Chapter 13 #2
“Attention, attention!” she heard a familiar voice announce. It was Zachary. “Welcome to Week Two of WEALS. It will be my pleasure to show you a little torture, Navy SEAL style.”
Zachary had warned her that he would be one of her tormentors in the next weeks. She just hadn’t realized it would happen so quickly.
This is the way the big boys play, honey...
The grinder had been made to resemble a war zone, designed to scare the spit out of the newbies and force some of the weaker ones to quit.
The pre-dawn darkness was illuminated in an eerie fashion by flames blasting out of M60 machine gun muzzles.
Red and green smoke created by M18 grenades.
Noise of bombs bursting blared out of the speakers.
While at first glance, it might all seem like a cruel Halloween fright night tableau, it was in fact a replica of what they might face in battle.
If they couldn’t handle the shock here, they sure as hell couldn’t survive on a live op.
Not all the trainees were shocked, or amused. Zach heard one of them remark, “Men and their silly war games!” That one would be spouting a different tune come nightfall, if she hadn’t already rung out, Zach guessed.
Another one said, “It’s gonna take more than firecrackers and a Freddie Kruger SEAL to scare me off.”
He mouthed to Cage, “Me, Freddie Kruger?”
Cage laughed. “Nah, you too pretty. Mus’ be F.U. she’s talkin’ ’bout.”
First thing up for the women was a quick tour of the O-Course.
..also known as the Oh-my-God obstacle course.
Quick being a relative term. There were more than a dozen different obstacles here that had to be climbed, crawled, lifted or shoved, all to use every muscle in the body.
The Cargo Net, the Tower, a tire sequence, The Weaver, and lots of other good stuff.
Everything was timed, though those times were increased for the WEALS.
Some SEAL trainees not-so-lovingly dubbed this the “Kiddie Playground From Hell.”
And it wasn’t just trainees who used this course. Well-seasoned SEALs were required to run the evolution before any live op. An oft-quoted saying around the compound was: “The more SEALs sweat in peacetime, the less they bleed in war.”
An hour later, and the women were being marched down to the beach by the commander and by F.U.
, and a half dozen other instructors, for a quick cold dunking, a roll in the sand, and a five-mile run along the shore.
Just for a wake-up call. The instructor-to-trainee ratio would be high during the next week or two to ensure safety during exercises that could be unsafe.
Most of them didn’t like inflicting pain on the trainees, but knew there was a reason for the torment to come. F.U. yelling into a bullhorn, on the other hand, just enjoyed it.
Even the cold water, irritating sand and energy-draining runs might seem like wasted exercises, but they also replicated battle scenarios where comfort was the last thing a warrior might have.
Just how long could an operator stand in water, or remain immobile when being driven crazy by the itch of a sand rash?
And the constant running, well, everyone knew it developed stamina and leg muscles.
Zach walked at the tail-end, talking to Cage, Sly, JAM, Geek and Max, who had agreed to help him with WEALS till they got called up to a live op. Which might be any minute.
“Way to go, dude!” Cage said to him.
“Huh?”
Glancing around in the dawn light, he saw that all the guys were grinning at him.
“What?”
“Cher, you look lak ya been pulled through the sex keyhole, backward,” Cage said, giving him a good-buddy jab in the upper arm. “In the bayou, we calls it the sex flush.”
He tried to pretend ignorance, but felt his face heat.
“The boy can still blush!” JAM hooted with laughter.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tried to say.
“Man, have you looked in the mirror today?” Max asked. “Your lips are swollen, like you got a freakin’ Botox injection.”
“More like a tonsil hockey injection,” Cage interjected. “Talk about!”
“You got a bite mark on your neck,” Max continued. “In fact, I could swear that’s a bite mark on your inner thigh.”
He glanced down. There was nothing there beneath his shorts, but it was too late. He’d revealed the possibility that there might have been.
“Actually,” Geek began, “there really is such a thing as a sex flush. During sex, blood rushes to the genitals and all the other body extremities, including the face. The flush, which mostly resembles a measles type rash, usually goes away after orgasm. Except if a person has an excessive number of orgasms in a short period of time. Some people even take Niacin or Vitamin B-3 a half hour before sex to increase the blood flow to the skin and mucous membranes. There was even a guy in China who—” Geek stopped mid-sentence, noticing that everyone was staring at him.
The boy did astonish them sometimes with his font of knowledge.
“I’m just sayin’,” he concluded with his own blush.
“Open your mouth and show me your mucous,” JAM requested of Zach with fake seriousness.
“Bite me!”
“I’d say you already had way too much of that,” JAM shot right back.
“So how’s the love glove comin’?” Cage asked Geek.
“It’s a penile glove. Sheesh!” Geek corrected, then realized that Cage was just ribbing him. “Great. The website is up, and Julie had five thousand hits the first hour. They can’t make the product fast enough to fill orders.”
“Amazing!” Zach said, not because the concept was so outlandish. Hell, they had everything on the Internet, even...well, everything. The amazing thing was that Geek was involved. He was beginning to think that Geek’s naive-and-inexperienced persona was a big scam.
“Back to Big Mama,” Cage said to Zach. “How ya gonna separate WEALS from yer love life, cher?”
“I don’t know, but I have to. I can’t treat Britta any differently than the others.”
“Oooh, boy! This oughta be good,” JAM remarked. “Pretty Boy restraining his libido!”
Did everyone really think he had that little control over his sex life?
Probably.
They must think his dick was on autopilot every minute of the day. For the first time in his life, he was embarrassed by his reputation.
He and his guys put the bell on the back of a pickup truck and drove it to the grinder so that it would be visible and readily available to the women who were ready to quit.
Then they pulled out the heavy kapok life vests which had been around since Moses was a kid.
..or at least before World War II. The vests kept even an unconscious person floating in turbulent waters.
They also pulled out the women’s personal helmet liners, preparing for the next rotation.
Two dozen helmet liners of already rung-out trainees were arranged beside the bell. ..a graveyard of sorts.
Every class of Navy SEALs painted their helmet liners with the class number on the front and back, along with their last names.
Green for first phase, blue for second phase and red for third phase.
These ladies had made their own personal statement by painting theirs pink with the #1 on front and back.
After that, they lugged out the heavy IBSes.
Inflatable Boats, Small were among the most hated training tools in all SEAL training.
They weighed several hundred pounds even without being packed with equipment, and they had to be carried on the heads or extended arms of the trainees at almost all times.
This rotation alone should result in a dozen women ringing the bell.
“Listen up, ladies,” Zach told the group when they came back.
“This is your new best friend. Inflatable Boat, Small. Better known as IBS. Or ‘that frickin’ boat.’ From now on, you will carry it almost everywhere, even to the chow hall, mostly on top of your heads, six persons to a boat, three on each side.
Now, some of our SEALs have been known to develop permanent bald spots from their IBS experiences.
” He waited till their protests died down, and till they watched two women walk over, take off their helmets, place them in the line, then ring the bell.
“But we are going to make a concession to your female sensibilities.” Some of the women made disparaging remarks about the likelihood of that, which he chose to ignore.
“So, you may wear one of these pretty little bathing caps.” He twirled a red, butt-ugly, thick rubber cap on a forefinger up in the air.
Or you can wear your helmet liners all the time, which could be uncomfortable.
Or you can risk baldness. Your choice.” They all took the caps, muttering as they did so.
“Another thing,” Commander MacLean interjected. “I’ve been hearing way too much muttering. Next mutter I hear, and the whole group of you will be punished. One for all and all for one.”
Donita Leone, once a famous Olympic swimmer, made the mistake of muttering, “Sadistic bastard.”
Simms, who seemed to have an attraction for his black “sister,” stepped forward gleefully, motioning with a forefinger for her to follow him back to the grinder. Donita pretended not to have seen the gesture.
“Let’s start with surf appreciation,” Zach ordered.
“Into the water, ladies. Pronto.” When they had waded into the surf, shivering despite the temperature which wasn’t all that cold today.
..about seventy degrees already, he yelled out, “Line up and lock arms. All fifty of you. Now, march into the surf zone and sit down. You heard me. Sit the hell down.” Instantly, the icy waves came crashing over them. ”
He made them sit there for three minutes, but it probably felt like an hour before he shouted for them to come to shore. “Up boats, ladies. Time for a short run to warm you up.”
Britta was visibly shivering, her teeth chattering, when she came out.
“Are you cold, Asado?” he inquired. “I can get you warm real quick. All you gotta do is ring out.”