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

times, because if we did not put out, we’d surely pay for it.
He made sure we had all moved from our Indoc barracks, behind the grinder,
over to the naval special warfare barracks a couple of hundred yards north of the
center. Prime real estate on the sandy beach, and it’s all yours — just as long as
you can stay on the BUD/S bandwagon and remain in Class 226, the numbers of
which will shortly be blocked in stark white on either side of your new green
phase one helmet. Those numbers stay with you as long as you serve in the Navy
SEALs. My class’s three white-painted numbers would one day become the
sweetest sounds I ever heard.
Instructor Mruk nodded agreeably and told us he would be over to the new
barracks at 1000 Sunday to make sure we knew how to get our rooms ready for
inspection. He gave us one last warning: “You’re an official class now. First
phase owns you.”
And so to the cloudless Monday morning of June 18, all of us assembled
outside the barracks two hours before sunrise. It was 0500 and the temperature
not much above fifty degrees. Our new instructor, a stranger, stood there silently.
Lieutenant Ismay reported, formally, “Class Two-two-six is formed, Chief.
Ninety-eight men present.”
David Ismay saluted. Chief Stephen Schulz returned the salute without so
much as a “Good morning” or “How y’doing?” Instead, he just snapped, “Hit the
surf, sir. All of you. Then get into the classroom.”
Here we went again. Class 226 charged out of the compound and across the
beach to the ocean. We floundered into the ice-cold water, got wet, and then
squelched our way back to the classroom, freezing, dripping, already full of
apprehension.
“Drop!” ordered the instructor. Then again. Then again. Finally, Ensign Joe
Burns, a grim-looking SEAL commander, took his place in front of us and
informed us he was the first phase officer. A few of us flinched. Burns’s
reputation as a hard man had preceded him. He later proved to be one of the
toughest men I ever met.
“I understand you all want to be frogmen?”
Hooyah!
“I guess we’ll see about that,” said Ensign Burns. “Find out how bad you
really want it. This is my phase, and these are my staff instructors.”
Each of the fourteen introduced himself to us by name. And then Chief
Schulz, presumably terrified we’d all go soft on him after an entire two minutes
of talk, commanded, “Drop and push ’em out.” And again. And again.