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Title: This military special ops unit is so classified, even its name is a secret — and getting into it is absolute hell
Source: [None]
URL Source: https://nypost.com/2024/02/19/world ... ssified-it-doesnt-have-a-name/
Published: Feb 20, 2024
Author: Adam Gamal
Post Date: 2024-02-20 12:01:50 by Ada
Keywords: None
Views: 32

A new book looks at the most secretive unit in the military. Hurlburt Field

We’ve all heard of the Navy SEALs and the Green Berets, but there’s an elite team within the US military that’s so secretive, even its name is classified. It’s referred to simply as “the Unit” or “the Activity,” and the VA has no record of its members. Adam Gamal, a pseudonymous author, writes about his time as part of the highly classified group in his new book “The Unit: My Life Fighting Terrorists as One of America’s Most Secret Military Operatives” (St. Martin’s Press, Feb. 20). Gamal, a Muslim American who fled Egypt and the Muslim Brotherhood as a young boy, enlisted in the US Army in 1994, compelled to serve the country that had given him freedom. He initially hesitated to join the special forces — though his language skills were needed, and his dark complexion and 5- foot-1 stature would make him an asset who could easily blend-in abroad. But, after 9/11, he wanted to do whatever he could to fight al-Qaeda.

“I felt that I had a moral obligation to make sure these guys didn’t do any more damage — either to my fellow Americans or to the religion that also feels like home to me,” he writes in the book, which is co-authored by Kelly Kennedy. But, joining the Unit first required undergoing a long, grueling selection process that was was excruciating both physically and mentally. Gamal, who has been awarded the Purple Heart, the Bronze Star Medal and the Legion of Merit, shares his experience in this excerpt.

"The Unit" book cover. 13 As soon as they handcuffed us and pulled bags over our heads, I started to hear explosions all around me, as if we’d sud­denly found ourselves in a war zone.

From underneath my bag, I began to hear voices all around me: “I quit.”

I’d been walking for days, and I smelled sour. Things didn’t get better after they removed the bags from our heads. They asked me a bunch of questions, including about a message I’d received from a guy at a bar on the shady side of town.

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