Stephen Templin's Blog, page 15
September 9, 2014
September 8, 2014
September 6, 2014
September 4, 2014
September 2, 2014
SEAL Training #21: Hyping Out
As we came out of more surf torture in the cold Pacific Ocean, something unexpected happened. We stood together shivering on the beach—all of us except Petty Officer Lee, the Army Ranger Grenada veteran. He stood away from the rest of us, not shivering, staring off into space. We call it “hyping out,” Stage 3 hypothermia. Stage 1 is mild to strong shivering with numbness in the hands—most people have experienced this level of hypothermia. Stage 2 is violent shivering with mild confusion and stumbling. In Stage 3, Lee’s stage, the core body temperature drops below 90 degrees, shivering stops, and a person becomes a babbling, bumbling idiot. There is no Stage 4, only death.Lee had hyped out during the first half of Hell Week with a senior class before rolling back to our class.
An instructor yelled, “Lee, get in formation!”
Instead of getting in formation, Lee staggered back toward the ocean. A SEAL instructor speedily cut him off before reaching the water. He led Lee to the green ambulance. Some of us started to follow Lee to help him, but another instructor barked, “Stay in formation!”
The ambulance sped away with Petty Officer Lee, taking him to Medical. The vehicle’s lights flashed and siren blared...
August 30, 2014
10
Once a SEAL, always a SEAL. Only 10 more days until Trident's First Gleaming.
August 27, 2014
August 25, 2014
SEAL Training 20: Chicken a la Sand
My class divided into two groups. Using only our hands, each group dug a large pit in the Camp Surf beach. When the two pits were big enough, we sat in them. The instructors tossed us boxed meals. As we started to eat, the instructors shoveled sand on us. I shielded my food with my body and ate as fast as I could, but my main course became Chicken A La Sand. After wolfing down the main course, I only had time to eat the crackers sprinkled with sand—pocketing the peanut butter packet for later. Just as I pulled out my cookie, an instructor side-slung a shovel of sand directly at me. Ignoring the sand in my eyes, I spit sand out of my mouth, blew at my cookie, and brushed the sand off with my sandy hand. Tasted a bit gritty, but a full meal topped off with a cookie boosted my morale. I put a packet of ground pepper in my pocket, leaving nothing to waste. The whole meal took me about 5 minutes. Some of my classmates just sat there with cardboard boxes full of food and sand, dumb looks on their faces, and empty stomachs.After our meal, the sun went down and the tide came in. We dug frantically, building up the walls to keep the water out. The instructors ordered us to stop building and sit down. Little-by-little the seawater started seeping into the other group’s pit. They hadn’t built their walls high enough. The instructors ordered us to attention then to switch pits. We sat down in our classmates' soggy-bottomed pit while they sat dry in ours. But the other group didn't stay dry long—seawater soon broke through the walls. The instructors wouldn't let us get out until we had a refreshingly long bath, Hell Week style.
