Being yelled and shouted at by the lean muscular guy that gave insults after insults, Lance was really enjoying this
While the other people in the helicopter who were pilots flew the aircraft, he was being brought a future of hard cold work
He did not know why but he did like this, the thrill and the non-stop action that he could envision was nice
The Black Hawk was speeding through the blue ocean fast and in a couple of hours, splotches of land were ahead
Landing on ground surrounded by buildings and beach terrain, the outer doors opened
Lance hopping out of the BlackHawk saw groups of men having logs on their shoulders and running with them
He guessed that they must have been the early BUDs training team almost graduating
There were other people a couple meters away in a formation and they all had their bodies still
Stepping on the concrete floor a momentary silence was here until the loud yelling of the 'Instructor' got him out of his stupor
"GET IN THE FORMATION NOW AND STAY AT ATTENTION!" The instructor rushed up to his ear and yelled this, Lance definitely did not diddle and went to the formation copying the other people
Three other men just as muscular as the other showed up and started yelling profanities
One of them stood in the front and began yelling new instructions, "LEFT FACE", "RIGHT FACE"
As they were following the instructions from the man, Lance even though he was new quickly adapted to what was being done
The man stopped his instructions when all of them were in front of him again and signled to the other three men with him to do something
He instructed them to drop down on the ground and to start doing push-ups
All the men on the ground without delay started doing push-ups in full force
One, two, five, twenty, fifty, sixty and they kept on going
Lance was adapting surprisingly fast to this intense exercise even though he had not done this at all
He guessed it had something to do with himself but he was not entirely sure
After a while with everyone still doing push-ups with sweat dripping heavily everywhere, Lance really did feel exhausted still he didn't want to quit
Even though they were doing these push ups for who knows how long, the instructors hosing them with cold water made them not stop
When one of them stopped the push-ups an instructor that had a hat on went up to him
Yelling insults and provoking them if the man didn't continue their pushups worked
Everyone doing push-ups had a tired body including Lance
Getting his last push up in, he slumped to the ground with everyone else
The instructors at this point gave each of them four hours to sleep and shower before resuming
Lance getting up from the floor heard this and don't think much of it because he anticipated this
Walking into one of the buildings with the other guys various rooms were present
Lance and none of the guys talked becuss of the tiredness so each of them picked a room and the building went silent
Entering a room in the far end of the building, it would seem to Lance that this accomodation was not bad at least in his standard
One bed with sheets and a pillow as well as a sink, a medium sized desk nestled in the corner too
Flicking on the light and dropping his bag that the instructor had given to him, exhaustion hit him and he collapsed on the bed
"WAKE UP AND GET TO THE PADS!"
Waking up with seemingly no dreams or anything of the sort, soreness was all over him but upon standing it went away
Primarily waking up because of the yell a yawn escaped his mouth
'Weird'
Although he wasn't too surprised by this as he had already experienced stuff like this happen, adjustment still needed time
One logical explanation for this was his four hour sleep but who knows
Lance noticed that the light was on and he remembered that he turned it on before going to sleep
No matter he isn't the one paying the now expensive electrical bill, he imagined those high management people getting a fright from this
He cleaned himself up and put on some new clothes from the bag that he got now jogging to the main area
Upon arriving there were already a few dozen men standing at attention, Lance hurriedly went behind one of the men and went to attention
After a few minutes of other men sprinting to the formation all the instructors went to the front
"Put this on everybody" The instructors handed out life jackets to the men at attention and they quickly put them on
Following the instructors that started walking to a direction the cold grew more
Now jogging what was ahead was a beach that had logs scatterered uniformly and black boats in the tide
One of the instructors jogged faster and went to where the water was
"Form a horizontal line and sit down" Everyone went up to the tide and with there hands on their life jackets sat down
The icy water seeped through their uniforms, biting at their skin as the tide rolled in and out. Lance clenched his jaw, his hands gripping his life jacket tightly to steady himself against the cold. The men on either side of him were shivering, their breaths misting in the early morning chill. The instructors paced up and down the line, their boots crunching against the damp sand. One of them—a tall man with a square jaw and piercing eyes—stopped in front of Lance, glaring down at him. Lance was not at all familiar with this guy
"Feeling cozy, cadet?" the instructor barked, his voice carrying over the crash of the waves.
"No, Instructor!" Lance shouted back, his voice steady despite the tremble in his body.
"Good!" The instructor moved on, barking similar questions at the others. Lance couldn't tell if the instructor was looking for a specific answer or just testing their resolve. It didn't matter, he would succeed at this.
"ON YOUR FEET!" The command was sharp and sudden, slicing through the rhythmic sound of the waves. Everyone scrambled up, their legs numb from the cold water.
"Grab those logs!" The instructor gestured toward the massive wooden logs scattered along the beach. "Team up, six per log. MOVE!"
Lance sprinted toward one of the logs, quickly falling in line with five other men. They hoisted the heavy log onto their shoulders, the weight instantly pressing down on them. The sharp sting of the saltwater on their clothes mixed with the burn of exertion as they started to jog in formation, the instructors yelling encouragement—and insults—the entire time. No cadet could hear them though because of how numb their ears were.
"FASTER! TIME IS GOING AND TIME IS SLIPPING, MOVE!" one instructor roared, his voice harsh yet oddly motivating.
As the group trudged along the sand, Lance felt a somewhat connection with these guys behind him. They didn't know each other's names, but the struggle to keep pace and bear the weight of the log, a silent bond was forming. No one wanted to be the one to falter and quit, they had come this far.
After what felt like an eternity, the instructors finally allowed them to lower the logs back to the ground. Lance's shoulders screamed in protest as the weight was lifted, and he bent over, hands on his knees, catching his breath. Around him, others did the same, their faces etched with exhaustion.
"FORM UP!" The familiar lead instructor's voice snapped them back to attention. Lance straightened up, falling into formation with the rest of the men.
"Congratulations," the instructor said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He glanced at Lance for a moment, "You've survived the pre warm-up. Now onto the next."
The men exchanged uneasy glances. Lance felt his heart race—not from fear, but from the thrill of anticipation. He was tired, yes, but something inside him relished the challenge. It wouldn't be a stretch to call him a bit masochist in fact.
"Out to the boats!" the instructor yelled. "You're about to learn the fine art of teamwork—or drown trying."
The trainees jogged to the black inflatable boats lined up along the shoreline. Each group of six hefted a boat over their heads, the cold rubber slick with sea spray. Lance's group was struggling to keep theirs steady as they carried it to the waterline.
"Hold it steady!" one of the men grunted, his voice strained.
"Got it!" Lance adjusted his grip, the muscles in his arms screaming in protest. Together, they maneuvered the boat into the churning waves, water slapping against their legs.
"IN!" came the command, and they climbed aboard, paddles in hand. The instructor blew a whistle, and the groups began rowing furiously against the tide.
The ocean was merciless, the waves battering the small boats as if mocking their efforts. Lance's exhaustion burned with every stroke, the paddle cutting through the water with rhythmic precision.
The others in his group shouted different inconceivable things to boost moral as they fought to keep their boat steady and moving forward.
"Faster! Stay in sync!" Lance called out, his voice rising over the crash of the waves. To his surprise, the others followed his lead, their movements growing more coordinated.
After what felt like hours, the instructors called them back to shore. The moment the boat touched the sand, Lance collapsed to his knees, kissing the salty sand. Around him, the others looked equally spent, their faces pale and their bodies trembling from the cold and exertion.
"Not bad," the lead instructor said, his tone grudgingly approving. "But don't get comfortable. You've got a long way to go before you graduate."
Lance looked up at the man, his vision blurred by sweat and saltwater. He didn't care about the instructor's approval—maybe later. What mattered was that he'd made it through another phase, one step closer to the finish line.
As the sun began to rise over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the beach, Lance felt a flicker of pride on himself. Although he didn't entirely know himself, he was finding some purpose in life that would lead him to places, he would be ready for whatever came.