They Benched the Wrong Guy
To defuse the bomb strapped to the hostage, I had no choice—I cut off all her clothes.
My clueless new wife, Dana Poole, blasted it online.
She cried as she faced me. "Why not at least leave her underwear on? You were saving her, I get it—but did you have to take everything? Doesn't a girl's dignity matter? With cameras everywhere, how is she supposed to live after this? You couldn't even cover her up?"
The backlash exploded. The unit benched me to calm things down.
So I stopped caring. I followed procedure, no improvising, no extra effort.
Then one day, at the busiest mall in the city, Dana's mom got strapped into a brand-new linked bomb.
This time, the whole unit panicked.