Walk In - Walk Out

86.

Survival, Evasion, Resistance, Escape. One hour on each subject meant we were going lights out past midnight. The DoD civilian who led the seminars was well intentioned and an unquestionable master in his area(s) of expertise but dull as dirt. Taking our collective fatigue and time of day into consideration I was surprised the team had the stamina to hold on for so long without nodding off. But they had been surprising me up to this point with amazing regularity. I still had my nightly written report to TOM as my final chore of the long day as we wrapped up and headed for the Q. 

Along the way I got an update from Saunders on Satriano’s progress in the pool, the overall morale of the group and her personal assessment of her own post-surgery rehab. 

“If I am a teacher, I am handing out straight A’s,” she summarized in a proud moment of connectivity. 

Which was the perfect lead-out for the motivational solo I had been rehearsing. 

“You and I know about the challenge, about stepping up and about accepting the reality of what we do. When we first walk in, when I stumbled in and you danced, I should say, we had no idea of actually how hard this was going to be. There is no preparation for this, not football, not the Navy, not degrees in Humanities and Social Science, heck not even marriage. Nothing will prepare you for the workload, this intensity, the degree of difficulty, the insanely long hours, the demands on your body, in your mind and of your spirit. Because if they are not in perfect harmony, something will break, a storm will pelt you with wind, rain and buckets of shit.” As we slowly walk I look at her to make sure she is with me before continuing, “and then something happens, we used to call it second wind but that isn’t precise enough, there comes a time when the miraculous mixes with the magical and we find another gear, some higher level of presence where the impossible seems achievable and the question of ‘can we do this?’ is not even asked because we already know the answer. If we put it all together, that was the moral of the swim story, there can be no weak-link. In the vacuum of this energy force nothing exists that can stop us.” I stop and look at the stars. Saunders stops and looks too.

I continue, “When we walked in we were kids playing in a sandbox. Look at what we have accomplished. Consider what is left to do. We are at the crossroads of human civilization. We have the tools to destroy, the bombs of a thousand suns, technology that would make Shiva blush. We said OK, let’s give it a go, see what we can do. And we started down the path, learning, practicing, developing, surviving, evading, resisting and escaping, living to fight other days. Through it all, leading up to this very moment, we pledged a sacred oath to serve an ideal, one that has come under attack from within as well as from foreign aggressors. Never before has the world been so gifted with prosperity and potential, and never before has if been equally so repugnant and corrupt. Our job is not so much to swing the scales of justice all the way in one direction but find a way to add balance, to keep one side from a monopoly on power.”

“You are doing a fine job with Satriano, as well as with the rest of the team, thank you for your leadership.” I say looking for the appropriate rhetoric with which to end the monologue. 

We reach the BOQ and stand in the glow of yellow incandescent light. 

“My pleasure and extreme honor,” she says with sincerity, “when you talk about the people who walked in to this, please know that you are, to a large degree, responsible for them walking out as completely different people.” 

Silence in the crisp, starry night. 

“Get some sleep, see you in a few hours.”

Her words dance in my head every minute of these precious few hours.