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Showing posts from October, 2008

Quitter

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I quit. I quit at the "Steel Pier" on the first night of Hell Week. Sailors have filthy mouths. I can attest to that. In the Special Warfare community, however, there's no dirtier word than "quitter." Like everything else in the Navy, there's an official term for what I did: Drop on Request or DOR. But have no doubt, I was a quitter. Class 187's Hell Week started in early November 1992 with a pizza party and video on Sunday afternoon. By majority vote, the class chose to watch Point Break with Patrick Swayze. Horrible movie, but it didn't much matter -- it was hard to concentrate on the movie knowing that in just a few hours Hell Week would kick off. It must have been around 7 p.m. or so when the party ended and we were moved to the beach. A couple large military tents had been constructed right on the beach, complete with cots for the 60 or so guys still left in Class 187. We all laid back on the cots fully clothed and the instructors ordered us to

Class 187

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Bob loved his hair. That's what I remember most about our class-up party. The class-up party is a BUD/S tradition. On the weekend before your class starts First Phase, there's a kegger on the beach which is open to the BUD/S instructors. The one mainstay of the class-up party is the haircut. The classmates take turns shaving each others' heads. I didn't mind, but Bob was not very excited about it. He had no choice though. It was the beginning of what would be a tumultuous five weeks culminating in our own personal Super Bowl: Hell Week. Before I continue, though, a caveat. These posts aren't meant to be an in-depth source of information about BUD/S per se. This is a memoir about my personal experiences and development. BUD/S was a significant part of that, but if you want to know the ins and outs of BUD/S, there are now lots of other sources available. The best is probably the video series done by the Discovery Channel: Navy SEALS: BUDS Class 234 . It's also av

The Games Begin

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I had been training so hard for so long that I thought the day would never come -- that something would prevent me from going to BUD/S . I had worried that perhaps I'd injure myself, or that the doctors at boot camp would find some kind of disqualifying physical defect, or there'd be some kind of bureaucratic SNAFU with my paperwork. Something, I'd thought, would get in my way. But after almost a month of vacation back in San Jose with Elaine after graduating from intelligence training, Bob called me at home. Bob had gone to Florida to see his family after graduation. He'd bought a truck there and then drove west to pick me up. The next day, I loaded my sea bag into Bob's new truck and we headed south from San Jose on an eight hour drive to San Diego and Naval Amphibious Base Coronado . The only part of that long drive that I remember is getting our first glimpse of the Coronado Bay Bridge , which spans the San Diego Bay, linking San Diego proper with Coronado. Bob

Navy Intelligence

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The Navy base at Dam Neck was home not just to the intelligence training school, but also to a more innocuous sounding command named Naval Special Warfare Development Group (NAVSPECWARDEVGRU or "DevGru" for short). To those who followed such things, DevGru was known to be the official name of SEAL Team Six, the most elite SEAL unit, then tasked with anti-terrorism and hostage rescue duties, among other things. Operators within DevGru referred to other SEAL units as "junior varsity." Everyday, as we marched to and from our classes, we heard a steady stream of weapons fire emanating from the DevGru compound, which was located on a remote and restricted section on the other side of the base . Then, one day, one of the DevGru "varsity" squad decided that he was going to start leading our lame PT sessions. I'll call this guy "Don." Don, it turned out, was married to one of our instructors at intelligence school . She had suggested that he get inv

In The Navy

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Boot camp was a shock. As my recruiter foretold, I very quickly began to wonder whether I had made a huge mistake. It started in January 1992 with a long day of processing in Oakland, California, followed by an evening flight to Orlando, Florida, and more long hours of processing. By the time I had been assigned to boot camp company 66 and finally climbed into my new bed (in an open hall with 80 or so others), it was almost sun up. Our instructors came in shortly thereafter, banging garbage cans and shouting. Thus began a long, long week of haircuts, shots, bad food, more paperwork, folding clothes, and lots of marching. Then the weekly cycle started all over again. Slowly, though, I got my sea legs. Key was meeting my good friend Marshall, who quickly became "Mars" to me. Mars stood out from the other guys in our company -- that is, he looked physically fit. No wonder. It turned out that Mars wanted to be a Navy SEAL, too. Not only that, but he was also slated to attend int

Rememberance

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A couple of nights ago, I watched Rob Reiner's great film The Princess Bride on TV with my 15 year old son. We'd, of course, seen it before. But it's one of those rare films that's just as fun to watch a second (and third) time. It also brings back fond memories for me. The first time that I saw The Princess Bride was at Guru's house, perhaps 20 years ago. When I think of my fondest memories of Guru, I don't think of my own best meditations or times when Guru showed me special attention. Instead, I remember the more intimate and human interactions that I had with my master. I remember, for example, going for a run one Saturday morning in New York. No sooner had I begun when Databir pulled up alongside me in his car. Guru was sitting in the front seat, and he motioned for me to get in. Soon, we were heading over the 59th Street Bridge into Manhattan. I don't remember who we were waiting for (or for what reason), but Databir parked near the United Nations

Berkeley

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In the fall of 1991, I got word that Guru was going to give a concert on the campus of U.C. Berkeley. By then I had dropped out of my final semester of junior college and had moved out of my dad's and step-mom's house in Morgan Hill and into a one-bedroom apartment with Elaine in San Jose. My training was going well and I had just a few short months until I was to ship off to Navy boot camp. It had been almost two years since I'd seen Guru last, and with the prospect of four years in the Navy ahead of me, I wasn't sure when I'd get another chance. So, I decided to make the hour-and-a-half drive north to the concert. As I recall, there was some concern inside the Center that anti-cult protesters might disrupt the concert because U.C. Berkeley was Sumati's base of operations. I must have heard that information from either my brother or my sister, both of whom were still in the Center. And for all I knew, perhaps Sumati's presence in Berkeley was the very rea

Delayed Entry Program

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The Navy recruiter in Gilroy, California was happy for another body. He quickly arranged for me to spend two days up in Oakland. On day one, I would take the Armed Forces Vocational Aptitude Test or " ASVAB ." On day two, I would take a physical, sign up for a specialty, and be sworn into the Navy (though I wouldn't necessarily go to boot camp right away). Shortly before going, I sprung the idea on Elaine for the first time. I'm not entirely sure why I had kept the idea of joining the Navy to myself, but at least in part it was because I felt that if I didn't say it aloud, then I wasn't really committed. In any event, Elaine was naturally surprised, but took my disclosure in stride. On the appointed day, the recruiter gave me a ride up to Oakland and dropped me off for testing and processing. Though I didn't get my scores immediately, I knew by the end of day one that I had nailed the ASVAB. I then went back to the shabby hotel the Navy put me and the ot

A Plan Develops

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By the end of the summer (1990), I'd had my fill of the front desk duties at the YMCA and all the members' dirty towels. So, I enrolled in the Y's lifeguard certification course. The Y was a small community and I had already become friends with the other guards, and I had been swimming a lot on my own, so the course, while challenging, was also fun. Shortly after passing it, I began taking on lifeguard hours and lessening my front desk role. Then, after the new year (1991), Elaine and I flew to Houston, where her parents live. While the suburbs of Houston leave a lot to be desired, Elaine's parents lived in a nice, tree-lined neighborhood, and in a nice sized house (where I was given my own room). Elaine's mother had been a stay-at-home mom and her father was an engineer. They were very hospitable and we all got along quite well. Elaine and I stayed at least a week and about halfway through our trip, I had a Eureka moment. Elaine's mom took us to a large bookst

A Visit to New York

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For the remainder of the spring and summer of 1990, I continued my general education studies at Gavilan Junior College , working at the YMCA, and best of all, seeing Elaine. At the time, Elaine lived with a couple of girlfriends in Fremont and we spent an increasing amount of time together. From the start of our relationship, I was quite open with Elaine about my background in the Center, and my lack of experience in other matters. So, when Elaine suggested that we take a trip back East to Washington, D.C. and Boston to see her old George Washington University roommates, I suggested we also make a detour through Queens to have dinner with some old Center friends. Elaine was all for it. My idea -- strikingly naive as I think about it now -- was that Elaine and I would fly into JFK, rent a car, and drive into Greenwich. From there, we could drive into Queens for dinner, and then drive up to Boston the next day. So, I called my old roommate Trishatur and asked him if he'd like to me