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

learned how to extinguish fires, escape smoke-filled compartments, open and
close watertight doors, operate the oxygen breathing apparatus, and move fire
hoses around. The last part was the worst — the Confidence Chamber. You get
in there with your class and put on a gas mask. Then someone unleashes a teargas
tablet, and you have to take off your mask, throw it in a trash can, and recite
your full name and Social Security number.
Every single recruit who joins the navy has to endure that exercise. At the
end, the instructors make it clear: you have what it takes. There’s a place in the
navy for you.
The final task is called battle stations. Teams are presented with twelve
situations, all of which have been addressed during the previous weeks. This is
where they grade the recruits, individually and as teams. When you’ve
completed this, the trainers present you with a U.S. Navy ball cap, and that tells
the world you are now a sailor. You have proved you belong, proved you have
the right stuff.
The following week, I graduated, in my brand-new dress uniform. I
remember passing the mirror and hardly recognizing myself. Standing tall, right
there. There’s something about graduating from boot camp; I guess it’s mostly
pride in yourself. But you also know a lot of people couldn’t have done it. Makes
you feel pretty good. Especially someone like me, whose major accomplishment
thus far had involved hurling some half-drunk cowboy out of an East Texas bar
and into the street on his ear.
After I graduated, I flew immediately to San Diego, headed to Coronado
Island and the navy amphibious base. I made my way there alone, a couple of
weeks early, and spent my time organizing my uniforms, gear, and rooms, and
trying to get into some sort of shape.
Most of us had lost a lot of condition at boot camp because the weather was
so bad. You couldn’t just jog outside and go for a run because of the blizzards
and the deep snow. Perhaps you remember that very brave guy who made the
journey to the South Pole with the Royal Navy officer, Robert Falcon Scott, in
1912. He believed he was hindering the entire team because of his frostbite.
Captain Oates was his name, and he crawled out into a raging blizzard one night
with the immortal words, “I am going outside now. I may be gone for some
time.”
They never found his body, and I have never forgotten reading his words.
Guts-ball, right? Well, going outside at Great Lakes would have been a bit like
that, and almost as brave. Unlike the gallant captain, we stayed by the heater.