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

Brooklyn-born Honor Man of Class 93 and onetime commanding officer of
SEAL Team 2. He was also the future Rear Admiral Maguire, Commander,
SPECWARCOM, a supreme SEAL warrior. He had served all over the world
and was beloved throughout Coronado, a big guy who never forgot a fellow
SEAL’s name, no matter how junior.
He talked to us calmly. And he gave us two pieces of priceless advice. He
said he was addressing those who really wanted this kind of life, those who
could put up with every kind of harassment those instructors at the back of the
room could possibly dish out.
“First of all, I do not want you to give in to the pressure of the moment.
Whenever you’re hurting bad, just hang in there. Finish the day. Then, if you’re
still feeling bad, think about it long and hard before you decide to quit. Second,
take it one day at a time. One evolution at a time.
“Don’t let your thoughts run away with you, don’t start planning to bail out
because you’re worried about the future and how much you can take. Don’t look
ahead to the pain. Just get through the day, and there’s a wonderful career ahead
of you.”
This was Captain Maguire, a man who would one day serve as deputy
commander of the U.S. Special Operations in Pacific Command (COMPAC).
With his twin-eagles insignia glinting on his collar, Captain Maguire instilled in
us the knowledge of what really counted.
I stood there reflecting for a few moments, and then the roof fell in. One of
the instructors was up and yelling. “Drop!” he shouted and proceeded to lay into
us for the sins of one man.
“I saw one of you nodding off, right here in the middle of the captain’s
briefing. How dare you! How dare you fall asleep in the presence of a man of
that caliber? You guys are going to pay for this. Now push ’em out!”
He drilled us, gave us probably a hundred push-ups and sit-ups, and he drove
us up and down the big sand dune in front of the compound. He raved at us
because our times over the O-course were down, which was mostly due to the
fact that we were paralyzed with tiredness before we got there.
And so it went on, all week. There was a swim across the bay, one mile with
a guy of comparable swimming ability. There were evolutions in the pool, in
masks, wearing flippers and without. There was one where we had to lie on our
backs, masks full of water, flippers on, trying to do flutter kicks with our heads
out over the water. This was murder. So was the log PT and our four-mile runs.
The surf work in the boats was also a strength-sapping experience, running the