MAY COURSE DEBRIEF
The party began Friday for the quietest, most boring class we ever had as they arrived and got acquainted. After briefing, inflating boats and a great supper, the dull bunch slept soundly through the night.
Well, maybe some of them did
Most stared at the cabin and bunkhouse ceiling until the wee hours of the morning wondering what all SEALs preparing for Hell Week had wondered before them.
Do I have what it takes? Will I make it?
After a morning stretch, the guys began the SEAL PFT with a chilly dip in the pool after a safety brief concerning what to do if attacked by a Gar, Snapping Turtle and the dreaded Mud Puppy, which are numerous and call the pool home.
None had ever done the PFT in open water before and the times for most were kinda shitty. Without lane markers or lines on the bottom of the pool to follow most were turning a 500m swim into 600m by not being able to swim a straight line from point A to point B.
Why do that? In BUD/S and SEAL Team there are no lane markers. Its the ocean boys, and you need to be able to swim straight!
Figuring the mud would put a smile on the expressionless faces, we were again wrong and started to wonder if they were all on drugs. Who doesnt like the tar pits, the Gladiatorial Arena and a host of other games and events we do? These guys thats who, and as Instructors, we just stared and wondered if we should administer urinalysis tests.
They started showing some signs of life after lunch during the Hand 2 Hand. With numerous combat tours in Afghanistan and Iraq between them, Instructor Ryan and Luke showed them how it was done. With mixed martial arts and combat knives, they enjoyed a four hour pounding, bone jarring session that they all chewed some dirt doing and the knock down, drag out brawl brought out some personality in a class that we werent sure had any teeth as they never smiled and answered questions with only one or two words.
We soon figured out what the problem was when we began Log PT and individuals began turning into team players. Soaked in sweat and covered in snot, the guys began turning into something, as they gritted teeth and finished strong.
Faces covered in camouflage paint and briefed on the nights mission, new life flowed into the tired bunch as the mission required Taking out the Instructors.
Do we take them out as a class, they asked? NO, as pairs I replied, two trainees on each Instructor.
In the darkness, all I saw were teeth as smiles went from ear to ear on each man. We had a class of brawlers and after the beating they took during the day we were surprised they wanted another one that night as Ryan and Luke werent going down easy and they knew it.
Sneaking in close and pouncing on the instructors seemed the choice method for the trainees as I listened to branches breaking, air being forced from lungs and dull thuds signaling another group had made a move and the fight was on.
Back at the Cabin we briefed the Round the World boat paddle at Midnight. The guys knew Hell Night would be over by sunrise but what surprises did we have waiting they wondered?
They didnt have long to wait as Doctor Pain was waiting at the half way point when they arrived and Hell Night, as bad as it was during the day, was about to turn exceptionally ugly for the rest of the night and the guys were about to be tested like no class before them as the temperatures dropped to unseen levels for Virginia in May.
IT GOT F****IN COLD, and the water had not warmed up much either since the April Class suffered in it.
Surf Torture, Rocking Chairs, Boat Tug of Wars, Dump Boat Drills and Swimmer Recons, we saw the guys Jack Hammer from the cold like a winter BUD/S Class as steam rose from the water and their wet bodies like clouds of smoke.
These guys had it bad and they pulled together and held fast.
At 2 am we had a class we couldnt touch and nothing we would do to them mattered. My preaching all day long about Not Giving a Shit finally sunk into drained minds and we couldnt hurt them any longer. They were too strong, too tight, and none of them cared anymore. They just didnt give a shit.
Not giving a shit is a hallmark of guys who survive Hell Week in BUD/S and become SEALs and we teach guys how to do it here.
Not giving a Shit is not a bad attitude, you just dont care anymore and a skill mastered by very few people on the planet. You stop caring how bad you hurt, you dont care how cold the water is, you dont care about carrying the boat anymore, you dont care lifting the log or lack of sleep. Guys realize everything ends and they become robotic and just do whats required and ignore discomfort. Simply put, they dont give a Shit.
The bottom line: Guys who give a Shit fail and guys who dont succeed, and I was very proud to have a class of guys who stopped giving a shit.
As a final test to reinforce the giving a shit, we rested the class Nut to Butt so they could stay warm and played Ray Charles Georgia" and other mood music choices to relax and calm them allowing the adrenaline pump to stop flowing. 30 minutes later the bullhorns blared obscenities and back in the cold water they went.
As we watched them in the cold water on a dark night unaffected by our attempt to break them, I quietly discussed with the other instructors Whats the point of continuing any longer?
They all answered Were just wasting our time with these guys, mission accomplished, lets end it.
I made the final call and decided to secure Hell Night at the earliest I had ever done if they completed one final challenge, getting the boats back faster than they got them here. Time to beat, 29 minutes
Blowing breaths of steam 3 feet from each mouth they accepted the same challenge the last class did as paddles churned the water into froth and squad leaders screamed STROKE, STROKE, STROKE as they hauled ass out of sight for the extraction.
We waited in the house with a hot cup of coffee as the radio crackled and the class leader passed to me the Code Word Betty meaning they had made their turn at the half way point and had entered the pitch dark, snake filled canal for the home stretch.
I checked my stopwatch, looked at the other instructors, and announced Holy Shit.
As Mad Dog and I headed for the finish line we stepped out of the way of a fast moving car on the dark country road and saw it was a State Trooper hauling ass.
Strange we thought, something bad must be going on.
As the guys touched the bank at the finish I checked my stopwatch. Time to beat 29 minutes, time of arrival 25:06 and a record was set. As I secured Hell Night and passed a very sincere Well Done to the cheering trainees I was hit by the beam of a flashlight on the dark river and quickly realized it was the Trooper and the something bad he was looking for was me.
As I introduced myself, he explained that someone had reported a car accident and heard people screaming.
The car accident and people screaming were they guys yelling STROKE on the River so loudly. So loudly in fact, their voices penetrated a mile of thick wood and swamps and woke soundly sleeping people up.
Thats being Fired Up, and a mindset to WIN.
I explained who the guys were and what we were doing so early in the morning and the Trooper replied, My brothers a SEAL and Im signed up for youre e-mail list and want to come for a course.
Small World Come on down Trooper. With the things we do here, I need all the Cop friends I can get!!!
We secured Hell Night and I announced the class Honor Man who was a spry 59 year old pipe swinging Irishman from Maine and a true inspiration for all the guys. Tough
The Class Leader was a young bad ass preparing for BUD/S after college next year that broke his hand a few hours into Hell Night. Taking him for treatment, he somehow talked the Doc into not casting his hand so he could continue Hell Night and only setting the bone and splinting it promising he would not use it.
He insisted on staying and I allowed it saying Id kill him if he broke it again. He found a way to do each evolution including taking out the Instructors that night with one hand as well as some modified Log PT with me hounding him each time he tried to use it and we could all tell he meant to push it and finish strong.
Checking his hand that morning it was too swollen to tell and he endured Land Nav and PT with Matto doing Flutter Kicks instead of Push-Ups. With the swelling finally down, I unwrapped and could feel the broken bone again. Not being able to shoot accurately or parachute he finally elected to get fixed and return for another course later this year.
Leadership is not letting the guys youre in charge of down. Broken hand, he would have rather broke it again and endured the pain than just met the minimum standards and allow others to pull his weight.
We look forward to seeing him again here and BUD/S will get a damn good man.
The guys met Jim the Sniper and got all SEAL Sniper questions answered. Jack came down for a visit as the President of the SEAL Association and a graduate of Class 30. Mark, the SEAL Recruiter, answered questions and helped administer the SEAL PRT. Bill showed up and squared the guys away for BUD/S.
Bill, with a 27 year career in SPECWAR did three tours as a BUD/S instructor and answered all questions and gave out valuable tips. As Training continued through the week, a pile more Frogmen would show up to motivate and answer questions and Matto would grind some gears during PT.
The Training would end that week with Patsy Dietz giving the guys one final Pump as she described how her husband Danny Dietz fought Valiantly and was killed in Afghanistan with his small Team and written about in the Lone Survivor book. AWESOME
A bunch of Wall Flowers started Hell Night and a Team of Bad Asses finished. Theyd need that attitude, as the Survival Training in a few days was going to test each man again as the Rain Gods would smile and Mother Nature dropped the temperatures to obscene levels as She would bend the Class over and slam home Her FURY.
The Helo arrived on Sunday at 0630 and Jim the Sniper gave them a kick ass ride down the River where most would spend much of the remaining week in the thick woods and swamps.
If I would have had a Crystal Ball, we would have stayed in bed with the covers over our heads, as the Survival Course a few days later would test us all and get down right UGLY
The guys slept until 1500 on Sunday after Hell Night and we traveled a short distance for the Land Nav Class where they learned Map and Compass and had the rest of the night off after a great supper. Kicking back in the Cabin, the guys relaxed watching SEAL videos before falling into a deep sleep.
Theyd need it, as Matto would be waiting at 0630 for PT and the guys would walk through the BUD/S compound and see how a BUD/S PT felt.
It doesnt feel good, but a wake up call as what to expect once there and very necessary to get guys through the Toughest Military Training in the World. and part of the experience here as we get guys ready.
As the ragged bunch returned from Mattos PT they cleaned up and had breakfast while Mad Dog was waiting to brief the Compass Course and Points were plotted. With a Drop Dead time of 1200, the guys kicked ass and most had little trouble finding the Points in the dense Forest and showed they paid attention after a tough 24-hours.
After lunch the guys got their issue of weapons and equipment for the remainder of training. Binos, knives, rucksack, hammock, poncho, fire starters, canteens, extra cammies and some warm clothes.
The warm clothes were a nice touch, and at this time of the year would just be used to help keep the mosquitoes at bay we thought.
We were wrong!
The guys from Skydive Suffolk gave a jump class that afternoon for the guys old enough to jump. I took the young guys who could not jump on a Recon of the Targets they would hit the next night and they became the Eyes and Ears for the Platoon.
They drew pictures and added size and distance of the Targets. The Platoon would plan from the Intell the young guys brought back and doing a poor job would mean failure as the young guys had to Paint a Picture for the others and not an easy task to do.
With no help from me, the young guys kicked ass and planning began for a long night of assaults on tough targets and foraging for food in the Virginia Swamps the next day.
Monday ended with a tough night Hump through the blacked out Forest with Mad Dog at Midnight and tired Warriors caught some quick sleep before Instructor Luke showed up and released the PT Demon inside him a few hours later.
No rest for the weary
As Luke finished a pounding PT Tuesday morning, I called the guys around for the beginning of the Survival Course and quickly killed a Goat and passed around a canteen cup of blood for the guys. They learned Hands On how to butcher a large animal, most for the first time. We teach SURVIVAL here, and none of its pretty, but in SEAL Team, the guys can expect much more, and as a small commando unit, we do whatever it takes to come home alive.
They passed the meat to Diane for her to prepare a late lunch and planning/prep began for the Assaults that night.
We launched the boats at sunset and two Zodiacs full of cammied Frogmen proceeded up the North West River to our first Target miles away, ready to kick the shit out of the more experienced OPFOR (opposing forces) defending the targets.
We had a surprise for the bad guys!
We took the three young guys and told them they would disguise themselves and deliver pizza to the OPFOR on the target. After handing the pizzas out, the driver would return to his vehicle, draw his weapon, and the two other hidden in the trunk would spring into action and shoot as many as they could while Mad Dog and I hit the target from side two with the rest of the Platoon from boats.
The Booger Eaters on the target would never expect this coming
In route to the target, I received a call from the pizza guys saying they had been compromised and we needed to change the plan. Seems the OPFOR arrived early and decided to swing by my place to check things out and saw the guy who would deliver the pizza and the vehicle he would be driving. THEY CHEATED, and we had to change the plan.
Diane, while a hell of a cook and Mother to all coming through the courses, also doubles as a last minute Fix Things kinda Gal and she put together a new plan with a different vehicle and a different driver that lived locally and had gone through the last course in April.
I received the call the pizza guys were READY
As the platoon paddled in close and watched the OPFOR through binos, we finalized the plan and I ordered the pizzas delivered. The word was passed to me that the pizzas were delivered and at the briefed time of 30 seconds after that, I fired a flare skyward and Mad Dog and I pulled the engines to life and hauled ass to the target as OPFOR guys ran for cover, mouths stuffed with pepperoni and mozzarella cheese.
I hit the North side and Mad Dog the South. While my insertion point was empty and quiet, Mad Dog landed in a Hornets Nest of bad guys and as BBs pounded Mad Dogs head and body he yelled for his guys to jump into the water and the fight was on.
My guys moved closer to the action and realized quickly that the bad guys had no idea we were there and behind them. With the element of surprise, the guys moved to help their buddies to the South and began cleaning up. Shortly, we had everyone together as a stream of bad guys who were out of the fight, flowed to a safe area as we began our final sweep.
The guys did a fantastic job staying arm to arm, weapons at the ready, and they picked off the remaining bad guys from concealed positions moving steadily. As we neared the end, one final bad guy made the mistake of shooting at close range hidden in the tall grass and all thirteen weapons from the Platoon opened up with a LONGGGG burst of accurate fire as the bad guy screamed HIT, HIT, HIT
Turns out, the final bad guy was a young woman, and she wont soon forget that night
The Platoon and Bad Guys shook hands and laughed for a while before beginning a few pick up games with each other as Mad Dog and I prepared the boats for the next target.
An hour and a half later and nearing Midnight, we began our run up the River to the distant target as rain began to fall and the temperatures began to drop.
Damn
Arriving at the Survival/Safe Area, we began our patrol to the second target 2000m away as heavy rains fell and the guys sloshed through mud and knee high water that made the hump difficult. The Platoon had a great plan for the Raid and had done all its planning from the Intel the young guys brought back.
If the plan went bad, theyd go hungry. It was all up to them now.
Nearing the target, I told the Point Man and Patrol Leader to slow down as we were nearing the point where the Peacocks busted the last class. We were 300m away and a short distance later the screaming birds were awake and raising Hell.
We were busted again.
Time on Target was more critical than ever now. With a good plan, the guys moved into position and the Patrol Leader signaled them to begin. Mad Dog and I watched the Platoon Fan Out quickly to briefed positions like an experienced SEAL Platoon and the Raid was on.
Less than 5 minutes later it was over and the Platoon collapsed and hauled ass, dragging a few chickens and some vegetables they found with them.
WELL DONE, and even if they had woke up anyone in the houses trying to quite the noisy chickens, they moved off the target so fast, that the guys inside didnt even have time to put their pants on.
We headed back to the Safe Area in the rain and the guys finally got their heads down just after 4am, as tired Warriors got in their Jungle Hammocks and tried to stay warm until sunrise.
FAT F***IN CHANCE
It got cold, and the wet Bad Asses shivered without sleep waiting for a sunrise that would bring warmth and lift spirits in the exhausted, hungry bunch.
FAT F***IN CHANCE
At sunrise, the chilly Platoon started fires using survival flints and got warm for the first time in many cold hours. Building the fires high, they removed socks and wet boots and began drying them as the guys laughed and regaled the previous nights events.
They began dividing the food taken that night between the Fire Teams and planning how to prepare the bounty, as a warm meal would go a long way to lift spirits and much work needed done finding more food for the next two days.
In the middle of the high-fives and camaraderie, all heads looked skyward as Mother Nature was wearing a strap-on that morning and heavy rains began to fall with high winds as She bent the guys over.
Pulling out ponchos, the guys strung them up and moved the fires in close trying to keep them going. Rain and all, they began plucking and cleaning chickens, trying to get a meal going as Mad Dog and I moved between the three groups and all three had a different recipe they would try as a good meal goes along way toward improving moral.
In the end, Mad Dog and I tried all three meals of spit roasted and stewed chicken soup and the guys had a great meal as the rains subsided and smiles appeared.
Well, some smiles appeared, as the third Fire Team boiled a vat of River water and chicken that had the color of tea and tasted like complete ass.
The third Fire Team was dubbed The Leper Colony and the rest of the superstitious Platoon stayed away from their hard luck camp yelling occasional insults toward their position.
Mad Dog took half the group to set squirrel snares and I took the others to set fish lines from tree branches on the River. An hour or so later, the groups switched and as I was preparing to set more lines I could see the first ones we set shaking the branches of trees and we began pulling in really nice Bowfin that had taken the bait.
Bowfin, are a nasty looking, slimy, prehistoric fish with plenty of meat. Loosing as many of the big fish as we got trying to get them in the boat, we ended up with five big ones and a few small pan fish to sustain us for the rest of the course.
Throughout the afternoon, Mad Dog gave updated weather reports. Were fine, he said, looks like temps in the 60s tonight.
A few hours later Were fine, looks like temps in the 50s tonight.
Finally, he delivered the bad news with Were fine, temps in the 40s tonight and we braced for shock and made adjustments.
There was no way the guys could sleep in the hammocks and stay warm. Theyd have to go to ground and keep the fires going through the night.
As darkness fell, the guys had a belly full of Bowfin and turned in as Fire Team One sang a song from Journey loudly and laughed.
Theyd need that motivation, as the night would get tough and each man wanted to strangle the local weatherman as the temps dropped to obscene levels for May in Virginia, and the wet guys would suffer with little or no sleep.
In the middle of the night, most ran out of wood for the fires and the cracking of branches and dragging of trees rang out loud all night long as they adjusted shelters and tried to direct heat into them as guys cuddled close for warmth.
As tough as things were, one of the guys knocked over a canteen in his sleep getting him wet and adding misery. In typical SEAL fashion, the water drained down the back of the guy next to him and each enjoyed the accident.
What are friends for?
The next morning brought a pile of bodies scattered, with many sleeping as close and curled around the fire as they could get. Burned boots, hats and socks lined the campsites as we prepared for the Advanced Training that day.
Tired, wet and cold, the Platoon would need to shake some life into each other as we would break out a pile of weapons and shoot the place silly in a couple hours.
This was the time to put on a game face and suck it up; anyone doping off and not paying attention during the shooting would endanger himself and others.
Spilling a canteen is one thing, shooting a buddy, well, thats something else
I left Thursday morning early taking out one of the guys who was just doing Platoon Training for his flight home and to get the weapons and ammo for the range evolutions. As we talked making the river run in the Zodiac he was shaking silly from being so cold as the sun rose and the river was covered in an eerie mist.
I proceeded back and was regaled with an encounter the guys had checking the snares about a large rattlesnake. With many stepping over the cold creature before someone saw it we lucked out as the lifeless snake only wanted to get warm like the guys. The huge serpent was left unharmed for the next class.
Moving to the shooting area, Mad Dog and I briefed the guys on safety and shooting skills. With so many of the guys never having touched a gun before AND tired, we moved slow and safely and steadily picked up speed throughout the day getting more aggressive as the class had a Game Face and we knew we could ramp up the training.
Its all on the Class here and Mad Dog and I will push guys well out of their comfort zones if they maintain focus and work as a Team. The Class was strong and Switched On and we did some dynamic shooting that day with all the guys doing very well.
Seems every class we do, the guys with zero experience do better than the guys with experience. Beginners luck
Point Man and shotgun courses, .45 and 9mm pistols, we ended with a couple Sniper rifles and had some of the guys shoot exploding targets and called it a day after six or seven hours and extracted in the boats.
Once home, gear was cleaned and Diane fed them like fat men. Free time in the pool that night and a good sleep. Wed be up early for a drive to the drop zone and throw the guys out of a plane at 14,000 feet.
Mad Dog and I drank way too much coffee as we always do before the jumps and had the guys pumped as we knew with so many jumps between us, how the guys would feel when the side door opened on the aircraft and the Oooo Shit, here we GO thing happens.
A really Cool thing about being in a SEAL Platoon is that no matter how apprehensive you might get before doing something with Hair On It, so many other guys are not and fired up to put it on the line. Its very contagious and soon you get Jacked Up and kick ass with the others.
While we may have had a few guys worried about jumping it didnt last long with me and Mad Dog bouncing around and the Jump Instructors slapping the guys backs telling them how Cool this would be.
I kept the young guys out front as much as I could all week to make up for missing the jump. I had one more surprise for them and it came in the form of an old pilot named Mike.
Mike was a Vietnam Vet pilot and an aggressive flyer. The young guys would fly up with Mike and video the guys jumping. Mike gets the plane up fast to altitude, but he brings it down a lot quicker. As the final guy leaves the plane, Mike noses it over like a roller coaster straight down, except instead of a couple hundred feet and perhaps fifty miles an hour on a roller coaster, Mikes moving much faster and at 14,000 feet as warning lights flash and the computer screams PULL UP, PULL UP
Its a white-knuckle flight and hopefully made it up to the young guys who all got on the ground with big smiles.
A beautiful day and with all the jumps completed, Mad Dog and I enjoyed a quiet ride home as the adrenaline began to wear off and the guys heads bobbed in sleep.
Free time in the pool as guys swam in the pond and waited for the graduation party to begin. SEALs began arriving and steaks were burned on the grill. Chris, who went through Hell Night, sent a case of fresh Maine Lobsters and with all the food Diane had, the guys ate like Fat Men.
The guys weighed themselves on a big scale at the drop zone and all had lost 7-10 pounds through the tough week.
Instructor Ryan and Bill the BUD/S Instructor had a crowd of eager guys getting in last minute questions. Guys get so much bullshit about SEALS and BUD/S training on the internet, but with all the SEALs we had through the week, its a huge help to get the straight skinny on any SEAL or BUD/S question you ever need answered. STRAIGHT FROM THE SOURCE. With over 200 years of combined experience amongst all the retired and active duty SEALS here that week, no question went unanswered.
We moved the guys to the porch of the Cabin and had them sit down as we had one more surprise for them in the shape of one of the most beautiful women on the planet; Patsy Dietz, whos husband Danny was killed during a reconnaissance mission in the mountains of Afghanistan and written about in the book Lone Survivor.
Patsy captivated the silent crowd as she described getting the knock on the door from Navy officials informing her that Danny had been killed. She also talked about feeling better after speaking with Marcus Luttrell and hearing how bravely they had all fought for so many hours against a determined enemy who quickly realized they were not fighting any ordinary soldiers; they were fighting four Navy SEALs who inflicted maximum damage and WERE IN IT, TO WIN IT.
She proudly told the guys of how Danny kept getting hit by small arms fire and continued the fight. Nine bullet wounds to his body and hours later, he was struck in the head by the tenth round and killed. Danny was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross for Valor with his many other combat decorations.
The guys finished up the night speaking with Patsys dad Nick, a SEAL Master Chief just back from a deployment overseas.
As the guests filtered out and Diane, Mad Dog and myself called it a night, we left the Cabin to the guys for a final night. At clean up the next morning, we enjoyed videos of the practical jokes they played on each other after we left that night and laughter filled the Cabin.
At the airport the dull guys who showed up a week before had become big buddies and were part of a Team forever, trading e-mail addresses, phone numbers and slapping backs.
They figured out soon after getting home and telling stories from a tough week that no one really understands what they went through. You can tell them, but until the listener has also done it, they will NEVER understand how bad it was or why someone would do something that was so hard.
Guess what boys, theyll understand even less when you become SEALs.
A strong class changed forever through adversity. Ill see you guys in the Teams
WELL DONE Class 05/08, very well done
Kick Some Ass Don