Sunday 3 October was like any other Sunday. We spent the night before just sitting and talking. Three Ranger friends came over to talk to us. After about 2 hours they left to go back to their station. I had met a guy in front of the fire station one night during a mortar attack – we were both securing out areas and watching tracer rounds and mortars come in. After that night we were friends. We met two other guys a few days later. One's wife just had their second child around the middle of September and he was really happy. The other non-commissioned officer (NCO) had a little one also. The other soldier was single. They are were under 23 years old.

I had laid out earlier on Sunday and I came in and asked one of the guys to go walk to the beach with me. Since you have to walk around the airfield, its about a three mile walk. We came home about 1545 and I decided to go lay out again.

I heard the Ranger's helicopters running up to go out. I knew my friends would be going out so when the choppers flew over I waved at them - "everyone always waves them off." I guess it was about 30 minutes later that I came in and the guys were all jumping on the fire truck, so I got the HMVV and followed them out to the runway. There was a UH-60 that had been shot up and we took one guy off of it – he had half his head blown off. We hosed the aircraft down and returned to the station. We had no sooner got back to the station when somebody ran in yelling that a HMVV had been hit and it was full of wounded. I ran over and helped unload the body of one guy who looked to be about 17. I still had no idea what the hell was going on. A five-ton pulled up and I ran over to it and helped them open the back. What I saw was something I was never prepared for – wounded Rangers were piled on top of dead ones who were on top of Somali prisoners who were on top of Somali dead. I reached up and helped pull a guy down – his leg and arm were blown off and he was dead. I ran and got another one and he had been hit real bad – he died on the stretcher.

A Staff Sergeant (SSG) and I picked up another stretcher and carried it to the morgue – before we realized the guy had a rocket-propelled grenade (RPG) round stuck in his chest. We had to build a bunker for his body for fear that the RPG round might explode. I went back and waited for more wounded to come in. That was when I heard what was going on. The Rangers were pinned down on the outskirts of shipping post. We all sat on top of a pile of pallets and waited for more wounded. I guess about 10 minutes went by before they came in. I remember one guy had been shot through the rib cage – it went in his left side and came out his right. I ran over and got a doctor for him and stuck him on a chopper that took him to the hospital – he made it. By now I was looking at thirty to forty Rangers lying all over the place, spot lights were on, people were screaming for IV's and patients were yelling from the pain. All of a sudden I realized that my three friends were still out there. I did not know if they had been hit so I ran over to the morgue and looked at the faces of the dead – none were my three friends. I ran back and asked a Colonel if he heard anything – he said "they are still out there" as he pointed to the north end of the airfield. I looked and I could see what looked like a massive fireworks show – rockets, RPGs and tracers everywhere. Then I saw something explode about 30 feet below one of the choppers and heard someone yell "wounded coming in," – we had another copper go down.

The U.S. Army Quick Reaction Force (QRF) had formed a convoy and was leaving to go help the Rangers. I looked over and saw them and wondered how many would be returning in body bags. I said a prayer for them, telling God to bring them all back. They told us to go get rest because it would be a while before the pinned down Rangers would be back. I sat on a bench and watched the firefight and said another prayer for my friends. I went to my cot and cried until I fell asleep. I woke five hours later to the sound of helicopters. I hurried outside and was put on a litter team to help unload the dead and wounded. We would take them of the incoming aircraft and place them in the morgue of the hospital tent. I still had no idea if my friends made it in. I saw a guy with a list of names, he would not tell me anything. I just felt helpless, I wanted to go out and get them. I sat on the pallets again and waited for about three hours - then two helos landed. I watched the Rangers come off of them - then out of nowhere I saw two of them - but could not find the third. I ran over to them with a feeling of despair and they said he had been shot but would be okay. Later that night we all sat around and talked about the day we all have come to call Black or Bloody Sunday.

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