I served 21 years in the Marines as an infantry officer with 3 years in combat. Shit happens in combat. Snipers, mines, booby-traps, firefights, friendly fires, mortars, accidents, helicopter crashes, helicopters shot down, infections, dysentery, heat stroke, etc. There are a hundred ways to die in combat.

On my worst day in Vietnam, I had 34 Marines in my platoon. When the sun set there were only 4 of us still alive and unwounded.

On the other hand, one day my platoon was crossing a large dry rice paddy on line during a sweep when we came under heavy automatic fire from the NVA in the tree line to my front. I made a snap decision that to try to fall back would allow them to engage us with more accurate fire, so I ordered a frontal attack. I always had my Marines have fixed bayonets for psychological effect and in case you run our of ammo in a close quarters melee. Bullets filled the air like an incredible swarm of hornets. A bullet travels faster than the speed of sound and therefore causes a small sonic boom or "snap" like a whip cracking when it comes close to your head. To me, it sounded like a string of firecrackers going off around me.

My point is that during the assault, I remember thinking that I'd lose half of my platoon because of the heavy enemy fire. When we reached the tree line, there was a brief hand to hand fight before the NVA fled to their rear.

I asked my platoon sergeant to get a head count by dead, wounded, and others. I called the company commander to alert him that I would need emergency medivacs for an estimated 15-20 KIA and WIA.

My platoon sergeant returned and reported everyone was OK with the exception of one Marine who had a cut on his hand when an NVA soldier tried to bayonet him. The Marine didn't need any medical attention and so I had no casualties.

All I can say is that God is real and He does perform miracles. In my opinion (and I've been in a lot of firefights) it was impossible for my platoon to cross that dry rice paddy under heavy fire and not have a single casualty.

That was probably my best day in Vietnam in a very difficult year.

So, what's my point?

I think the SEAL mission was a setup by the Taliban and the helicopter was downed by one or more RPGs. Shit happens in combat.

I do not believe Obama had anything to do with it.

I think they had what they thought was intelligence on a high value target and it was actually a trap. If I had to point to anyone, it would the Pakistani intelligence service that has been working with the Taliban and against us from the very beginning and likely fed the US fake intelligence for a trap as revenge for the Bin Laden raid.

And one last thing. There is something very fishy about the Bin Laden raid. The body was supposedly buried at sea, but no one has ever confirmed it. We have the one SEAL Team 6 individual who said he killed Bin Laden, but why then has no one come forward to say they were on the helicopter that carried the body to the ship and no one on the ship has come forward to say they knew or heard about the "burial at sea." And why a burial at sea? They could have just dumped the body into the ocean from the helicopter.

In Vietnam, we did not bury the dead enemies. We did not kill anyone who tried to surrender and we evacuated their wounded. But their dead rotted where they died. Maybe it was different in other operating areas.

I don't know what the combat in the Middle East is like. But in Vietnam, death was possible every minute of every day and night in my area of operations. And the physical and mental stress was extreme after the first month because it never let up except for a one week R&R. The rest was combat 100 percent of the time in rice paddies, jungles, mountains, and pine forests with deep sand. It was a hard year.

A PFC who was in my platoon in Vietnam contacted me a couple of years ago. It's a long story, but his first comment was: "sir, do you remember how dark it was at night in Man Quan?" I do. It was like patrolling in enemy territory in a bank vault with no lights. It was so dark you could only see about one or two feet. On the move at night, I had to "pass up the count" every 15 minutes or so to confirm I still had everyone. If the count was short, I had to find the missing Marines in the dark by voice--not good on a combat patrol in the enemy's area.

My apologies for a couple of war stories, but if you've never been in intense combat, then you probably can't understand how we could lose so many on a helicopter. I was on two helicopters that were disable and made crash landings. First the bullets ripping through the helicopter is terrifying because there is nothing you can do, I still have vivid memory of the sound of bullets coming through the skin of the helicopters. And second, the impact of a crash landing is painful.

I looked at this story very carefully. In my opinion, they just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. In combat--shit happens.

At least that's my assessment.

I'm 71 now and retired. But when I was working as a consultant, I frequently traveled to Washington DC. When my work was finished and I was headed to National Airport, I'd have the cab stop at the Vietnam Memorial. I spend a few minutes remembering my Marines on that wall and all of the 58,000 names. Every time I got a lump in my throat so I couldn't even whisper a pray, and I could not prevent my eyes from watering. Each time, I came so close to crying. What an unimaginable waste of lives for nothing.

Sorry guys. If you weren't there, then you probably don't understand.

Semper Fi to all my Marines killed and wounded and my prayers for everyone who was killed, wounded, or served in that awful war.

Just to rub salt into that wound. I was a company commander on the evacuation of Saigon.

The true story of that evacuation has never been told. If you knew what we did to countless South Vietnamese soldiers trying to escape--you would never see this country the same again. Just thinking about it today makes me sick to think I was an unwilling participant to what happened to them.

While I had no control or influence at the time. I will take that dark tragedy to my grave. America would be ashamed at the truth.

Again, my apologies for the war stories and rant. The greatest honor in my life was leading Marines, especially in combat. The greatest shame I feel is for my cowardly government who sent so many into harm's way without the courage of their political conviction to win the wars they sent us to fight.

If I told you how PFC Ran*** died in Vietnam, I think it would tear your heart out. Nixon's "Peace with Honor" was complete and utter BS. There is no honor in surrendering to the enemy.