Free Battle Ready: Memoir of a SEAL Warrior Medic by Mark L. Donald, Scott Mactavish

macerated skin and icing joints, earning me the title of “Mom” from our First Phase proctor Phil Jannuzzi. I never cared for that nickname but made sure no one knew. Otherwise it would have been permanent; thankfully, “Mom” ended with the First Phase, along with over 70 percent of our original class.
    Every few years the navy invests more time and money trying to improve the number of graduates from SEAL training. Over the years I’ve watched class sizes fluctuate from under a hundred students to well over two hundred. I’ve seen the Naval Special Warfare Center try to double the number of classes per year and make continual changes regarding the length and location of pretraining regimes. Yet the number of SEALs produced per year never changed. Don’t get me wrong. These are all appropriate measures, and at the very least, they physically prepare candidates far better than in my day and prevent folks from receiving orders to training that shouldn’t be there. Nevertheless, after spending nearly a quarter of a century in and around Naval Special Warfare as both a SEAL and a medical officer, I find it hard to believe that any of these actions are ever going to improve the numbers. The number of SEALs isn’t based on the percentage of candidates that attend BUD/S but on the percentage of a specific type of man that exists in relation to our country’s overall population.
    During the first week of pretraining, also known as Fourth Phase, intentionally placed ahead of First Phase so not to disturb the historic numbering of each phase of training, each of us went through a psychological screening process. Back then the navy tried to find a way to identify candidates who displayed all the right attributes and had those qualities at the level necessary to graduate training, but I believe it’s impossible to measure the amount of fire in a man through a written test or series of interviews. In fact, I no longer believe the navy makes SEALs at all. In my mind the navy can only assist in identifying the right candidates through recruiting and, once established, provide them with a means to prove themselves to serve among the nation’s best.
    SEALs are a unique blend of physical strength, academic intelligence, mental tenacity, and unwavering commitment. Their dedication to the mission and their teammates is unimaginable to most Americans. Despite the navy going to great lengths to continually educate these men on everything from the art of war to moral responsibility, their ethical and patriotic foundation was laid long before the navy had anything to do with it. Their family, friends, neighbors, teachers, coaches, and others close to them throughout their youth played a greater role in instilling these characteristics than the navy ever could during the short period of time it had them at boot camp or Officer Candidate School. It’s not a matter of possessing the right traits but, rather, the degree to which those traits exist within the man. There’s only one way to find out: BUD/S. It is the navy’s litmus test for commitment. Therefore, it’s my belief that BUD/S doesn’t make SEALs; it only validates a man’s dedication to joining them.

7
    BREAKOUT
    We do not rise to the level of our expectations.
    We fall to the level of our training.
    — SOMETIMES ATTRIBUTED TO A RCHILOCHUS
    It would start in a matter of hours: the noise, chaos, confusion, and pain of Hell Week. The tension was thick in the barracks, and the base was secured around the SEAL training area; except for a few patrons at the gas station and our coveted minimart, there wasn’t a soul around. Soon the class would be completely cut off from the outside world. We could see the tourists on Coronado’s pristine beaches and the motorists driving along on the Silver Strand, but that didn’t seem to matter too much. We all knew what was coming; we would soon be in hell for five and a half days, and the outside world would cease to exist. We welcomed