I would never quit. I was certain of that. Everyone I knew back home told me I couldn’t do it. There’s no way; it’s too hard and you’re not a tough guy, you’re too skinny, too slow, and too weak. Those guys will eat you alive. The only person who really believed in me was my dad. Even my mom and siblings talked behind my back about how I’d never make it. Proving them wrong was my motivation. That, and something BUD/S did that was both diabolical and brilliant. When you quit, you have to put your helmet in “the quitter line.” Your helmet has your class number and last name on it. There was no
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