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

our tests was called slide for life, a thick eighty-foot nylon rope attached to a
tower and looped down to a vertical pole about ten feet high. You had to climb
up the tower hanging on to the rope then slide all the way back down or pull
yourself, whichever was easier.
For the record, on the subject of Instructor Reno, when we had to climb
various ropes, he would amuse himself by climbing to the same height as us
while using two ropes, one in each hand, never losing his grip and never letting
go of either one. To this day, I believe that was impossible and that Reno was
some kind of a mirage in sunglasses on the sand.
I struggled through the rope loop, making the top and sliding down, but one
guy lost his grip and fell down, straight onto the sand, and broke his arm and, I
think, his leg. He was a pretty big guy, and there was another one gone. The
other discipline that sticks in my memory was that cargo net. You know the type
of thing, heavy-duty rope knotted together in squares, the kind of stuff that has
come straight from a shipyard. It was plainly imperative we all got damn good at
this, since SEALs use such nets to board and disembark submarines and ships
and to get in and out of inflatable boats.
But it was hard for me. It seemed when I shoved my boot in and reached
upward, the foothold slipped downward, and my intended handhold got higher.
Obviously, if I’d weighed 118 pounds soaking wet, this would not have been the
case. First time I climbed the net, ramming my feet into the holes, I got kind of
stuck about forty-five feet off the ground, arms and legs spreadeagled. I guess I
looked like Captain Ahab trapped in the harpoon lines after a trip to the ocean
floor with Moby Dick.
But like all the rest of our exercises, this one was completely about
technique. And Instructor Reno was there to put me straight. Four days later, I
could zip up that net like a circus acrobat. Well...okay, more like an orangutan.
Then I’d grab the huge log at the top, clear that, and climb down the other side
like Spider-Man. Okay, okay...like an orangutan.
I had similar struggles on the rope bridge, which seemed always to be out of
kilter for me, swinging too far left or too far right. But Instructor Reno was
always there, personally, to help me regain my equilibrium by sending me on a
quick rush into the ocean, which was so cold it almost stopped my heart. This
was followed by a roll in the sand, just to make the rest of the day an absolute
itching, chafing hell until I hit the decontamination unit to get power washed
down, same way you deal with a mud-caked tractor.
Naturally, the newly clean tractor had it all over us because no one then