAL Team where it wants to go. You can't hear the motors at idle speed because of the foam built around them to kill the noise. Total darkness. With the thick cloud cover brought on by the approaching monsoon, you can't tell where the river stops and the jungle starts. That's where the fourth River Rat comes in. He's got his sweat-dripping face pushed into a large black rubber cup that has a radar screen inside it. It's the only way he can see the shoreline. A slight breeze begins to blow across the bow, signaling that the rain will start at any moment. By whispering directions and using a combination of hand signals to the chief, the two of them maneuver the PBR in to the muddy bottom of the shallow water, which is the bank, as careful as a mother handling a newborn babe. As the boat drifts to a complete stop on the bank, the Seals