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

“I’m your class proctor for the next two weeks. And I’ll help you, if you
need help, over matters of pay, family, and personal concerns. If you get injured,
go to medical and get it fixed and get back into training. I’m your proctor. Not
your mother. I’m here to teach you. You stay in the box, I’ll help you. You get
outside the box, I’ll hammer you. Understood?”
“Hooyah!”
“Finally, reputation. And your reputation begins right here. And so does the
reputation of Class Two-two-six. And that’s a reflection on me. It’s a
responsibility I take very personally. Because reputation is everything. In life,
and especially right here in Coronado. So stay focused. Keep your head right in
the game. Put out a hundred percent at all times, because we’ll know if you
don’t. And never, ever, leave your swim buddy. Any questions?”
“Negative!”
Who could ever forget that? Not me. I can still hear in my mind the sharp
crack as Instructor Reno snapped shut his notebook. It sounded to me like
Moses, hammering together the granite slabs which held the 10 Commandments.
That Reno was a five-foot-six-inch giant. He was some presence in our lives.
That day we bailed out of the classroom and went for a four-mile run along
the beach. Three times he stopped us and told us to get in the surf and “get wet
and sandy.”
Our boots were waterlogged and each passing mile was murder. We never
could get the sand out of our shorts. Our skin was chafing, and Reno didn’t give
a damn. At the end of the run, he ordered us to drop and start pushing ’em out.
He gave us two sets of twenty, and right toward the end of the first set, I noticed
he was doing the exercise with us. Except he was using only one arm, and he
didn’t even look like he was breathing hard.
That guy could have arm wrestled a half-ton gorilla. And just the sight of
him cruising through the push-ups alongside us gave us a fair idea of the
standard of fitness and strength required for us to make it through BUD/S.
As we prepared to make the mile run to the chow hall around noon, Reno
told us calmly, “Remember, there’s just a few of you here who we’d probably
have to kill before you’d quit. We know that, and I’ve already identified some of
you. That’s what I am here to find out. Which of you can take the pain and the
cold and the misery. We’re here to find out who wants it most. Nothing more.
Some of you won’t, some of you can’t and never will. No hard feelings. Just
don’t waste our time any longer than necessary.”
Thanks a bunch, Reno. Just can’t understand why you have to sugarcoat