Page 26 of Loving a Warrior

“Form up in your boat crews. Chow time!”

Matt ran to join the five other men in his assigned boat crew. They stood at attention next to their one-hundred-seventy-pound inflatable boat, waiting for the order to hoist it over their heads and run the mile to the mess hall with it.

“Teamwork, fellas. You gotta work together, share the burden. One of you fucks up and gets dropped for push-ups, the rest of you still gotta hump that boat. Don’t be that guy, lettin’ your teammates down, makin’ them pull your weight. Boats up!”

Matt groaned as he worked to lift his section of the boat. It was designed to be cumbersome and hard to handle, and it took several tries for his crew to get it overhead and in proper position to move out.

Bernson noticed their struggle. “You smurf crews have to work a little harder at this,” he yelled at them. “Get it together. Now. If you drop my boat, your pain will be legendary.”

At last they were ready. One by one, each boat crew moved off at a slow jog, which really wasn’t much more than a shuffle.

“C’mon, guys,” Matt’s boat crew leader entreated them as they ran. “We may be small, but we’re mighty. Keep going. Chow at the end of it, right?”

Matt gritted his teeth against the burning in his shoulders from the weight of the boat overhead.

“Hey, smurf.” A breathless, unmistakable voice came from off to Matt’s left, and he turned his head to see Shane grinning at him from under his own boat. “Can I call you that? Soupy the Smurf has such a ring to it.”

“Fuckin’ clown,” Matt ground out, sweat dripping from the end of his nose. “Fuck you.”

Shane winked at him. “I’ll try not to eat all the scrambled eggs before you get there. No promises, though.” He and his taller crew picked up the pace and outdistanced Matt’s group easily.

Matt shifted his grip on the boat handle, feeling a welcome surge of adrenaline at Shane’s taunt. You can do this. Just get to chow. Don’t think of anything beyond that. Just get to chow. He pictured the route to the mess hall, imagining his feet barely skimming the ground as he made his way there. This boat was light as a feather, and a huge plate of eggs and bacon awaited him.

“One foot in front of the other, guys,” Matt gasped encouragement. “One step at a time!”

They kept at it, eventually stumbling to a halt in front of the chow hall.

“Much too slow!” Bernson yelled when the final boat crew shuffled into place. “You’re pissing me off. Drop! Feet on the boat!”

Everyone lowered their boat and got into push-up position with their feet up along the sides of it. The elevated posture put screaming tension on already-sore shoulders, and the air was soon filled with pained grunts of exertion.

Bernson paused by Matt’s crew. “I did see some good spirit out there today, people. Keep it up.”

Matt basked in the praise, not even caring that Bernson had them push twenty out before calling for them to recover.

“Get some chow. Get out of my sight.”

As they all piled into the chow hall, Matt couldn’t help but needle Shane. “See? Even smurfs got game.”

Shane nudged him with his shoulder. “Nobody said you have to be big. You just have to be relentless. I’m starting to think that’s your middle name.”

With that, Shane trotted on ahead, leaving Matt grinning like a fool. He wiped it off his face before anyone saw, only to have it return when Shane reappeared and handed him a huge plate piled high with scrambled eggs. “She just put a new pan out, so I snagged some off the top for you. Hot and fresh.”

Matt took the plate in bemusement. “Um, stop being so nice to me, man. It’s confusing. People might think we’re friends or something.”

“I’m a nice guy. What can I say?”

With a shrug, Shane loped off to join his boat crew, who were crowded around a table shoveling their food in like there was no tomorrow. Matt joined his own crew, unable to keep from sneaking looks over at Shane, mortification making his ears burn hot when Shane met his eyes on the last one, mouthing “What?” with one palm turned up in inquiry.

Spinning back around, Matt applied himself to his meal, almost positive he could hear Shane’s amused chuckle from across the noisy, crowded room.

The rest of the day was just as brutal as the morning had been. The cadre worked them hard, keeping them on the knife-edge of hypothermia and exhaustion by continuously sending them into the surf with no breaks from one evolution to the next. When they were finally secured around seven p.m., Matt didn’t think he’d ever been so worn out in his entire life.

He trudged toward the barracks, his new roommate falling into step beside him. Trey Jordan was a medical rollback from a previous class after he’d contracted pneumonia halfway through Hell Week, and he was a treasure trove of information about what they could expect. He was also a positive, upbeat dude and Matt genuinely liked him.

“Hey, brother.”

They bumped knuckles wearily.