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Is there any reason that I should choose you over Phillips or this skinny shit from the backwoods of Arkansas?"
"No sir!" was the quick curt response from Moore. "Do you think you could hack the kind of crap we hand out and come back for more?"
"Yes sir!" responded Moore who this time literally shouted and took the Lt. aback.
Again in his icy demeanor the Lt. began "Gentlemen, don't be fooled. Think this over for 24 hours and let me know tomorrow. I do not want to underestimate to you the danger of what you'll be getting into." He now started in a softer yet still icy demeanor. "You'll be refitted to the uniform which I wear, you will be given different equipment."
"Everything about you will have to change. The last of which will be your personality that will have to become more aggressive than you are now. You will not ever be the same again because you will be the Navy's finest. Unlike those shit heads that go down and sink a perfectly good ship, you know the type, we call them "Bubbleheads" Not only that you will have to become something you were not trained to be. You gentlemen just learned to heal people and save their lives. These won't be Marines or Sailors you'll be facing and you will have to learn to kill. The North Vietnamese Army is a group of trained killers and don't believe in saving the "Baksee" or docs. Can you learn to do this to save your fellow Seal brothers?"
Both Moore and Simms agreed that they could, and that they didn't have to think it over. Although neither had any idea what they had just committed themselves too.
"Very well Gentlemen," the LT continued, "get your shit and come back here."
Upon their return to the Colonial's state room the Colonial again addressed them "Remember Docs," Colonial Reischman began, "if you don't like this kind of bull shit that the Seals have to offer you can return to me anytime without any prejudice of any sort." He continued, "Not everyone is built to handle this kind of thing and not everyone is able to keep up with it. If you discover you can't let the LT. know and he'll return you without any problem. I say again without any problem. Right Lieutenant O'Malley?"
"Right Colonial Reischman." The LT. responded. "If you can't hack it I need to know early, but at least wait until you have had at least one mission gents is all I ask. Fair enough?"
"Yes sir!" They both responded in unisance. Neither Moore or Simms knew it but they were both about to become very close friends even though neither had ever before met each other. Better than that they would become brothers.
The team members believed, that the two corpsmen would be capable of functioning in the field with the team on certain operations if the two were to stay with the medical end alone. However, additional training was given to both Simms and to Moore. Also the Lieutenant had both Moore and Simms scheduled for Basic Underwater Demolition Team training at Coronodo Island to insure the two fledglings (otherwise known as FNG'S that stands for fucking new guys) didn't blow themselves and the rest of the teams up. This was slotted for early January through the fourth week in March of 1969.
Daily the rigorous physical training was done for four hours each morning. One thing about the team was their excellent gym equipment that they had. Each day after chow at 0500 they commenced and didn't finish until sometimes after 1100. This was in part due to the additional one to one training that the team members were giving the two "FNG'S" as they were called. This demanding training continued for over one month. The Lieutenant would train with them and would show various techniques of how to use hand to hand techniques, never the less, all were intended for one and only one purpose. They trained in use of the knife in hand to hand combat if needed.
One of the team members, a White Mountain Apache from Arizona, was Jerry's trainer.