About two weeks later, this Marine master sergeant called the clinic sounding irate. He said, “What’s the name of the doc who told my private to put piss on his face? I saw him in the head this morning splashing it on his face like it was some kind of cologne.”
We laughed our heads off. Don’t mess with the docs.
I finished up my assignment to Japan and finally, in May of ’82, when I was back in the States assigned to a Navy Reserve unit in Easton, Pennsylvania, and working temporarily as a prison guard, I received my orders to report to BUD/S.
I was ecstatic. This was it. I called my parents and my girlfriend, Kim, and said, “Finally, finally, my goal is within reach!”
I had no backup plan. It was SEALs or nothing.
Chapter Five
BUD/S
The more sweat and tears you put into the training, the less blood you’ll shed in time of war.
—Basic Underwater Demolition/
SEAL motto
Have you ever heard of something called heart-rate variability (HRV)? It’s a real medical phenomenon discovered by a guy named Dr. Charles Morgan of Yale University that’s used to predict which soldiers are likely to perform most efficiently under the stress of combat.
Most people have a large degree of variability in their heart rates during the course of a day. In other words, your heart speeds up and slows down all the time, depending on conditions—like whether someone is pointing a gun at your head or you’re lounging by the pool drinking a Dos Equis.
But many SEALs and other Special Forces types have what is called a metronomic heartbeat, meaning the heart thumps like a metronome, with the beats evenly spaced, not speeding up or slowing down.
And no, we’re not cyborgs.
Our hearts do this, it turns out, because our brains release a higher level of a neurotransmitter called neuropeptide Y (NPY) than most people’s brains do. NPY works as a natural tranquilizer that controls anxiety and buffers the effects of stress hormones like norepinephrine.
Dr. Morgan found that those with metronomic heartbeats perform better than others in survival school, underwater-navigation testing, and close-quarters battle because their systems are able to manage a very elevated degree of stress. Today, HRV is one of the factors used in the selection of SEALs.
But there’s a downside. Dr. Morgan also found that the metronomic effect is often associated with early heart disease and even sudden death. Apparently, the body chemistry that allows young people to survive under high stress does not translate into optimal heart health past the age of fifty.
I realized my own unusual response to danger the first time I had a gun pointed at me.
I was a newly licensed sixteen-year-old driving like a maniac down the Boston Post Road, my arm around my girlfriend, Lynn, and a beer in my lap. I had my ’68 Pontiac Firebird cranked up to ninety-five miles an hour and was trying to hit a hundred.
We were flying, passing other vehicles as if they were standing still, when this dark Chevy sedan pulled up beside me. The driver wore reflector shades, and his hair was buzzed short. You know the type.
Figuring that he was a cop, I slowed down to eighty. He motioned for me to pull over.
Lynn didn’t want me to.
I stopped and got out.
The thick-necked guy stomped over and grabbed me by the arm. He said, “You’re coming with me, punk. I’m an undercover cop and I’m hauling your ass in.”
I asked, “If you’re a cop, where’s your badge?”
“I’m not showing you shit! Come with me!”
He was big, loud, and aggressive.
I said, “No, I’m not.”
Lynn grabbed my other arm and said, “Let’s go with him, Don. Come on.”
“No!”
For some reason I had a feeling that I could talk my way out of it if I held my ground.
Red-faced now, the big guy pulled out a gun and stuck it in my stomach. He said, “Now you’re coming. Let’s go, punk.”
We were eye to eye, so close that I could smell his breath. I said, “I’m not going with you.”
Lynn pleaded, “Please, Don! Stop arguing. Let’s just do what he wants.”
“No.”
We stood nose to nose for half a minute, then the big guy put his revolver away, walked to his car, and drove off. Lynn was a mess, but I was perfectly calm.
Sometimes I think I’m at my best in dangerous situations. I thrive under stress and like living on the edge.
Another time, shortly before I went to BUD/S, my father and brother and I went to Easton, Pennsylvania, to see heavyweight champion Larry Holmes fight. We parked our car in a lot and walked to the arena, passing by this car parked across the street with a couple in the front seat.
They were both hysterical and holding a baby upside down by the ankles. I ran over to the car and said, “I’m a medic. Can I help you?”