SEAL of Honor (13 page)

Personnel inspection (PI).
Each candidate was inspected for proper uniform, haircut, shave, hygiene, and general military appearance.

Drill.
Approximately forty hours were spent learning and practicing drill. The candidates also marched to and from every evolution.

On December 13, 2000, with his parents and brother in attendance, Ensign Michael P. Murphy graduated with Honor Class 07-01 and was commissioned as an officer in the U.S. Navy. After OCS, he returned to Patchogue, where he remained until mid-January. He then departed for San Diego and his next duty assignment—BUD/S.

CHAPTER EIGHT

—BUD/S motto, Naval Special Warfare,
www.sealchallenge.navy.mil/seal/default/aspx
(accessed December 9, 2009)

 

 

 

T
o begin to appreciate the level of skills and training possessed by Michael Murphy and his teammates, we’ll need to take a look at his SEAL training.
²
The newly commissioned Ensign Michael Murphy reported to Naval Special Warfare Command, located at the Naval Amphibious Base in Coronado, California, and began thirty months of the most brutal training of any military unit in the world. Having arrived safely, he called his mother. He knew that 75 to 80 percent of those beginning BUD/S training do not finish. He also knew that the training was not designed to build a superior physically trained individual, but rather a member of a warrior culture with relentless drive to fight and win as a team—someone who would rather die than quit.

Despite the brutal training, Michael soon realized that almost anyone could meet the physical requirements of the SEALs, but the unending challenge from day one would be the mental toughness, that never-ending inner drive that pushes you forward when every nerve and muscle fiber in your body tells you to stop—to quit. That warrior mind-set—the mental toughness—is what separates a Navy SEAL from any other airman, seaman, soldier, or Marine, regardless of their level of training.

Michael Murphy had prepared for two years to get there. As a commissioned Navy officer, he completed his training alongside his fellow officers and enlisted men, although as an officer he was held to a higher standard. The men trained and suffered together in a ritual that built both a warrior and a warrior bond that united enlisted, junior, senior, and flag officers into a close, very tight-knit community
that most people never realize exists or understand. The complete mental rewiring that takes place makes you understand that your teammates are more important than you.

Michael Murphy, and all of his classmates, were volunteers and could quit at any time. If a trainee quit, he had to return to the fleet for a minimum of eighteen months before he could return to BUD/S—but only if he had demonstrated potential and had been recommended for a second attempt.

On day one, at 4:30 AM, Ensign Murphy joined the rest of his BUD/S teammates in Class 235 at the swimming pool, known officially as the Combat Training Tank (CTT), located along Guadalcanal Road. The class arrived to roll and put away the pool covers and string the lane markers. At 5:00 AM, he stood on the cool concrete that surrounded the CTT in nothing but his canvas Underwater Demolition Team (UDT) swim trunks. Soaking wet from a cold shower, he and his classmates sat in rows in bobsled fashion, chests to backs, to conserve body heat. Their military duffel bags, containing the few items they were permitted to bring, were beside them and separated each row of students.

As the instructor arrived, the class leader yelled, “Feet!” and all immediately sprang to attention, shivering in the cold. Each row of students made up a boat crew of seven trainees.

“Drop!” commanded the instructor, and all scrambled for a piece of the concrete in a fully extended push-up position. “Push ’em out!” The class counted out twenty push-ups and returned to the fully extended position.

“Push ’em out!” The class again counted out twenty push-ups before hearing the same command for yet another twenty push-ups. After sixty push-ups the class instructor left them in the fully extended position as they all tried to shift their position to relieve the intense burning in their arms.

“Seats!” All sat on the cool concrete.

BUD/S training is separated into three phases, each phase designed to build on the skills of the previous one. First Phase is the conditioning phase. It is followed by Second Phase, diving, and Third Phase, weapons and tactics. However, before Ensign Murphy and his classmates reached First Phase, they had to complete the five-week Indoctrination Course, during which they learned the rules and protocols of BUD/S training—how to conduct themselves at the pool, how to perform at the obstacle course, and how to handle their small inflatable boats in the rough Pacific surf. They learned SEAL culture and began to internalize the ethos of the warrior. Every training evolution, whether PT or academic, was evaluated in some manner and every student’s performance closely monitored by the Academic/
Performance Review Board, a committee of three BUD/S instructors. Failure to live up to the standards resulted in the student being held back, called a rollback, to the next class, or even a quick trip back to the fleet or his previous assignment.

Although every man present successfully completed the BUD/S Physical Screening Test (PST) prior to his arrival, each had to pass it again. The PST consisted of:

After successfully completing the PST, only two things could remove a student from Indoctrination, or Indoc: a request to quit, known as drop on request (DOR); or failing the comprehensive psychological examination. After completing the PST, all successful students ran two miles to the chow hall. After breakfast, they ran two miles back and continued their training.

During Indoc, students underwent a physical training regimen designed to build solid, well-trained bodies, especially the upper body. The upper-body exercises of choice were pull-ups and push-ups with varying degrees of difficulty. Special emphasis was placed on the abdominal muscles. Here, the exercises of choice were sit-ups, crunches, log sit-ups, and flutter kicks. The students learned early that it paid to be a winner. Those who were not winners were losers and gained the unwanted attention of the instructors in the form of more cold water (ocean), sand, push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, and obstacle course (O-course) runs.

While in Indoc, the trainees lived in small, often-cramped barracks. Just as each BUD/S training phase was built on the previous one, each day in Indoc was more intense than the previous one. Each day began at 5:00 AM at the CTT. After a two-hour pool evolution, the trainees were ordered into their fatigue pants and shoes. Fully dressed, they were ordered back into the pool. Though they were cold and wet, they ran the two miles to chow and then back again to continue their day’s training.

The Indoc trainees ran twelve miles a day just to eat and return. They lived on the run and were always cold and wet. At the training center they were ordered into the cold Pacific surf several times a day, then ordered to roll in the sand. Cold, wet, and sandy—that was everyday life for a BUD/S trainee. While the instructors may have seemed cruel and insensitive and at times even brutal, they knew that building spirit and character, both individually and as a class, was essential to the success of the SEAL trainees.

At the CTT the trainees learned that the water is what separates the SEALs from all other special operations forces. For most special operators, the water is an
obstacle; for the SEALs, it is their sanctuary. The trainees learned buoyancy control and how to swim more like a fish than a human. They mastered breathing techniques and how to use their arms to make themselves longer in the water, which added balance.

The men in Michael’s class completed their training in very modest surroundings. The classroom was a single large concrete-block room with pale yellow paint, a concrete floor, long, narrow wooden tables with unpadded chairs, and a large retractable projection screen centered on the front wall behind a slightly elevated platform and podium. Many times during classroom instruction, the students were ordered into the surf and sand and then sent back to the classroom for the remainder of the training evolution. Calisthenics and other physical training are conducted on the “grinder,” a thick square area of asphalt just outside the classroom door. On the asphalt about three feet apart the numbers one through fifty were painted in yellow, designating a position for each student. During multiple twenty-repetition calisthenics, the students again were ordered into the surf and sand and then returned to the grinder to complete their evolutions. With PT completed, the class set out on a four-mile conditioning run in the soft sand, during which they were directed back into the surf several times. None of the training evolutions was designed to punish the trainees; instead, each was designed to teach a specific skill that will be needed when the men became Navy SEALs.

During the second week of Indoc, the class began inflatable boat, small (IBS) training. Here they learned to work together as a boat crew. The IBS was a 13-foot, 170-pound inflatable rubber boat. Poorly designed and too bulky for operational use, it was perfect for teaching BUD/S trainees to work together as a team in the surf.

On the final day of Indoc, each trainee’s performance was reviewed by the Academic/Performance Review Board, which decided who would continue on to First Phase. The board could not remove a student from BUD/S, but rather only decided who continued on to the next phase of instruction. In addition, each student had the opportunity to evaluate each of his instructors and the training in writing. The review board determined that Michael Murphy had successfully completed Indoc and was given the rite of passage to the first phase of BUD/S training.

Eight weeks long, First Phase was much like Indoc, only the intensity and expectations were elevated several levels. Running, swimming, and physical training grew harder as the weeks passed. Students continued weekly four-mile runs in combat boots and long pants in the soft beach sand, and were expected to decrease their obstacle-course times, swim distances of up to two miles wearing fins, and continue to learn small-boat seamanship and the importance of teamwork.

Drown proofing was an important part of basic conditioning. During this training evolution, the students learned to swim with their hands and feet bound, more of a psychological test than a physical one. It originated in the Vietnam era, when an American POW was hog-tied, then tossed into the Mekong River to drown. That POW proved that a man could swim with his hands and feet tied if he put his mind to it.

In order to pass drown proofing, the trainees had to enter a nine-foot-deep pool with their hands and feet tied, and (1) bob from the surface to the base of the pool for five minutes, (2) float on the surface for five minutes, (3) swim one hundred meters, (4) bob for two minutes, (5) complete forward and backward flips, (6) swim to the bottom of the pool and retrieve an object with their teeth, and (7) return to the surface and bob five more times.

The students learned to tie knots underwater—not an easy task. The knots—bowline, sheet bend, clove hitch, and right angle—are important because they are used to secure underwater demolition charges.

In the waters of the Pacific just off Coronado, the water temperature usually hovers around 65°, in the summer, never going above 68°. In the winter the water temperature never gets above 58°. The students were ordered to wade into the water up to their waists with their arms linked to prevent a student from being swept out to sea, and then sit while being pounded by the cold saltwater waves breaking over their heads. Another variation was to have the trainees lie with their arms linked and their heads toward the water’s edge to allow the crashing surf to wash over them. On the very brink of hypothermia, they were ordered out of the surf and onto the beach for calisthenics to warm up, and then back into the surf in a training evolution that lasted for about one hour.

Unfortunately, cold-water conditioning was not a onetime experience; it was repeated frequently during BUD/S. Its purpose was to teach the prospective SEALs to mentally fend off the effects of hypothermia—which more than likely could save their lives in the future.

This relatively simple but brutal training evolution required that a boat team carry an eight-foot, 150-pound log that was twelve inches in diameter over the men’s heads while running in the soft beach sand wearing long pants and combat boots. During these timed beach runs, the trainees did hundreds of gut-busting sit-ups
while holding the log on their stomachs; they also performed calisthenics such as jumping jacks and overhead tosses.

In these evolutions the seven-man boat crew in their unwieldy IBS attempted to navigate the large piles of sharp rocks in the surf in front of the Hotel del Coronado. A five-star luxury hotel, Hotel del Coronado is located on the Silver Strand between Naval Amphibious Base, Coronado and Naval Air Station North Island. Extremely risky, these evolutions were conducted both day and night.

Not to be confused with a confidence course, this intimidating true obstacle course must be seen to be believed. Requiring a twenty-yard sprint between obstacles, it demanded a combination of balance, coordination, upper-body strength, technique, endurance, and, most of all, a positive mental attitude. All obstacles were designed to teach, develop, and reinforce a specific skill that would be needed when Michael and the other trainees reached the SEAL teams.