Rolling Thunder (2007) by Jack - Seals 04 Terral Page B

nearest ER. Youthful resilience was on his side, and the medical crew determined he could be brought back to physical normalcy if he were immediately admitted to the hospital to get fluids dripped into him. The treatment would include regular doses of Valium to mellow him out.
    A week later, he was back in his home in Boston. The family physician recommended that he stay out of school for the rest of the year. If he regained his ability to deal with the real world by the following September, he could reenter Yale and resume his studies. From that point on, Chadwick Murchi-son's existence consisted of sitting around and moping while barely eating. His days were spent at his bedroom window, sprawled in a recliner and staring out over the broad expanse of the back lawn that flowed down to Lake Saint Michael.
    This lethargic style of a miserable existence went on for a bit more than a month before a spark suddenly ignited deep in his psyche. It wasn't a flash of intellect or realization; it was a burst of bald, naked anger. Chad may have been a little skinny guy with two left feet, but one thing he had inside was an instinctive courage and fighting spirit. It took this emotional disaster to fuel that inner self that had been smothered by the good life. It was nine o'clock in the morning when he impetuously got out of the chair and marched down to the kitchen, where the staff was going about their usual routine. Chad announced he wanted three eggs over easy, a half-dozen sausage links, a big pile of fried potatoes, and no less than four croissants with butter and jam.
    After stuffing himself, he went back to his room and shucked the pajamas and bathrobe. He put on his jogging duds, went downstairs, out the front door, and began a run through the plush neighborhood. He had to stop once to throw up the enormous breakfast in his stuffed belly; then he continued the circuit.
    And thus began a hard-ass, self-imposed program of roadwork, lifting weights, swimming laps in the family's Olympic-size indoor pool, and punching a heavy bag. The latter workout was particularly vigorous since he imagined the inoffensive target of his fists as Cliff Armbrewster, the jock who had taken Penny Brubaker away from him.
    Then the decision that was to really change his life was made while watching television. The Arts and Entertainment Channel showed an hour-long program on the U.S. Navy SEALs. The next day, Chad presented himself at the recruiting office in Cambridge and signed on for a four-year hitch, volunteering for the SEALs. The petty officer recruiter took one look at the skinny kid and figured he would never make it through much more than about five minutes of Hell Week. But the sailor had a quota to meet, so he signed the young volunteer up.
    Chad went to Boot Camp at the Naval Training Center in Great Lakes, Illinois. He came out of those weeks about five pounds heavier, but still skinny. From there, he went to Class A School, where he was given specialized training to qualify him for a disbursement clerk's rating to work in the Navy's financial department. When that was finished, the eager young sailor put in for the SEALs. In order to make it to BUD/S, he had to pass a physical fitness test. In spite of Boot Camp, he barely squeaked by. The pull-ups were particularly tough, and his little arms fairly trembled with the effort before he got out the required number. The run, on the other hand, was a piece of cake. He fairly flew around the course, completing the mandatory distance with time to spare.
    When he showed up at the Naval Amphibious Base in Coronado, California, the BUD/S instructors couldn't believe the runt had actually passed the qualifying tests. But eventually, they recognized the big heart in the little guy. He gave it his all, still going when larger, more muscular candidates caved in. His slight frame turned out to be advantageous during underwater free-swimming sessions, since the kid didn't need a lot of oxygen and his