A great group arrived on Friday ready for training. Much more lively than the May guys when they arrived but as Hell Night progressed, the life was sucked outta them and the end result was the same for each class we have.

PAIN…

Beginning with the Physical Screening Test (PST) for BUD/S. Many of the guys had read the tips posted by the last class on NavySEALs.com with the best tip being what not to eat or drink here before the PST began to avoid throwing up during the challenging test.

It didn’t work…

With all the classes we’ve done here, it’s easy to call the June 08 class “THE PUKERS” and it would have been very simple to track down anyone lost by simply following the piles of vomit they graced our beautiful State with. Having comms with Mad Dog at the halfway point for the PST run, the open-air channel was inundated with truckers on CB radios reporting all the hurling of guts.

As more and more truckers described the carnage it became the big news in a sleepy town and I was able to keep track of the guys progress during the run from the endless reports of guys throwing up along the road and speculation by the truckers of who the guys were…

Having seen my prior Youtube videos of guys hurling their guts up here, the trainees went out of their way to avoid the camera during regurgitation knowing they would forever be immortalized during a moment of weakness.

We managed to capture a few dry heaves though…

Lacking rain, our Gladiatorial Pits were bone dry. Not wanting to disappoint the guys we reconstituted the Pits with repeated trips in and out of the pool (Lake) and mixing the mess into a mud pit fit for Royalty and the Games began.

One highlight of the Games was certainly the Class Leader. Distinguished in the community as a business leader, husband and father, the 42-year-old trusted gentleman from Nevada extended his hand to his younger opponent before the match as a gesture of sportsmanship and inspiration for all to follow.

As his opponent clasped his hand in friendship, the Class Leader jerked him off balance and quickly won the bout.

This place brings out the devil in all of us…

The morning was tough, very tough, and the guys made their way back to the Cabin for lunch and Hand-to-Hand with DJ, Cole, and Chris as SEAL Instructors. The only injuries sustained were a cut finger, sore bellies from throwing up, and a few hurt feelings that morning, but Hand-to-Hand would produce an injury we haven’t seen before in the form of a young man who for some reason was unable to close his open mouth.

As the Hand-to-Hand progressed and a variety of skills were taught to trainees, my main focus is always observing for safety during the demanding and physical training.

I stand back and let the young SEALs teach and watch for injuries or the potential for injuries, while the guys thrash each other and learn skills all SEALs are taught.

At some point, two of the guys were going at it and one made a painful type of emission and got up on his knee’s, wild eyed, and had his mouth opened so wide I could have stuck my fist in it.

“What’s the matter Son, I asked?”

With a wide opened mouth he somehow formed words I could barely understand and replied… “I cant close my mouth.”

Shit…

Having a great medical background myself, and a kick ass SEAL corpsman on-site, we were still dumbfounded with the new affliction as we sat him on a Zodiac boat and asked questions while a steady stream of drool ran from his yack pipe.

“Are you in pain?” …”No”…

“This ever happened before?” …”No”…

With the questions getting us nowhere there were few options available except to take him for an X-ray when Mad Dog and I decided to put up the “Bat Signal” and call in the big guns.

With Mad Dog on one phone and myself on the other, we called two different Physicians (not ordinary Physicians either) who are close friends in Maryland and Florida and began to run down the symptoms.

The consensus was to observe him for a while since his airway was fine and he was in no pain.

30 minutes later I decided he needed to go in for a look-see at a treatment facility and I DREADED making the phone call to his Mom and explaining that her Son’s mouth would not close.

As we loaded him in Mad Dogs vehicle for the trip, his mouth all of the sudden snapped shut like a steel trap and we watched a sense of relief come over him.

My sense of relief was greater though.

No ill effects whatsoever, he joined the class and continued training while the mystery of the “Open Mouth” lingers here as one of our strangest occurrences.

An excellent dinner relaxed the guys after a bout of log-PT and the camouflage and concealment exercise began at sunset. Breaking the guys into three groups of six men each, they would sneak up on three SEAL Instructors on a dark night using training knives and techniques they learned during Hand to Hand (H 2 H) to take out the Instructors.

As I watched from the campfire, the Instructors made patrols around the area as the trainees lay in wait for the best time to ambush them.

It didn’t take long…

Breaking sticks, dull thuds as bodies impacted each other, and much screaming of vulgarities between the two groups signaled that a squad had made their move. While my Instructors claimed victory each time, I could clearly see them in the light a couple hours later and each Instructor was smeared with camouflage paint from head to toe from the trainees painted faces.

Seeing all the camouflage paint that stained the Instructors, I believe the trainees held their own and I’d call it a draw…

Planning began for the infamous boat paddle around midnight and the boats were launched. Knowing the guys usually take 30-minutes to accomplish the task, I began to worry around the 50-minute mark and it seemed the guys knew Hell Night would be waiting for them and they were blowing off some extra time.

Slick Bastards… Paybacks a BITCH…

Finally arriving, I questioned the delay and was informed they made a wrong turn on the river. How the Hell you could make a wrong turn is beyond me because the river is pretty much foolproof, just turn right and paddle. The mistake was quickly corrected and reinforced by a beating that had me about to quit and I was the one giving it to them.

Boat tug of war, bear crawls, buddy carries, flight quarters, relay races, and my super sneaky SEAL combat swimmer commando killer mission were a few events the guys enjoyed. They were pushed further than they EVER thought they could be pushed and they ALL said they loved every single minute of it when I asked them later.

THEY LIED… But all are damn proud they did it and kicked MAJOR ASS...

The highlight of Hell Night had to be “Boot Boy.” In the middle of all of it, the entire sole of his boot came off exposing his whole foot. The boots he borrowed from Dad.

Now what?

Well, we tried duck taping it back on as a temporary fix and that lasted a couple minutes. Not normally carrying a spare boot around with us in case this sort of thing happens he toughed it out. Even though he had no sole, he never did take the rest of the useless boot off thinking that may perhaps help.

It kept his sock up anyhow!

As the boats returned a while later and we secured Hell Night, I grabbed one of my Crocs from the house so he wouldn’t have to walk through the gravel carrying the boat.

He gratefully accepted the shoe and slid it on over what was left of his Dads crappy,

Sole-less work boot he was still wearing.

24 –hours after it started it was over and the guys cleaned up and shoved sausage and eggs down their necks while I made arrangements for the grand finale and my gift to them for kicking ASS.

While everyone gets a wild ride down the River with “Jim the Sniper,” I had an extra surprise for them…if they were up for additional excitement. 

They were a strong class and had worked hard. They had been wet for a full day and night in stagnant ponds; mud pits, ditches and spent a lot of that time in the “River from Hell” swimming among the snakes and snapping turtles. 

They were cleaned up, done and looking forward to the Helo ride but I wondered if they could be coaxed back into the water one more time when they didn’t have to.

What would it take after they had been through so much to get them back in that cold River one more time at sunrise?

I pulled them together for one more test and asked, “How’d you guys like to jump from a moving Helo into the River, 10 feet-10 knots?

While I won’t write here the comments, they unanimously and excitedly yelled out for fear of offending someone reading this, THEY WERE F&%KING DOWN FOR SOME OF THAT SHIT… and I had a team of born again Bad Asses.

As “Jim the Sniper” landed, shut down the bird, and briefed the guys on the proper procedures for exiting the Helo, I set up the drop zone and waited for the first pair to come in and drop.

Doing his usual hair-raising flight down the River with the guys, skimming the water at 110 knots and pissing off fishermen, Jim, instead of landing and picking up the next pair, brought them to me instead.

At the end of a dock on the River, I placed the “All Clear” flag signaling him the drop zone was clear as he swept past and signaled the guys to jump and flew empty to get the next pair a mile away.

SPLASH, SPLASH… and the guys rose to the surface and gave me the “Thumbs Up” indicating they were OK.

I really didn’t need the OK signal, as their faces were nothing but teeth from smiles as they rose from the depths of the murky River and all had a MAJOR kick ass time.

Future SEALs one and all… They earned it…

We all slept until 1500 on Sunday after Hell Night and loaded the van for a trip to a nearby classroom for Land Nav Training. Grasping the fundamentals quickly, the class enjoyed free time at the cabin that evening after a kick ass supper and watched a few movies before turning in.

Instructor Cole was waiting early Monday morning for the guys and gave them a punishing PT and sent them back for the Land Nav course that ran until noon and the guys showed they had paid attention during the classes and kicked ass on the course. After lunch, the Skydive Instructor showed up to teach the guys old enough to jump, while I grabbed the “Young Guns” for a recon of the Targets they would assault the next night.

The Young Guns completed detailed sketches and notes of the targets and began formulating a plan with the Squad leaders for the hits the next night.

After chow, Mad Dog took them on their first Night Patrol and much was learned about what SEALs go through moving at night.

It ain’t easy…

For PT on Tuesday, Cole and DJ took them back to the pool (lake) for swim lessons. Issuing the guys fins, they swam to a sandbar in the middle and Cole demonstrated techniques that had given him the reputation as SEAL Teams fastest swimmer.

Cleaned up, we began survival training by teaching the guys butchering of a large animal which would be supper for the class that night before the Mission began. Once done, detailed planning and preparation began for a long night in the swamps and a couple days suffering during the survival and advanced training in the middle of nowhere.

The class leader would take a squad of the “Young Guns” and insert by foot South of the first Target, swim the River, and attempt to get into a position behind the bad guys. The rest of the Platoon would insert by Zodiac Boats and become the main assault force.

Hopefully, with the bad guys directing their attention to the sound of incoming Zodiacs, the Young Guns could quietly pick them off from behind without them knowing they were there and soften up the Target for the Assaulters.

After much time spent trying to get past the sentries, the Class Leader passed the “Code Word” for us to begin the Assault.

Within minutes, a steady stream of dead bad guys and the Platoon guys hit during the fight, began filtering to a safe area as the brawl continued.

A knock down, drag out, the Platoon finally got the upper hand and swept the Target from one end to the other securing it.

As they all got together and shook hands, the bad guys and Platoon began reloading for a couple more games as Mad Dog and I prepped gear for the next Target several miles away.  I blew out a deep breath that all the guys had respected the hard hitting Airsoft weapons and nobody had been injured by a shot taken at too close of a range.

Just as my deep breath went out, I took another deep one in, and ran for cover as some idiot spectator on the Target set off illegal fireworks which were knocked over and incoming rounds streaked across the ground blowing up.

As the brilliant rockets continued for what seem like a lifetime, the guys took cover as they continued to detonate, including one that went inside a truck and blew up.

Safely in the boats, we proceeded to the survival area a few miles distant and made final preparations for Target Two some 2000 meters away from the survival area and a hump from Hell.

The guys moved fast toward the Target around 0200 on Wednesday morning and were making quite a racket. The Peacocks were waiting and I knew they’d start screaming at any moment while a light mist and full moon made the movement memorable.

The other memorable thing was the guy with hiccups that never stopped and got worse the closer we got to the Target.

The guys succeeded in getting on Target without alerting the Peacocks and fanned out for supper quickly. As soon as it began, it was over and the guy’s hauled ass with six chickens and a bag of vegetables they found breaking all records for the fastest “Time On Target.”

They completed the Assault in less than three minutes…   

As the sun rose that morning, a weary bunch began starting fires and preparing the first food they had in over 18 hours. Chickens…

Broken down into Fire Teams, the guys plucked and worked together to get something palatable down their necks, as they’d need their strength that day.

Mad Dog and I sampled all the meals and announced a winner. Their reward was having Mad Dog and me as guests for the meal.

Not much of a reward in the end…

Snares were set for squirrels and survival fishing lines were placed on low hanging branches along the River as they’d have to provide enough chow to sustain themselves and a short while later, we began pulling in fish.

Conserving strength, we had a fire starting challenge with flint and steel. First Fire Team to boil a canteen cup of water was the winner and afterwards we all took a nap in the afternoon heat.

Close to the River, the splashing of a big fish woke me up and we paddled to get the monster. We never knew what it was after breaking the hook but it was huge. We wound up getting plenty of smaller fish and they were cooked and cleaned.

Mad Dog and I returned at sunset with all the weapons and bullets for Advanced Training in the morning. For a few hours around the campfire we sang BUD/S songs and a tired bunch slept through the night with full bellies.