BUD/S

The US Navy releases new SEAL selection and training video

In an apparent move to attract more candidates, the Navy has released a new recruiting video about the Navy SEAL selection and training process.

Many people don’t realize that shiny military career fields in special operations—such as SEALs, Green Berets, Rangers, Pararescuemen, and Marine Recon—serve as a great way to recruit quality people for the big Navy, Army, Air Force, or Marine Corps. The high attrition rates of selection and training programs for any special operations unit mean that most people who enter the military with the dream of becoming a hard-charging pipe-hitter end up failing and serving out their enlistment in a comparatively unremarkable military occupational specialty (MOS). Recruiters and their commands, of course, understand that SOF is a recruiting gem—as should any aspiring commando—and thus place added emphasis on them. Enter a Navy recruiting office, and chances are you’ll be greeted by a huge poster of a tough SEAL challenging you with his gaze rather than a poster of a mass communications specialist.

This video was released at a moment when the reputation of the Naval Special Warfare Command (NSWC) isn’t at its best. With the legal affairs of Chief Gallagher and numerous other incidents—such as the murder of Green Beret Sergeant Logan Melgar, in which two SEAL Team 6 operators were involved—fresh in mind, the Navy seems to wish to divert attention to the positive aspects of the SEAL community.

As the video states, Special Warfare Operators (SOs) are a collective group of Navy SEALs trained in everything from clandestine underwater operations to High Altitude Low Opening (HALO) or High Altitude High Opening (HAHO) free-fall parachuting.

The video goes over the equipment that SEALs might use downrange (it mentions only the very basic stuff, such as M4 rifles, Sig Sauer and Glock pistols, etc., without exploring the more high-speed options available to a SEAL operator once he’s in a SEAL platoon).

The video also covers some of the different environmental training that SEALs undergo. It specifically mentions the arctic warfare portion of SEAL training that takes place in Kodiak, Alaska. SEAL candidates are plunged into freezing-cold water for carefully calculated lengths of time (wind, water, air temperature, and the physical state of the candidates determine the duration of the forced ice bath).

A great point that the video makes is that foreknowledge about the selection process isn’t going to help an aspiring SEAL succeed. The fame of the SEAL teams, which has swelled to absurd levels since Operation Neptune Spear (the mission to kill Osama bin Laden), means their selection and training process has been studied and scrutinized relentlessly. Even before the Global War on Terror began there were documentaries about Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL (BUD/S) training. As a result, candidates enter the pipeline better prepared than any of their predecessors. But it matters not if one knows when Hell Week is coming or how many log PT sessions per week he will be doing. It’s the mental stamina and grit that will make or break a candidate. It has always been and will always be.

This article was written by Stavros Atlamazoglou at NEWSREP

Feature image courtesy of WikiMedia Commons via the U.S. Navy

Special Operations Command considers keto diet for SEALs

In what is bound to be a controversial decision, the Special Operations Command (SOCOM) is pondering establishing a mandatory keto diet for its maritime operators. The rationale behind the move is that such a diet would make diving operations more efficient and effective.

A ketogenic diet is high in fat with a moderate intake of protein and very limited carbohydrates. The goal is to force the body into ketosis, which means instead of using carbs for fuel, the body adjusts and utilizes fats, thereby making it easier to burn through a person’s established stores of fat. Butter, oils, nuts, cheese, meat, fish, eggs, and low-carb vegetables are the staples of a keto diet.

“You can carry even more calories because fats weigh less, which is an advantage,” said Dr. Jeff Volek, a professor at Ohio State University’s Department of Human Sciences, in a statement to Military Times.

Lisa Sanders, SOCOM’s director of science and technology, said in a press interview during the 2019 Special Operations Forces Industry Conference, that “one of the effects of truly being in ketosis is that it changes the way your body handles oxygen deprivation, so you can actually stay underwater at depths for longer periods of time and not go into oxygen seizures.”

If indeed SOCOM decides to commit to the decision, it will include the SEAL Teams of Naval Special Warfare Command, the Special Forces dive teams, certain Marine Raider teams, and the majority of the Special Operations airmen (combat controllers, pararescuemen, and special reconnaissance operators are qualified combat divers).

Sanders went on to say to Business Insider that SOCOM is already experimenting, through a small business research program, with the benefits of the ketogenic diet to altitude-induced hypoxia, which can be caused when operating in high-altitude environments, such as the mountains of Afghanistan. Moreover, Sanders said they are looking at how to achieve ketosis through non-dietary means.

“That kind of technology is available today,” Sanders said. “We can tell whether you are or are not in ketosis. We have really good indications of how to put you in ketosis. And we know statistically what that does to your ability to sustain oxygen. In addition, we are tracking two additional studies funded through the Office of Naval Research assessing ketosis results in other extreme environments that are relevant to SOF war-fighters.”

Nutrition is one of the core pillars of fitness, along with training and rest. But foresight is key. What would happen, for instance, if operators on a keto diet find themselves behind enemy lines (which is expected, after all), and don’t have access to the fancy treats of the diet, thereby losing the benefits of ketosis?

Feature image courtesy of the U.S. Navy

This article was written by Stavros Atlamazoglou at NEWSREP

Stories from Delta Force: The time I worked submarine operations with US Navy SEALs

How does a man who is not a Navy SEAL manage to tag along with a SEAL team for a week of submarine operations? Mostly dumb luck, is my sterling response. I was a combat diver assigned to a Green Beret A-Team when my boss caught me in his crosshairs with an invitation from West Coast SEAL Team Five to join them for a week of submarine underway operations.

At that point my Green Beret team had only ever done extensive dry dock-side trunk operations—that is, we practiced submarine escape trunk operations but only on boats moored in port. None of us had ever been truly underway at sea. This, as I look back on my career, was the opportunity of a lifetime, and when opportunity knocked I always opened the door. “Never turn anything down but your shirt collar” was a personal policy of mine.

I reported to the SEAL team at NAB Coronado, California. I was there a day early and elected to hang out with them for a full day of their typical shore duty, to include their morning physical training session. I would have to invent a new language to describe how brutal that workout was, for I can’t find words in English to suit it. (Although the German words unglaublich schrecklichkeit fit nicely.)

The ground calisthenics were a real punishment, but the run in the sand of Coronado’s beaches was a great thrill in spite of the constant, ear-splitting sonic booms rendered by the speed of the pace. Much to my personal pride, I managed to remain firmly in the center of the pack—by no means up front where the gazelles lock horns.

After breakfast, lockers filled with Heckler and Koch MP5 submachine guns and SIG Sauer P-226 semi-auto pistols were brought out for cleaning. They had all been exposed to seawater and sand the night before. I was horrified that the weapons had been left for so many hours exposed to salt water, but I was in Rome, so I shut my big fat Roman pie hole and began cleaning.

Heckler and Koch MP-5 9 x 19mm submachine gun (Wikipedia Commons)

“Dude, you like, totally don’t have to do this, dude,” one of the SEALs offered in a dude sandwich.

“Dude, I’m like, totally fine with it, dude,” I returned as I broke down a gat. The salty brethren of ST-5 seemed to take a liking to me for helping with weapons cleaning, a detested task in special operations once you have done it 5,000 times.

They even chatted with me. Granted, most of it I didn’t understand, though I did nod often with enthusiasm, throwing in my own occasional “dude.” We cleaned and duded the rest of the afternoon, the scurvy bilge rats “cleaning” on average two to three weapons for every one I cleaned. I was wearing my non-Roman on my sleeve.

We chugged for a day and a night to get to our rendezvous with our boat, the venerable Sturgeon-class Fast-Attack USS Hawkbill (SSN-666). The number 666 was ominous enough, coupled with the fact that the night before we left I had watched “Das Boot,” a movie about the perils of a Nazi U-Boat during WWII. Yep, I could kick myself in the balls with the best of them.

Onboard the Hawkbill we schlepped metric tons of gear to the torpedo room where we slept and operated for the next week. It was crowded…my God, it was so crowded. It was so crowded in there you had to step outside of the torpedo room just to say, “It’s crowded in there!” And nudity—I have never seen such nudity in my life. The two pasty-faced torpedo room hands from the boat didn’t help, either, sharing their torpedo room humor as I passed by:

“Wow, Chucky…these SEAL fellows got some nice asses,” one of them began with a wry grin.

“I’m not a SEAL; I’m an Army Green Beret!” I protested, “But…thanks…man….”

USS Sturgeon-class Fast-Attack Hawkbill (USN-666) (Wikipedia Commons)

The climb up to the escape trunk was nuts. We had to stepladder our way up three levels of bunk beds with sailors sleeping in them to get to the escape hatch. There are only enough bunks for roughly half of the crew on a submarine, so half of the crew works while the other half sleeps, a practice called hot-bunking. We pipe-hitters slept on torpedoes under the pining gaze of the pasty-faced torpedo hands.

The trunk was crowded…my God, it was so crowded. At least I thought ahead enough to say, “It’s crowded” before I got in there. Thankfully, everyone was fully-clothed, which was of personal comfort to me. I mean, I appreciate a nice physique as much as the next person, just not from less than two millimeters away.

Looking up into the escape trunk from the lower hatch (Getty Images)

The trunk was flooded with seawater to just below the level of our noses. One by one we took deep breaths, submerged to pass through the escape hatch, and ascended to the sea surface. At the surface was a small inflatable boat tethered to the submarine. We floated in the water, clinging to the inflatable. I reveled in the glory of the view of the massive boat some 50 feet below us. It was majestic and imposing; I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of it.

Suddenly an object came into view. One of the divers’ weight belts had come loose and it sank toward the boat. It was a wide nylon strap with a quick-release buckle and lead weights attached. “Bummer,” I thought for the man; it would be difficult for him to sink back to the escape hatch.

I shook my head at the glaring fact that the diver’s dive knife and emergency smoke/flare was attached to the belt. That was a safety violation, as nothing is allowed to be attached to the weight belt: It is the first piece of gear that is to be jettisoned in the event of an emergency. Now the diver had lost his most important emergency equipment to boot—his dive knife and signaling device.

The author’s photo of his own USN dive tool and Mark 13 signal smoke/flare

CRACK

The ensemble struck the hull of the boat. Oh, the captain of the ship was not happy about that and might scrub our dive operations for the day. Ship captains already hated this sort of lock-in/lock-out maneuver because a procedural error could, no shit, sink a boat. The belt scraped along as it slowly slipped down the curved contour of the sub until it fell away to Davy Jone’s Locker.

I knew the poor brother would get a double helping of grief because he had committed a grand blunder and because he had done it in front of an Army puke. I took it with a grain because, even though the team was driven by seasoned leadership, it was jammed with fresh recruits from the most recent graduation of the Navy SEAL’s BUD/S class—junior operators. That element would manifest itself again in mere moments.

All the men were taken back down to the escape trunk one at a time by a safety diver with a twin breathing hose (regulator) attached to SCUBA tanks. He could breathe from one and his passenger could breathe from the other. Our procedure called for each man entering the trunk to hold a regulator outside of the trunk for the next diver to transition to before he crowded into the trunk.

The safety diver passed me the regulator, which I clenched in my teeth. I saw that a hook had come undone on my life vest and struggled to redo it. Without giving a signal to submerge, the safety diver dove down toward the trunk. As both my hands were busy hooking my vest, I was dragged to the trunk by the regulator clasped in my teeth, my ears threatening to explode from the inability to equalize sinus pressure.

Again, without a signal, the diver pulled the regulator from my mouth and left. I was beginning to drift a little south of pleased by now, and furthermore, the last diver had failed to hold out a regulator of the ship’s air for me to breathe. I peered into the hatch to see a forest of thrashing legs. I couldn’t hold my breath any longer and bulldozed my way into the trunk.

When I broke into the air bubble there was loud panicked screaming from the men. The water line had risen too high and the trunk operator’s attempt to blow the water level back down revealed that the air blow pipe was submerged and creating a hurricane of wind, noise, and water spray in the small air space that remained.

Schematic of a nuclear submarine escape trunk (Wikipedia Commons)

Quickly, though, the water line blew down to the normal depth and the trunk operator, a well-seasoned senior SEAL, immediately grabbed control of the junior men. He got them to calm down and regain composure. I was just a spectator in awe. I cast zero judgments on these men. It was my first time too, but I had by that time been through enough insane situations that very little nudged me over the edge.

With the trunk drained and equalized in pressure with the boat, the inner hatch was thrown open and the men filed out. I was the last out before the trunk operator, who always remained behind to close out operations with the con over 31MC. In silence, I reached out my hand to George, the trunk operator. He smiled definitively and shook his head slowly as he rendered a spirited handshake.

Day one of high-risk operations with America’s elite was not at all a waste. I was pleased with how it all worked out, with all I did and did not do. After a stint in the restroom, I learned that the valve sequence instructions for flushing waste down the boat’s head was an even more cheek-clenching (no pun intended) experience than the escape trunk had been that day. And, speaking of cheek clenching, it was back to the torpedo room for more ass worship from the pasty-face deckhands.

United States Navy SEALs: when it absolutely, positively has to have its ass kicked overnight!

By almighty God and with honor,
Geo sends

Naval Special Warfare Fitness Training Tips

There are numerous training guides you can purchase as well as YouTube videos highlighting fitness tips and techniques whether you’re preparing for a military selection course or just trying to maintain a certain level of fitness. Personally, I prefer to use bodyweight exercises and maintenance runs to maintain my preferred level of fitness. I recently shared my deck of cards workout which consists of push-ups, sit-ups, air squats and burpees. For my running, I choose to run 3 to 4 miles several times a week. Whatever your fitness program is, it will require discipline on your part, but the benefits will be rewarding, improve your quality of life and longevity.

With exercise comes hydration. In order to get the most out of your physical fitness regimen, you need to remain hydrated before, during and after your training evolution.

If you’re looking for some additional conditioning exercises to prep for BUD/S or any other selection course check them out at the Naval Special Warfare website HERE.

Featured image courtesy of DoD

The secret to passing Navy SEAL selection

CORONADO, Calif. (Jan. 17, 2019) A gift, in the form of a large boulder, from the students of Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL (BUD/S) class 250 sits in the middle of a parking lot at Naval Special Warfare Center, home to the BUD/S training facility. Class 250 included Medal of Honor recipient Petty Officer Second Class (SEAL) Michael A. Monsoor who was killed in action September 29, 2006. The second Zumwalt-class guided-missile destroyer, USS Michael Monsoor (DDG-1001), is scheduled to be commissioned during a ceremony aboard Naval Air Station North Island, Jan. 26. (U.S. Navy Photo by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class Devin Monroe/Released). DVIDS.

Among other things, U.S. Navy SEALs are known for their imagination and intrepidity. Those characteristics are instilled in them from very early on in their careers. Indeed, the initiation begins during the Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL (BUD/S) training, where students are encouraged to think outside the box. The results of this thinking, however, can sometimes be hilarious.

In one of their last acts as BUD/S students, the sailors of class 250 transported a huge boulder of unknown origin and planted it in the middle of the parking lot of the Naval Special Warfare Center (NSWC). NSWC is the training facility where aspiring Navy SEAL candidates are assessed for suitability to continue on at SEAL Qualification Training.

According to Lieutenant Tom Deshazo, who graduated with class 250 and is now the orientation officer in charge (OIC) of the Naval Special Warfare Center, the origin of the humongous boulder is unknown. “Some in BUD/S class 250 are not even sure of where it came from and how it got to its current location at the back gate of Basic Training Command,” he said. “I know it was brought there some time in the middle of the night to the surprise of the instructor staff.”

One version of the tale has class 250’s “Smurf Crew,” the boat crew comprised of the shortest members of every BUD/S class, finding the boulder in the Californian desert, loading it on a truck, and stealthily transporting it to the NSWC parking lot as a parting gift to their instructors.

Alongside the names of the graduates of class 250, there is an inscription that reads, “The secret to BUD/S is under this rock.” This intriguing message presumably refers to teamwork as the key ingredient of success in SEAL selection, since the boulder could only be placed there or moved by way of teamwork.

“The great thing about the story behind the rock is that it inspires the sailors who see it when they are at Basic Training Command,” added Deshazo. ”I have heard more than one story over the years; some have elements of truth, some are totally off base, but all are meant to motivate sailors.”

Leaving some kind of monument behind for the instructors and future BUD/S classes isn’t unheard of. For example, BUD/S class 300 left behind a Spartan shield that had engraved on it the names of the successful graduates.

On an interesting note, Medal of Honor recipient Michael Monsoor graduated with BUD/S class 250. Petty Officer 2^nd Class (SEAL) Monsoor selflessly jumped on a grenade during an engagement with Iraqi insurgents on September 29, 2006. In doing so, he sacrificed his life so his brothers-in-arms would survive.

Originally published on NEWSREP

How a T-shirt got me through Navy SEAL training Hell Week (Pt. 2)

In my previous article, I discussed how visualization—or what I call “paradise from the pain”—can help us get through challenging or difficult times by allowing us to live in the moment that comes after the pain or discomfort.

But how do we do that? How can we train our brains to focus on what’s up ahead and not on what we’re experiencing now?

Training a SEAL to tackle Hell Week

I was recently preparing a young man for SEAL training. It was a hot Southern California day—the dry Santa Ana winds were blowing—and we were heading up a dusty firebreak by my house in San Diego.

“What is your favorite part of training?” I asked him. “I mean, when do you feel the best?”

“When I’m working really hard,” he said.

“Really?” I asked. “For me, my favorite part is later in the day or night when that feeling of having lived a badass day comes, knowing I did everything I needed to do to live the life I want to live.”

“Oh yeah, well, sure, that part is the best,” he said with a bit of hesitation.

I went on. “I used to struggle with the part of my training when I had to get ready at home, drive there, and then, like, the first 15 minutes. Sometimes it would even cause me to skip training altogether. That ever happen to you?” I asked him, knowing the answer.

“Well, yeah,” he confessed reluctantly, as if not wanting to get up, get ready, and head out the door to train would instantly disqualify him from ever becoming a SEAL.

“What if I could teach you how to love that part? Do you think your training would improve?”

“Is that even possible?”

Motivation: Desire and preferences are under your control

“Of course it’s possible,” I said. If I lived my life thinking that my motivations, desires, likes, and hates were something permanent, something that I was born with, I’d still be sitting on the beach stoned on too much salt and sand instead of being a former Navy SEAL and an accomplished writer.

I taught the young man how to use the technique of visualization. I said, “From now on, when it’s time to get ready to train—you know, that part you’re not looking forward to—I want you to intensely visualize yourself relaxing in the evening and doing the things you like to do. Imagine your surroundings, what you’re wearing, what you see, and pay very close attention to that feeling of having lived a badass day. Be that guy who’s training to be a Navy SEAL and really feel how that guy feels.”

“That’s it?” he asked. “It sounds kind of airy-fairy.”

“I know, but it’s actually more scientific than it sounds,” I said. “There’s some biology in play here.”

Getting high

In our bodies, there’s an organic chemical called dopamine. It’s released by neurons to send signals to other nerve cells. In our bodies, dopamine plays a major role in reward-motivated behavior. To put it in simple terms, our brains release dopamine when we experience pleasure and also when we anticipate experiencing pleasure.

That’s where the visualization comes in.

We can train—or trick—our brains to feed off these burst of dopamine when we envision ourselves reaping the rewards of our hard work or training. Don’t like paying your bills? Visualize yourself relaxing on the couch afterward and watching television after having completed the task. Hate doing homework? Focus on how good it feels to get a good grade before you start.

Over time, you can transition some of your insufferable activities so that they are not only sufferable, but entirely pleasurable. Now that’s paradise!

Debrief

What in your life did you once dislike, but now love? Brussel sprouts? Working out? Running? Spending time with your family? What made your feelings toward this thing or activity change?
What unpleasant activity would you transform to pleasurable now if you could? Why?

Originally published on SOFREP and written by ERIC DAVIS