Chapter Three #3
“Get to work. I still expect you to be on that CTT deck at 0500 sharp, and this room better be ready for re-inspection by then. Understood?”
“Hooyah!”
Salazar turned and walked out, followed by Matt’s classmates, who seemed to melt into thin air and disappear. Except for Shane.
“Can I help?” he asked in a hushed tone, as if confronting a cornered animal. “Between the two of us, we could have it done in no time.”
All Matt wanted to do was be alone so he could scream into his pillow, or punch a wall. The last thing he needed was goddamn Shane Hovland witnessing this massive humiliation.
“No. Get out.”
Shane didn’t blink. “Matt, let me help—”
Matt slashed his hand in a shut-up motion. “I said get the fuck out.”
His lips tight, Shane backed from the room as Matt sank to his knees and covered his face with his hands.
What a fucking disaster of a day. Desperate to hear a friendly voice, Matt grabbed his phone and called his uncle, pouring out all his disappointment and frustration.
Rick listened silently, waiting for Matt to wind down before saying, “This training is ninety percent mental, Matty.”
“I know—”
“I know you know,” Rick interrupted. “And what I don’t understand is why I’m listening to someone who’s already mentally DORed.”
Matt choked. “What?”
“BUD/S isn’t just about showing you can run fast or swim well, boy.
It’s about building character and developing strength through adversity.
These instructors want guys who’d rather die than quit, yes, but they also want guys who’re willing to work together to put the good of the team above all.
What I’m hearing now is a man completely distracted by his own personal misery and failure, and looking for someone to blame for it. ”
“Uncle—”
“Not knowing where your swim buddy is at all times, or not stopping to help someone who’s down, isn’t acceptable, Matt. That’s not showing the character the teams are looking for.”
Renewed shame slithered through Matt at those words. He’d been trying to avoid Shane so he wouldn’t have to deal with his reaction to him, but what if they’d been on the battlefield? Training was no different from war.
Rick seemed to read his mind. “SEALs train like they fight, and they fight like they train. It all begins here, son. Everything you’re doing serves a purpose, even if it doesn’t seem like it now, and it could one day save your life in battle.
Instead of taking to heart everything you’re learning, here you are whining to me about it.
Whatever is bothering you, son, you need to work it out because the only one responsible for your success is you. ”
For a moment Matt couldn’t speak, the truth of those words stabbing into him like a bayonet. At last he mumbled inanely, “He calls me Alphabet Soup.”
Rick chuckled. “Who, your instructor? Well, that’s a real good sign. If your instructor gave you a nickname, that means he likes you. And the more unflattering the better, trust me.”
Matt snorted his disbelief as Rick went on, “It’s true. In the teams we didn’t trust anyone with nicknames like Viper or Striker; this ain’t the movies. But if you were called Outhouse or Dumpster Fire, you were A-okay.”
Matt couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
“This is just a bump in the road, Matt, and a minor one at that. The whole point of First Phase is to weed the weak men out, and I’m not talking about just the physically weak. Your instructor trashed your room not to punish you, but to see how you handle it. How did you handle it, Matty?”
By flying off the handle and making accusations, then refusing an offer of help.
Matt’s silence was his reply.
“Well, it’s over and done with, can’t be changed.
So what do you do? You handle it now. You take care of it, and you show up tomorrow with your head in the right place, ready to crush it.
No feeling sorry for yourself, no dwelling on your mistakes.
Own them, and move on with one hundred ten percent effort. ”
Matt sucked in a deep breath. “Hooyah.”
“Now get to work.”
Without another word, Rick hung up, and Matt tossed his phone aside. What an absolute clusterfuck of a day, and it was far from over. He glanced around the destroyed room, his tired eyes burning.
Well, you could’ve had help. He offered.
Matt fought back tears as self-pity rolled through him.
He’d been clobbered over the head with some hard truths today, mainly that there was so much more to being a SEAL than physical toughness and tactical proficiency.
There was also whether or not he had the ability to earn the trust of his teammates.
They had to have zero hesitation about going into battle with him, and without that trust, he’d never be anything to the teams but a deadweight.
Today he’d let everyone down, most especially Shane. In one fell swoop, Matt had managed to alienate his classmates and leave his instructors wondering if he had what it took to be a SEAL.
Matt wiped his cheeks and got determinedly to his feet. That all had to change. Now. And it wasn’t up to anyone but him.