Chapter 14
Tucker found the next two phases of BUD/S easier. The instructors didn’t yell at him so loud, which kind of pissed him off. He didn’t want to be known as a weakling, or anything approaching being fragile. He wanted to be the one to show them how it was done. It was dangerous to have that attitude, so he worked to make sure it didn’t show up in his team dynamics.
Because of his previous experience on the Teams, the instructors gave him hints about what might be sprung on the class the next day. “Don’t bother to shower, you’ll be wet all day,” or, “Go light on the breakfast. A little choppy out there on the bay today.” One suggestion he really appreciated was, “Pick the big guys today. The Smurfs are going to get wasted.” Tucker had been nursing a cold and thoroughly enjoyed sitting on the sunny beach watching as every other boat crew had to go in and out all afternoon. Because they’d come in first, they earned the right to rest and restore. It wasn’t much, but it was as good as doing wet-n-sandy in a heated bathtub.
But perhaps the instructors discovered he was an inspiration to those men who were struggling to push themselves to finish. Tucker’s swim buddy, who could have been on one of the Olympic teams, dropped one day and didn’t even say good-bye. He knew some day he’d run across the man and give him the chance to explain. But the loss of his strong swim partner made the “water features” as the instructors called it, more challenging. Another good swimmer who had also lost his partner started shadowing him, and they worked the channel like he had done with his former buddy.
He also knew word had spread what Brawley had been through. He was encouraged to share some of his private thoughts about P.T.S.D. and how it could creep up on even the strongest warrior.
In the last week before graduation a subtle shift had occurred. Tucker transitioned from student to teacher. He suspected this was the role he would play in the months and days coming up.
The graduation ceremony was held in the operations building, newly renovated since Tucker’s first time out. Even the chairs were nicer and they had a screen for the hot sun that baked Coronado all twelve months of the year.
Brandy was wearing dark Navy blue, and not black, because she thought it would be bad luck. Her suit nearly matched Tucker’s dark dress uniform of the enlisted rank. He noted all the ladies were taken with the dress whites the officers chose to wear.
It was a surprise when Kyle Lansdowne walked into the gathering and began his address to the new class five-two-six. They were a small group, only twelve of the original group, plus several who would go on to do further training from previous classes, having recovered from their injuries. Several had developed mono, which sometimes forced them to wait six months or a year to graduate.
Tucker was seated on the left. Brandy and his parents were seated on the right, along with other friends and family of the other men. He’d given an invitation to Dorie, but she respectfully declined, since she was due to deliver any day. She’d been touched by the gesture.
“He’s going through BUD/S all over again, Dorie. Just without the uniform and the speeches. He already earned his Trident. Now he’s proving to everyone why. So happy for both of you.”
She’d been so overcome, she didn’t have words to give him in return.
So he was waiting for his time to walk up front and get his pin to add to the other one he’d kept in a box in his underwear drawer. He chuckled, recalling when Brandy asked him if he got to wear both Tridents at the same time.
Kyle began his speech. Tucker had heard many of them before, but this one was special because he felt it had been written just for him. Unless that was his ego talking, and that was always a possibility.
He shook it off, clearing his head, ready to listen to the man he hoped to serve with and under, and risk his life with, again.
Kyle gave the welcome to the dignitaries, and told the families that he’d remembered this day, over twenty-two years ago now. He told them he never hesitated when asked to address a new class. He’d met some of his best friends here. And some of those he lost overseas.
“We aren’t supposed to say we’re the best, because any man who wears a uniform is a hero. There is no rank to the word hero. You don’t get a medal every time you become one, or, in some cases, claw your way back to one.” He nodded at Tucker. Tucker returned the short nod in return.
“We are trained not to brag, but let me tell you, and then I’ll shut up about it, we are the best of the best. And so are the other Spec Ops guys, and the guys who deliver and pick them up. The ones who give support on the ground or arrange to get them home. The ladies who give birth to these fine men and then have to give them up to a country that doesn’t always recognize her Vets as they should all the time. But we don’t do it for that. In the old days no one knew what a SEAL was. A lot of us wish it was that way again.”
He paused to take a drink of water.
“We are lucky enough to find something we so love doing, that we do it even though we may have to pay the ultimate sacrifice. We were created because it was determined our country needed a group of special guys who can gut it out and just get the job done, no matter what was asked, no matter what the risk. I guess history will eventually tell us if we were smart or just plain stupid.”
The audience rumbled in amusement. Kyle gripped the podium and continued, scanning the whole crowd, both right and left. And then he motioned to someone at the back.
Tucker turned in his seat, winked at Brandy, who had been staring at him that way she did. His mother had her arm around her shoulders. He continued to scan the back of the room and saw a column of familiars walk up front in their dress uniforms, which was not required. There was Cooper, and Fredo, T.J., Lucas, Armando and Danny, and each one gave their wink or nod as they passed his chair.
“These are just a sampling of some of the guys we get to work with every day. Several of these men have saved my life. More than once. I’ve had a hand in rescuing some of them. We like to say that we never leave a man behind. That’s true of all the branches of service. But we’re a brotherhood and that never ends.”
He winked again at Tucker. It was making it harder and harder to keep from releasing the tears that hurt his eyes. Hearing the sniffles from the family and friends who had gathered didn’t help, either.
“Some of us come home in various stages of whatever has been our plight. We’re ready to bring it on. Bring it all on. We may not like it, but we can take it.”
He sighed and gripped the podium again. “I don’t know when I’ll retire. I can’t imagine doing anything else with my life, and I say that with the full knowledge and love of my wife and kids, my extended family. There are some men who are made here. There are some men who leave here to go on and do other great things. And then there are some men who just belong here. I’m one of them. And I’m also proud that today, I’m witnessing the graduation of another of our ilk.”
There was a smattering of clapping. As should be, Tucker wasn’t named. Only the few that knew the story had that benefit and the rest had to take it on faith. But when the time came, and the men lined up to receive their Tridents, Kyle was the one to pin it on Tucker himself. His words, whispered in confidence, were ones Tucker would never forget.
“You inspire me, Tucker. You help show them the way. Keep it up, bud. We need men like you.”
All he could say was, “Thank you.”