At night, an instructor gathered us near a bonfire—he was a black SEAL, but in the Teams, everyone is the same color: green. "I'm proud of you guys. You made it to Wednesday night of Hell Week; you'll make it all the way." He joked and told stories about the Teams. "I was doing a parachute jump when I got tangled up and landed head-first, breaking my neck. The doctor put me in a halo brace. Attached it to my skull with screws, and the halo was connected to a plastic vest..."

Martinez, the Ecuadoran Special Operations guy and I stayed close to the fire but far from the SEAL instructor. Martinez and I were so close to the fire that our wet clothing smoldered. All the time, I repeated to myself: I want to get in the ocean. The ocean is so warm and peaceful. I want to get in the ocean, I want to get in the ocean...

I noticed one of my classmates standing away from the fire, shivering. Wewere expecting the same thing—different approaches—but the same expectation. The body experiences less shock going from cold to very cold; however, it takes longer for the body temperature to drop from steaming hot to very cold.

One of my classmates said to Martinez and me, "You guys are catching on fire."

Martinez and I remained in place—smoldering. "Thanks." When my front got too hot to withstand, I turned around to heat up my back. I popped open my packet of peanut butter and kept telling myself how much I wanted to get in the water.

The joking and stories went on until Instructor Januzzi arrived to relieve the other SEAL instructor. We all liked the Italian Stallion—even when he gave two other guys and me some extra attention for our Italian heritage, we were smiling. On weekends, with his leather jacket, thick black mustache, and Harley Davidson motorcycle, he looked like a Hell's Angel. Januzzi's laughter was infectious.

We were excited to see him. "HOOYAH, INSTRUCTOR BENELLI!"

"What are you people doing?" he screamed. "This is Hell Week! Get in the water! NOW!"

Seeing this other side of Januzzi shocked us, but I was happy to be heading back into the surf. It was just what I'd been hoping for. As I rolled around in my Pacific hot tub, I tried to remember every girl I had ever kissed—the innocent first grade kiss of Christina on the playground, the not-so-innocent high school kiss in the backseat of a car on a Friday night, and the others... While I sat in my hot tub reminiscing of good times, I shut out everything around me. A blur of guys rang the bell—if I had focused on them, it might’ve broken my heart. I might’ve realized how cold I was. Might’ve started feeling sorry for myself. After the demoralizing blow of Parsons being the first to ring out, this was the second worst moment of Hell Week for me. These were some of our toughest brothers, and now they were gone. The good cop-bad cop routine had taken a sizeable chunk out of us. And those of us who stuck it out were freezing our petunias off.

After the bell-ringing died, my class came out of the water to get hammered on land.

Finally, Instructor Januzzi stopped the beach games. "Now I want each of your crews to turn your boat upside down and make a lean-to shelter. Prop one side up with the paddles and make sure the open side faces away from the wind."

My crew and I finished our shelter. We waited until Instructor Januzzi came around to inspect us. "Now lie down under the boat with your heads near the closed end and your feet near the opening." Still shivering and wet, we complied, huddling up close to each other for body warmth. "I'm going to cover your bodies with sand. This will give you insulation to keep you warm." He shoveled generous amounts of sand on our bodies. "Now get some sleep. You're going to need it."

Martinez snored immediately—bastard. I crashed. Like before, I skipped over the NREM (Non-Rapid Eye Movement) stage and went straight to REM (Rapid Eye Movement): instant deep sleep. We slept for about 60 glorious minutes—our second official sleep. It was Wednesday night and we had a total of about 2 1/2 hours sleep since Sunday at midnight.

I awoke to Instructor Januzzi's command, "Hit the surf!"

We stood groggily as if everyone had been in deep sleep—either the light sleepers and non-sleepers had evolved or they were no longer with us. I couldn’t feel that sense of dread in our class anymore—just another day in Hell Week.