Lone Survivor_ The Eyewitness Account of Operation Redwing and the Lost Heroes of SEAL Team 10 ( PDFDrive )

the subject of valor.
Billy had a glittering army career in combat with the Green Berets in
Vietnam and, later, serving on a government SWAT team. He was one of the
toughest men I ever met, and one afternoon just before my fifteenth birthday, I
plucked up my courage and went to his house to ask if he could train me to
become a Navy SEAL. He was eating his lunch at the time, came to the door still
chewing. He was a bull of a man, rippling muscles, fair skin, not carrying one
ounce of fat. To my eyes he looked like he could have choke slammed a rhino.
I made my hesitant request. And he just looked me up and down and said,
“Right here. Four, tomorrow afternoon.” Then he shut the door in my face. I was
a bit young at the time, but the phrase I was groping for was No bullshit, right?
Now, everyone in the area knew that Billy trained kids for the special forces.
And when he had a group of us running down the street, cars driving by would
blow their horns and cheer us on.
He always ignored that, and he showed us no mercy. Our program included
running with heavy concrete blocks on our shoulders. When Billy thought we
were strong enough, we stepped up the pace, running with rubber tires, which
felt like they’d just come off the space shuttle or at least that big ole tractor out
back.
Billy did not hold an exercise class; he operated a full preSEAL training
program for teenagers. Over the years he had us in the gym pumping iron,
hauling the torture machine, the ergometer, pounding the roads, driving our
bodies, sweating and straining.
Morgan and I were terrified of him. I used to have nightmares when we were
due to report to him the next morning, because he drove us without mercy, never
mind our extreme youth. We were in a class of maybe a dozen guys, all
midteens.
“I’m gonna break you down, mentally and physically,” he yelled at us.
“Break you down, hear me? Then I’m gonna build you right back up, as one
fighting unit — so your mind and body are one. Understand me? I’m gonna put
you through more pain than you’ve ever been in.”
Right about then, half the class ran for their lives rather than face this
bulldog, this ex–Texas Tech tailback who could run like a Mack truck going
downhill. He had the support of a local high school, which allowed him to use
their gym free of charge to train future special forces from our part of the world.
“I’m not your friend,” he’d shout. “Not right here in this gym. I’m here to get
you right — fit, trained, and ready for the SEALs, or the Berets, or the Rangers.