usually “Take an aspirin and run on it.” More than once that advice has been given to a student with a broken leg.
Those who survive Hell Week embark on the second phase of training, land warfare. Stopwatches tick as blindfolded students strip and reassemble a dozen varieties of pistol, assault rifle, and machine gun. Instruction in marksmanship is intense, and students learn long-distance shooting as well as quick kill, fire and maneuver, and counterambush. Hand-to-hand combat, the use of a knife, garrote, and sentry stalking are taught by men who have done it for real. Students study land navigation, small-unit tactics, briefing techniques, and hydrographic and land reconnaissance.
The phase culminates with four weeks on San Clemente Island, where students learn basic and advanced demolitions and conduct a weeklong “war,” reconnoitering and interdicting a variety of targets on the island. Naturally, students train with real explosives and live ammunition.
The final phase of training is diving. Open- and closed-circuit scuba, underwater navigation, the use of underwater mines, maritime reconnaissance, and sneak attacks are taught, as well as the operation of submarine escape trunks.
It’s been said that becoming a SEAL is a calling rather than a vocation. That may be true. BUD/S is not so much a battle of wills but a struggle against oneself. No amount of physical training could be enough to prepare you. Whether you start training as an accomplished triathlete or a professional bowler, you will come to grips with misery. The instructors are always there to push each individual beyond maximum. The battle is always to make a cold, wet, tired, and hungry body take another step, run another mile, or climb another rung of the ladder. Quitting is easy. All you have to do is ring the bell, and the pain will stop. The test is against oneself.
But as difficult as BUD/S is, as many students quit, as almost impossibly difficult as training is made by instructors, it is more difficult in the Teams. BUD/S is practice. SEAL operations in the real world are combat. If a student screws up in BUD/S, he has to hit the surf. If a SEAL screws up on a real-world operation, he gets turned into a pink vapor.
BUD/S has to be difficult. It is imperative that the only men who come into the Teams are those who can be counted on: men who are superbly conditioned, adapted to adversity, and have rigorously demonstrated determination and teamwork. This does not mean BUD/S puts out a bunch of robots. Far from it. This persistence and determination BUD/S inculcates is not blind. SEALs don’t charge machine-gun nests. That’s what the Marine Corps is for. Throughout training, students are taught to fight smart; to attack the enemy where he is weakest, not where he is strongest.
Insertion into an enemy’s backyard may involve a three-mile underwater swim, a parachute jump from an airliner, or a five-day walk across glacier and mountain. Just getting to the target can often be an adventure. Getting out of an operational area with an enraged enemy in pursuit can be a nightmare. It is vital that every operator knows he can count on the man next to him. There is no “I” in “SEAL Team.”
BUD/S is one of the few schools in the United States military where officers and enlisted men train together; the course and curriculum are the same. In the Green Berets, there are separate officer and enlisted courses. At BUD/S, an officer is assigned to oversee each phase of training, but the principal instruction is given by enlisted men. It can reasonably be said that the enlisted men pick the officers who will eventually lead them. It’s not just the weak officers who are culled from training. The imperious, the impulsive, and the reckless will also find it impossible to graduate.
The naval special warfare community is the smallest of all the special operations forces, and the bond between officers and enlisted is tight. Platoons and assault
Those who survive Hell Week embark on the second phase of training, land warfare. Stopwatches tick as blindfolded students strip and reassemble a dozen varieties of pistol, assault rifle, and machine gun. Instruction in marksmanship is intense, and students learn long-distance shooting as well as quick kill, fire and maneuver, and counterambush. Hand-to-hand combat, the use of a knife, garrote, and sentry stalking are taught by men who have done it for real. Students study land navigation, small-unit tactics, briefing techniques, and hydrographic and land reconnaissance.
The phase culminates with four weeks on San Clemente Island, where students learn basic and advanced demolitions and conduct a weeklong “war,” reconnoitering and interdicting a variety of targets on the island. Naturally, students train with real explosives and live ammunition.
The final phase of training is diving. Open- and closed-circuit scuba, underwater navigation, the use of underwater mines, maritime reconnaissance, and sneak attacks are taught, as well as the operation of submarine escape trunks.
It’s been said that becoming a SEAL is a calling rather than a vocation. That may be true. BUD/S is not so much a battle of wills but a struggle against oneself. No amount of physical training could be enough to prepare you. Whether you start training as an accomplished triathlete or a professional bowler, you will come to grips with misery. The instructors are always there to push each individual beyond maximum. The battle is always to make a cold, wet, tired, and hungry body take another step, run another mile, or climb another rung of the ladder. Quitting is easy. All you have to do is ring the bell, and the pain will stop. The test is against oneself.
But as difficult as BUD/S is, as many students quit, as almost impossibly difficult as training is made by instructors, it is more difficult in the Teams. BUD/S is practice. SEAL operations in the real world are combat. If a student screws up in BUD/S, he has to hit the surf. If a SEAL screws up on a real-world operation, he gets turned into a pink vapor.
BUD/S has to be difficult. It is imperative that the only men who come into the Teams are those who can be counted on: men who are superbly conditioned, adapted to adversity, and have rigorously demonstrated determination and teamwork. This does not mean BUD/S puts out a bunch of robots. Far from it. This persistence and determination BUD/S inculcates is not blind. SEALs don’t charge machine-gun nests. That’s what the Marine Corps is for. Throughout training, students are taught to fight smart; to attack the enemy where he is weakest, not where he is strongest.
Insertion into an enemy’s backyard may involve a three-mile underwater swim, a parachute jump from an airliner, or a five-day walk across glacier and mountain. Just getting to the target can often be an adventure. Getting out of an operational area with an enraged enemy in pursuit can be a nightmare. It is vital that every operator knows he can count on the man next to him. There is no “I” in “SEAL Team.”
BUD/S is one of the few schools in the United States military where officers and enlisted men train together; the course and curriculum are the same. In the Green Berets, there are separate officer and enlisted courses. At BUD/S, an officer is assigned to oversee each phase of training, but the principal instruction is given by enlisted men. It can reasonably be said that the enlisted men pick the officers who will eventually lead them. It’s not just the weak officers who are culled from training. The imperious, the impulsive, and the reckless will also find it impossible to graduate.
The naval special warfare community is the smallest of all the special operations forces, and the bond between officers and enlisted is tight. Platoons and assault
Similar Books
