Page 42 of Loving a Warrior

“Dump your trays! Everyone get wet and sandy!”

As the day wore on, evolutions started to blur together—rock portage, the O-course, exhausting runs and swims, relay races and games. They were kept on the move constantly, except for meals. Men quit left and right.

“Wh-what d-day is it again?” Matt forced out through chattering teeth as he and Trey tread water in the darkness next to a floating steel pier.

“T-T-Tuesday,” Trey groaned. “I think.”

“Fuck.”

“Come on up here for a nice, long rest, boys!” one of the night cadre of instructors called out. Men heaved themselves out of the water and were told to lie down on the cold steel.

“Just relax for a while. Look up at the pretty stars.”

Matt felt like there was a block of ice underneath his body. The shivers racking him were so violent his body scooted along the frigid surface. Guys were crying out as muscles seized and cramped up from the cold, and they flopped around like fish.

This is gonna end. Nothing lasts forever. Embrace the suck!

“There’re blankets and hot chocolate in the back of the ambulance. And the heater is on!” the instructor shouted. “C’mon in and get warm.”

“N-negative,” a few weak voices called out.

“No? Well, back in the water, gents. We can do this all night.”

Matt got to his hands and knees and started to crawl toward the edge of the pier. “Push me in, Soup,” Trey begged him as he passed, grabbing on to his arm. “Push me in now or I’m gonna get up and quit.”

“No, you’re fucking not.” With every ounce of his strength Matt rolled him off the edge of the pier and into the water, and just as he was about to follow, he glanced toward the ambulance. Shock roared through him when he saw Shane climbing into the back of it, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“You’re quitting?” he shouted, getting to his knees. “Get the fuck back here, you asshole!”

His voice wasn’t much more than a thread of sound, but Matt railed against Shane until an instructor ordered him into the water now.

Casting a bitter look toward the departing ambulance, Matt stood up on trembling legs and leapt off the pier. He went under, and by the time he clawed his way back to the surface, his shock and disappointment had morphed into full-blown rage.

What a waste. What a fuckin’ waste. Why didn’t you come to me? Why didn’t you trust me? I would’ve helped you like I helped Trey!

The water churned as exhausted men fought to keep their heads above it. They were ordered back onto the pier, then back into the water, then back onto the pier.

“Hey, Soup, I gotta pee. Get ready.”

Trey’s voice was scratchy and weak, but he managed to roll across the frigid steel toward Matt, who wordlessly held his cupped hands out. The hot urine warmed his frozen fingers, and Matt didn’t think he’d ever felt anything so blissfully good in his entire life.

Fuck that clown. Now this was brotherhood.

* * *

“Suck it up, guys,” Bernson snapped the next morning when he heard the news. “Shit happens and sometimes the guys you least expect can’t hack it.” He stared at each of them in turn. “Look at it this way. In combat, what if one of your buddies goes down? You can’t focus on it; you have to move on and get the job done. The time for mourning comes later.”

That night they were allowed to stagger into a tent and sleep for ninety minutes. Despite his exhaustion, Matt couldn’t rest. He sat on the edge of his cot, his legs cramping, wishing for death. In the dark and quiet, his thoughts turned once again to Shane. Why had he DORed? He’d been doing so well, finishing strong in each evolution and motivating everyone else.

It made no sense, and Matt’s exhausted brain couldn’t come up with any reasonable explanation except that he was just a lousy quitter.

“Well, good riddance,” Matt muttered, bitterness threatening to swamp him. “What a loser.”

He looked around the fetid-smelling tent. A couple of the other guys weren’t sleeping either, though most had passed out cold. When the whistles shrilled indicating rest time was over, Matt and the other non-sleepers tried to drag them up with words of encouragement, helping them stand and getting them outside.

“You know the drill. Get wet and sandy!”

Like a horde of zombies, the men lurched toward the ocean. After lying still for so long, muscles had stiffened and seized up, so a few dropped to crawling. Matt tripped and fell, sprawling flat on his face. It took everything he had to get up again and immerse himself in the frigid water.