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FORGED IN FIRE—BECOMING A NAVY SEAL
Men don’t get assigned to a SEAL Team; they volunteer for this extreme and arduous duty. From World War II to the present, very exceptional men have volunteered for some very tough assignments, and many have made the ultimate sacrifice. But who are these men? What is their heritage? And what is it that separates them from all others?
A deep-seated desire to become one of the best warriors alive matched with the discipline to carry on through any adversity … the man who would rather die than quit. Intangible traits like these separate these men from the pack.
So then, what does it take to become an elite U.S. Navy SEAL commando? You might think the answer is simple; however the Naval Special Warfare Center (NSWC), the Navy SEAL training center located in Coronado, California, does not have a specific answer.
The fact is that there simply doesn’t exist a quick-and-easy answer to the question, “What makes a person a great SEAL candidate?”
This remains true despite the continual efforts of scores of social and biological scientists to identify those qualities most desirable in a candidate for SEAL training. For years, SEALs have striven to discover what some call the mysterious “golden key” to becoming a SEAL, but to no avail. There was simply no way to predict who had the guts to go through the six months of hell called BUD/S (Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL training).
However, while many SEALs are convinced that such a golden key does not exist, there was one characteristic common to every BUD/S graduate: the trait SEAL instructors call “fire in the gut.”
While this attribute cannot be precisely defined, in the aggregate it includes courage, the ability to ignore pain, obedience, intelligence, and respect of fellow teammates.
You might have noticed that physical endowments are not listed as characteristic of the “fire in the gut.” While it’s obvious that a potential SEAL must be able to measure up in a physical sense, BUD/S doesn’t require superhuman strength or endurance. As a matter of fact, many times it is the most physically capable members of a particular class are first ones to “ring the bell,” or quit.
One might say those who quit simply had other priorities, while a successful trainee had only one—becoming a Navy SEAL.
One former Commanding Officer (CO) of the Naval Special Warfare Command (NSWC) was often asked during interviews what he looked for in a SEAL candidate. Typically, he would answer by telling the interviewer what he did not like to see in a trainee: being too self-centered, overly concerned with physical appearance, or excessively individualistic.
Still, knowing nothing else about a trainee, in many SEALs experience, they would prefer the kid of average build and physical ability who simply wants to be a SEAL most in life rather than the athletic superstar who has spent half his life in the gym, on the track, or in the pool. The harsh reality is that beyond the required minimum level of athletic ability and stamina, there is little or no relationship between physical prowess and success in BUD/S training.
BUD/S Students struggling through “Log PT”
As a somewhat fascinating sidelight to the business of predicting BUD/S success, there is the work of Dr. Rob Carlson, chairman of the Department of Physical Education at San Diego State University. Asked to be part of an effort by Naval Special Warfare to optimize the selection process for potential SEALs, Dr. Carlson was contracted to develop a testing instrument to predict failure for BUD/S training. At the end of his study, not only was Dr. Carlson able to do this with 95 percent accuracy, but he was also able to identify with 80 percent accuracy the 10 percent of class members most likely to graduate.
Interestingly, the key indicators in the latter assessment also included a strong sense of patriotism, deeply held religious beliefs, and a solid sense of traditional values. Conversely, a lack of these elements was a very important factor in predicting failure during his study of each man’s motivations.
Surf Passage: BUD/S students learning how to work as a team in adverse conditions
Today, the graduation rate hovers at around 33 percent and most instructors are convinced this rate or higher is sustainable only by a Herculean effort on the part of the BUD/S staff to keep good trainees in the program.
The key element in keeping graduation rates higher while retaining the training program’s integrity is what was initially informally referred to as the “Fourth Phase.” The original idea was conceived by Master Chief Boatswain’s Mate Rick Knepper. Fourth Phase is an “Intense Prep Phase” for those trainees who have either reported aboard in less-than-satisfactory physical condition or who have been injured during BUD/S training.
In years past, any trainee who could not pass the BUD/S physical training (PT) test shortly after reporting aboard got sent back to the fleet. Such also was the fate of a trainee who experienced an injury requiring treatment of more than a few days. Fourth Phase, now called BUD/S Orientation, was designed to salvage trainees who would otherwise leave the program without having had a chance to prove their mettle. This also allowed them to recoup and either start BUD/S at the proper level of physical conditioning, or reenter upon recovery from illness or injury.
While some of the old-line instructors objected to incorporating Fourth Phase into BUD/S, it is now viewed as a vital part of the constant effort to ensure that every qualified trainee has an opportunity to graduate. And for those trainees who enjoy life on Coronado’s “Silver Strand,” Fourth Phase gives them the opportunity to get to know that place intimately, with some of them being assigned to it for up to a year before reentering training.
In some ways, it took a special kind of guts to work through Fourth Phase’s tedium of physical therapy and conditioning exercise, only so a student can yet again subject himself to the rigors of BUD/S. It is sort of like practicing for the proverbial kick in the butt. Nevertheless, now all students go through Fourth Phase. And, it is not surprising that the winner of the “Fire in the Gut” trophy awarded to a deserving graduate of each BUD/S class was consistently an alumnus of Fourth Phase before the phase became mandatory—such a student would have had to show even more tenacity and desire than his compatriots, who have merely spent six months in the hell of BUD/S.
BUD/S Students with their logs racing over the sand berm—it pays to be a winner
An important note is that the last fifteen to twenty years, the path to become a Navy SEAL was only hinted at by a small amount of published material and numerous rumors, most of which were patently false. It was kept mysterious, and only those few who had endured the training knew what to expect. But popular media has begun to change all of that, and now books, movies, articles, podcasts, and almost all other means of communication and information have reported to varying degrees about the process and the training pipeline. In fact, you can get a pretty good overview straight from the official U.S. Navy website dedicated to the SEALs.
Still, there is nothing quite like going through it all yourself.
To become a Navy SEAL is to become one of America’s most elite warriors. This essential fact can’t be over emphasized; you are not preparing to become just an elite athlete—you are preparing to become a warrior forged in the fires of the hardest military training on the planet.
What, then, separates an elite athlete from a Navy SEAL? Isn’t becoming an Olympian or top pro in a demanding sport similar to becoming one of America’s greatest warriors? Yes and no. Yes, both must constantly push their limits and endure thousands of hours of hard training and conditioning. But one thing in particular stands out above all the rest: the willingness to risk everything to successfully carry out the most dangerous missions our brave warriors must endure. Failure is not an option. You must be prepared to sacrifice your life in the effort to complete your team’s mission. Athletes, even the toughest and most gifted of them, are not required to do the same.
This is the essence of a Navy SEAL warrior: My team and my mission come first—I will never quit and am never out of the fight while I am still breathing.
The path to becoming one of America’s elite warriors is long and each person called to that path may take a slightly different road.
NAVAL SPECIAL WARFARE CENTER
CORONADO, CALIFORNIA
BUD/S CLASS 239
The sun had yet to rise as the members of BUD/S Class 239 stood on the beach, preparing for yet another Monday morning and the first evolution of yet another week: a four-mile timed run in combat boots and camo trousers. It was cold, but we were still dry for the moment. We all knew that wouldn’t last long.
“IN-STRUC-TOR Rector!!” I yelled as the Class Leader, followed by the whole class repeating it in unison. As each of the First Phase instructors made their way over the berm, we repeated the drill until they were all present.
“Class Leader, what’s the count?” Instructor Burke, the lead First Phase instructor, asked sternly.
“One hundred and fifty-five present and accounted for Instructor Burke,” I said as I stepped up in front.
“Very well, line ’em up!”
We had started pre-training, called Fourth Phase, with 212 students. Just because of the timing of being a winter class, we ended up with an extended Fourth Phase, which the lead instructor for the phase, a then young SEAL named Rob, had taken advantage of nicely. He took our preparation for First Phase very seriously and figured the best way to do it was to mimic First Phase as much as possible by keeping us very cold, constantly wet and sandy, and busting our asses in PT every day. Later when training was over, Rob and I became best friends.
The cold already had taken a toll on our numbers early on, but most of the guys actually appreciated it. We wanted to become elite warriors and knew it was going to be hard. Everyone got up near the starting line and waited for the command to go. Every week we were under pressure to continue progressing and getting better at every evolution, whether it was the running, swimming, O-Course, pool skills, or whatever. Constant pressure and unrelenting expectations to improve were standard.
The instructors said go and started their timers. As the Class Leader, I was the only one allowed to wear a watch, which included wearing it on the runs and swims. We took off at a solid pace.
Going through BUD/S you will find that there is going to be someone in the class better than you at something … guaranteed. Someone will have been a track or cross-country star and will smoke you on the runs, or another guy will be a former water polo player and make the water evolutions look easy. But in Naval Special Warfare there are a couple rules of thumb you learn to live by that are absolute and contribute to the nature of the Teams: You are never done training, and you must “be the best at something and solid at everything else.”
As a SEAL, much of your work will be done while cold, wet, and sandy
You need to be the go-to guy for something. The best shooter, best tactician, most knowledgeable about explosives, the best swimmer—whatever your best gift is, make it better and be the best. Then, continually shore up any weaknesses and keep learning. I’ll say that again—keep learning and always seek to improve.
This was etched into my brain early on, and I’ll never forget the day it hit home forever. My now close friend and early mentor, Johnny Heil, was sitting with me hanging out in the Training Department office at SEAL Team [redacted] when a conversation got started about an upcoming evolution to practice IADs (Immediate Action Drills) and somewhere along the way I said something like, “Johnny, you’ve been with the Teams for nearly fifteen years now—what do you have to prove at this point?”
He looked at me like I had three heads and gave me a stern glare, “I have to prove every single day that I still belong here, man.”
Damn. He was absolutely right and I was absolutely wrong. It was one of the best lessons I ever learned.
But, back to the four-mile ru...