Part 3 (1/2)

I liked that kind of challenge.

Then the recruiter started telling me about all the missions SEALs, and their predecessors, the UDTs, had completed. (UDTs were members of Underwater Demolition Teams, frogmen who scouted enemy beaches and undertook other special warfare a.s.signments beginning in World War II.) There were stories about swimming between obstructions on j.a.panese-held beaches and gruesome fights behind the lines in Vietnam. It was all bad-a.s.s stuff, and when I left there, I wanted to be a SEAL in the worst way.

Many recruiters, especially the good ones, have more than a little larceny in them, and this one was no different. When I came back and was about to sign the papers, he told me I had to turn down the signing bonus if I wanted to make sure I got the SEAL contract.

I did.

He was full of it, of course. Having me turn down the bonus made him look pretty good, I'm sure. I don't doubt he's got a great career ahead of him as a used-car salesman.

The Navy did not promise that I would be a SEAL; I had to earn that privilege. What they did guarantee, though, was that I would have a chance to try out. As far as I was concerned, that was good enough, because there was no way that I was going to fail.

The only problem was that I didn't even get a chance to fail.

The Navy disqualified me when my physical revealed that I had pins in my arm from the rodeo accident. I tried arguing, I tried pleading; nothing worked. I even offered to sign a waiver saying that I'd never make the Navy responsible for anything that happened to my arm.

They flat-out turned me down.

And that, I concluded, was the end of my military career.

THE CALL

With the military ruled out, I focused on making a career out of ranching and being a cowboy. Since I already had a good job on a ranch, I decided there was really no sense staying in school. I quit, even though I was less than sixty credits shy of graduating.

David doubled my pay and gave me more responsibilities. Larger offers eventually lured me to other ranches, though for different reasons I kept coming back to David's ranch. Eventually, just before the winter of 199798, I found my way out to Colorado.

I took the job sight-unseen, which turned out to be a big mistake. My thinking was, I'd been spending all my time in the Texas flatlands, and a move to the mountains would be a welcome change of scenery.

But wouldn't you know it: I got a job at a ranch in the only part of Colorado flatter than Texas. And a good deal colder. It wasn't long before I called up David and asked if he needed some help.

”Come on back,” he told me.

I started to pack, but I didn't get very far. Before I finished making arrangements to move, I got a phone call from a Navy recruiter.

”Are you still interested in being a SEAL?” he asked.

”Why?”

”We want you,” said the recruiter.

”Even with the pins in my arm?”

”Don't worry about that.”

I didn't. I started working on the arrangements right away.

CHAPTER 2