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272 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2012
They call it the grinder. It’s where they grind you down. A slab of concrete the size of a basketball court and surrounded by two-story walls, it’s where you’ll be herded and cursed at while guns sound all around you and cold water from a fire hose is blasted in your face. Being driven into the grinder, tormented and physically punished, is the first act of a very long week. The instructors try to throw you off balance, to flush out the weak and to separate you from your team. But there’s another way. You’ve thought it over. When the guns start firing, when the yelling begins and the hoses start to spray, you have a choice. You can run out of the tent with your men, run right into the chaos. Or you can tell your team to crawl out under the sides of the tent, gather together, and run past the mayhem. You can ignore the instructors as they yell at you to drop down for pushups, and you can find a spot to hide your team. It’s sneaky, and it has its risks. If they catch you, your punishment will be severe. You’ll be marked for retribution all week long. But if they don’t catch you, you’ll start the hardest week of the hardest military training in the world on your own terms. You’ll be able to rest for just a few minutes. You’ll go into the week having made decisions, bucked the system, avoided pain, just a little bit. And that one little act of defiance might be enough to boost your confidence, and that of your crew, for the entire week. You sleep, and when you wake, it’s to the sound of automatic weapons and air-raid sirens. It’s begun. You fall to the floor, your men beside you. They look at you for your decision. You can rush out the main exit with your crew, run, with the rest of the class, right into the middle of things, or you can take a chance and crawl under the side of the tent. What do you do?
