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

determined young men who would rather die than quit but simply could not
swim well enough, run fast enough, lift heavy enough, guys who lacked
endurance, underwater confidence, skills in a boat.
These were the hardest to dismiss from the program, because these were
guys who had given their all and would go on doing so. They just lacked some
form of God-given talent to carry out the work of a U.S. Navy SEAL. Years later
I knew several instructors quite well, and they all said the same about that fourth
week first phase assessment, the week before Hell Week — “We all agonized
over it. No one wants to be in the business of breaking a kid’s heart.”
But neither could they allow the weak and the hopeless to go forward into
the most demanding six days of training in any fighting force in the world.
That’s not the free world, by the way, that’s the whole world. Only Great
Britain’s legendary SAS has anything even comparable.
The results of the four-week assessment meant there were just fifty-four of
us left; fifty-four of the ninety-eight who had started first phase. And Class 226
would start early, as all Hell Week classes do, Sunday at noon.
Late that last Friday, we assembled in the classroom to be formally addressed
once more by Captain Maguire, who was accompanied by several instructors and
class officers.
“Everyone ready for Hell Week?” he asked us cheerfully.
Hooyah!
“Excellent,” he replied. “Because you are about to experience a very
searching and painful test. Each one of you is going to find out what you are
really made of. And every step of the way, you will be faced with a choice. Do I
give in to the pain and the cold, or do I go on? It will always be up to you.
There’s no quotas, no numbers. We don’t decide who passes. You do. But I’ll be
there on Friday when Hell Week ends, and I hope to shake the hand of each and
every one of you.”
We all stood in some awe for the exit of Captain Maguire, the quintessential
Coronado man, who understood the pride of achievement at having scaled the
heights and who knew what really counted, in the SEALs and beyond. He was
the everlasting chief.
They briefed us about what to bring to class on Sunday — our gear,
equipment, change of clothes, dry clothes, and some off-duty clothes, which
would be placed in a paper bag so the successful guys would have something to
wear when it was all over. Guys who went DOR (dropped on request) would
also have dry clothes available anytime during the week when they prepared to