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<p><strong>Ray was missing his new wife, she was the only thing he could think about on the plane ride to Chicago. His dad had sprung for a first-class ticket and Ray politely refused the complimentary drinks wanting to keep his head clear for what was to come. Upon arrival he found that the terminal was huge and he busied himself looking around for the bus that would take him north to the Great Lakes Naval Training Center. He spotted a man in a Navy uniform and approached him.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“Excuse me,” he said, “can you tell me where the busses are to the training center?”</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>“You here for boot camp boy?” the man drawled.</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>“Yes sir,” Ray replied.</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>“Down them stairs and to the right,” the man snapped back, “and don’t call me sir motherfucker. I’m an enlisted man and I work for a goddam living, you whippy motherfucker.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>Ray, taken aback by the man’s brusque manner, but followed the instructions and departed into the crisp Chicago air to find several other men -- not much more than boys like himself really -- gathered outside a grey bus chatting amongst themselves. He walked up to them and introduced himself around. One of the guys took Ray’s hand shaking it vigorously:</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“I’m Jimmy Fox with one x, named after the baseball player,” he said. Where you from Ray?”</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>“Virginia,” Ray replied, “Fairfax,”</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>“Tennessee,” Jimmy said in return, “a little town nobody ever heard of. Did you meet the chief up in the concourse?”</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>“Yeah,” said Ray, “a real nice guy, warm and friendly.”</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>They all laughed. Ray and Jimmy hit it off right away, Jimmy was an easy guy to like. He was a good eight inches shorter than Ray with a shock of reddish-blonde hair, freckles, bright blue eyes, and a big infectious smile. There was something else Ray liked, a straightforward honesty -- to meet Jimmy was to know him, there was nothing at all pretentious about him and Ray appreciated that. They wound up in the same company, Company 373 commanded by a 1st class petty officer named Hollis, a swaggering cocky little man a couple of inches shorter than Jimmy. He was a nasty-tempered petty little man that the recruits would all grow to hate before long.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“Hey Ray,” Jimmy said one day while they were just hanging out with nothing much to do. “What are you going to do when we leave here?”</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>“I’m heading for Coronado,” Ray replied. “The seaman to SEALs program.”</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>Jimmy looked up at him, a new-found admiration in his eyes. “Seriously?” was all he could think of to say.</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>“What about you?” Ray asked in return.</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>“It’s submarines for me,” Jimmy replied, getting up from his lower bunk. “I’m gonna be a sonar tech. I done real well on that test and got me an A school.”</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>The more time Ray spent with Jimmy the more he liked him. Jimmy had grown up on a small farm somewhere in the hills of Tennessee raising dairy cows, but there was an intelligence behind that bland personality that Ray appreciated.</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>“We need to stay in touch when we get out of here,” Ray told his new friend.Little did they know their paths were destined to cross again more than a decade down the road.</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>“You bet buddy,” Jimmy readily agreed.</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>With Angela’s help Jill had taken up baking and sent Ray brownies and cookies she baked every week. That and her almost daily letters kept Ray going through the eight weeks of training. He generously shared his delicacies with Jimmy.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“That wife of yours sure can cook,” Jimmy remarked. “You got a picture of her?”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>Ray got his wallet out of his locker and showed Jimmy some photos of Jill.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“She sure is pretty,” Jimmy remarked. “I got me a girl, Barbara Jean. We’re fixin to get married when I finish up the Navy. I’m gonna be a lawyer, I already got me some college.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>It was hard for Ray to imagine the affable Jimmy Fox in a suit arguing a case before a judge. Jimmy retrieved a photo from his own wallet and held it out to Ray. “This here is my Barbara Jean,” he said proudly.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>At first Ray thought it was a joke, the photo looked like something clipped from a magazine. Barbara Jean, if that was really her name, looked like an A-list fashion model. He looked at his friend and saw that he was serious.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“She’s beautiful,” Ray said, still skeptical.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“Yep,” Jimmy said. “We been together since 8th grade. Where I come from, that's practically bein hitched already.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>When the 8 week ordeal was finally over he and Jimmy traded home addresses and promised to stay in touch. Jimmy was off to Groton, Connecticut for sub school and Ray headed home for a two-week leave before reporting to Coronado. Jill was waiting at the gate at Reagan International looking more beautiful than ever when he debarked. She raced into his arms kissing him madly.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“I missed you so much,” she said, kissing him over and over. “Is it me, or did you grow?” She asked, squeezing his arm.</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>“I guess,” he said, putting his arm around her. “Let’s get out of here.” He took her hand leading her to baggage claim to get his sea bag.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“You look so cute in your uniform,” Jill cooed. She put her arm around his waist and held him close.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>On the ride home Ray told Jill about boot camp, but mostly about Jimmy and his improbable girlfriend. Jill laughed.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“Do you really think she’s his girlfriend?” She asked.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“You know, Ray replied, “he’s a really honest type of guy, I can’t imagine him lying.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>Ray drove and Jill sat as close as she could get in her BMW. “I’m surprised your dad didn’t take your car away,” he said.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“He wouldn’t dare,” Jill retorted. “This car is mine.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>When they arrived at the Merrill home Ray couldn’t wait to get out of uniform and into civvies, but his parents had made reservations for dinner and insisted he wear his dress blues. It turned out to be a good trade-off, the food was wonderful after eight weeks of Navy chow. All through dinner Ray couldn’t take his eyes off his lovely wife. After dinner Ray and Jill decided to go for a drive ending up at a motel where they spent the night making passionate love. In the morning they returned home.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“That must have been some drive,” Chet said with a grin.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“Yeah,” Ray said sheepishly, before going upstairs to change into civvies.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>After breakfast Ray joined his dad in the garage. “Anything new about the Towers?” He asked his father. “I didn’t have a lot of time to catch the news, that kept us pretty busy in boot camp.”</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>“Just a coverup,” Chet responded. “You can’t trust the news anymore. Back in the 70s they had congressional hearings about journalism and the CIA -- they control the whole shooting match. You only hear what they want you to hear, Son.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“But what about the terrorists?” Ray asked. “They wouldn’t lie about them would they?”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“Ray,” his dad began, “I’m afraid you might be going to war against the wrong enemy. I don’t blame you for joining up, I would probably have done the same thing -- Lord knows I did in Vietnam, to stop the spread of Communism. But this is different, the world has changed and it’s harder to tell the good guys from the bad guys now.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“What do you mean, Dad?” Ray was visibly confused now.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“I’m just saying that some of the bad guys are in our own government… they have been for a long time,” Chet explained. “Back in Nam the CIA was running heroin back to the States, selling it to American kids. Same in the 80s with Iran Contra, selling drugs to buy guns for the Contras. The CIA is very secretive -- and very, very powerful. If you run into those guys on deployment, don’t trust ‘em for a second.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“We still have to stop terrorism don’t we,” Ray asked. The people behind the attacks…”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“Nobody from Iraq or Afghanistan were behind those attacks,” his father cut him off. “Also the way the towers were hit. Think about it, Ray -- those planes made 80 degree turns, difficult at best for expert pilots. Where were the fighter planes? All ordered not to fly. This whole thing stinks, there had to be people from our own government in on it.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“Wow,” Ray said, looking into his father’s eyes, “that’s a lot to think about.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“I know it is,” Chet replied, putting his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I want you to stay safe. I don’t want to lose my oldest son to some government screwup.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>Ray got another cup of coffee from the pot his dad kept in the garage while waiting for Jill to get ready. They were going to visit friends and do a little shopping. Their scant two weeks together would fly by and their next separation would be much longer, over a year during which they would not see each other. She would be able to join him for 19 weeks at Ft. Sam Houston for corpsman training before going back for more specialized training. Then would come his deployment.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>Just like that, it seemed, their two weeks were up. Jill drove Ray to Reagan International once again, this time for his flight to San Diego and Coronado, the home of BUD/s training. Jill clung to him at the gate, her heart breaking at the prospect of their year apart. She would quickly learn the difficulty of being a SEAL wife. She watched until the plane was in the air, tears streaming down both cheeks. His absence would only make her love him more. Thank God she had his family to turn to in her loneliness.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>To help ease the boredom borne out of loneliness, Jill enrolled for some classes at William and Mary College in nearby Reston. Unbeknownst to her at the time it was the same college attended by Leo Graham. All through high school Jill had rebuffed his advances and Leo had decided to renew his efforts, perhaps her being married made the chase more interesting, but it was more likely due to the encouragement by Jill's father, Bob Shepherd.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>She had opted for night classes, preferring to stick around the house helping Angela and attempting to help Chet in the garage. The house seemed so empty in Ray’s absence she thought she would go mad. Jill spent long hours writing letters to Ray, and revelled in the ones he wrote back, as infrequent as they were. She understood that his training was grueling and his time was limited, but their correspondence succored them both through this difficult time.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>About a month into Ray’s absence Leo approached her after class wanting to talk. He had purposely signed up for one of the classes he knew that Jill attended. It was cold and Leo suggested that they sit in Jill’s car. He immediately attempted to kiss her while trying to slide his hand up her the long plaid skirt she wore. She fought him off valiantly, but the more she struggled the more determined he became. Finally, she raked her nails down the left side of his face scratching his eye and scarring his cheek. He slapped her viciously across the face before Jill was able to push him away with her foot and exit the car screaming.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>A nearby campus police officer heard the scream and raced to the scene. Jill, upset and crying, attempted to explain, but Leo quickly turned the tables and accused Jill of attacking him without provocation. Because it was Leo who was injured, the officer immediately took her into custody.</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>Using her credit cards to bail herself out, she returned home to the Merrills and told Chet and Angela what had happened between sobs. She begged them not to tell Ray what had happened during his weekly call home. “He has enough on him as it is without this,” she cried.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>Confident that her father would understand and help, she called him for assistance but he coldly refused. “You made your own bed, now you have to lie in it,” he said icily. “I will do nothing to besmirch a good boy like Leo Graham, it could affect his whole future.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“What about my future Daddy,” she wailed. “I’m your daughter.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“I’ve said all I have to say on this matter,” he said, hanging up abruptly.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>She went upstairs and cried herself to sleep. The next morning she awoke feeling sick. At breakfast she had no appetite and Angela asked if she felt well. “No,” Jill answered, “I feel sick to my stomach, I guess from last night's excitement.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>Angela, recognizing the symptoms, suggested a doctor’s visit.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“I’ll be fine,” Jill replied, “I don’t need a doctor.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“When’s the last time you had a period?” Angela asked a concerned look on her face.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“It’s been awhile...“ Jill looked up at her mother-in-law with a surprised expression on her face. “You don’t think… Oh my God, do you think…”</strong></p>
<p><strong>Angela nodded. “Let’s get some of those little tests at the drugstore just to make sure.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>They got dressed and left for the drugstore telling Chet they had some shopping to do. On the way, Angela insisted they stop to get a restraining order against Leo Graham. Jill’s arraignment was the next morning in Reston and looking like the injured party she was couldn’t hurt according to Angela. Upon returning home, all three of the tests confirmed Angela’s observation -- Jill was pregnant. Angela was thrilled at the prospect of grandchildren, as was Chet… poor Jill didn’t know how to feel. Most of all she felt lonely for Ray and beaten because of the situation with Leo Graham, if only Ray was here.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>Chet and Angela accompanied Jill to her arraignment, which went surprisingly well. The judge turned out to be an honorable man, no friend of either Judge Graham or Jill’s father, the District Attorney in Fairfax. Leo didn’t bother to show up so the judge dismissed the case out of hand. Leo would carry a reminder of his perfidy for the rest of his life, long red scars stretching from his forehead, across his eye, and down his cheek. He would also carry a resentment toward Jill and Ray for as long as he carried the scars. The judge extended the order of protection to include Reston and promised that it would be strictly enforced going so far as to alert the police at William & Mary. He also assured Jill she could extend it with a call to his office.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>Once outside the courthouse the three embraced, with Chet and Angela promising to let Jill tell her husband what had happened in her own time. With that behind her, Jill couldn’t wait to tell Ray the good news.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>Ray was just a month into the grueling BUD/s training at Coronado and like everyone else does at some point began questioning the wisdom of his decision. It was physically and mentally exhausting, but he was determined to make it. He had made it through week 4, affectionately called “Hell Week” without becoming a “sugar cookie,” (having been made to get wet, roll in sand and massage it into his scalp as a form of punishment). “Getting wet” was a motivation technique used to elicit maximum effort. If the trainer sensed that his men weren’t trying hard enough he would make them get wet and start over again wet. Nobody has ever made it through BUD/S without getting wet and Ray was no exception.</strong></p>
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<p><strong> He made friends easily, the camaraderie was different here than in boot camp -- they were brothers here, teammates who one day may have to depend on one another to stay alive. They had made it through Hell Week, showing the right motivation to become a SEAL. The guys here were much different than at Great Lakes, focused and determined. As demanding as it was, Ray liked the rigorous physical activity, particularly hand to hand, or close quarter combat as they called it. He excelled at the Krav Maga fighting technique they were taught.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>Ray was also adept at the shooting range, with the MK 23 .45 caliber suppressed pistol as well as the standard issue M4A1 and AK-47, all required. He would get further scout-sniper training at the school in Indiana as part of his specialized training. In Indiana he would have a chance to master the M-25 sniper rifle used by the Teams.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>People who failed to maintain proficiency in any of the classes or the strenuous PT activities were assigned to the “goon squad,” something Ray was able to avoid. In addition to the classes there were motivational “hikes,” weekly 2-mile runs on the soft sand in fatigues and combat boots. There were also timed 2-mile swims with a partner who must stay within 6 feet at all times. Failure to do so, or taking too long, resulted in having a chit pulled and detention that inevitably meant getting wet at a most inconvenient time.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>And then there were the mind games. The instructors did their best to get people to quit. They would pick someone out during PT while doing heavy reps and start berating him, saying he wasn’t trying and the rest of the squad would have to start over because of him. Ray always stayed placid and unmoved when some of the others began to yell at the unfortunate guy. This worked too, many guys would quit -- it was difficult being cold, wet,and miserable all of the time. Ray understood that it was to weed out the non-hackers, the guys that would likely fold under pressure. It strengthened his resolve not to become “that guy.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>Hell Week had been the worst. The instructors were allowed to do anything they could think of to demoralize and break the prospective SEALs. Life during Hell Week was measured from meal to meal. It began on a Sunday night and ended on the next Friday afternoon. If you were lucky, you got maybe 5 hours sleep during the ordeal. It mostly consisted of rowing IBS (inflatable boat, small) into the pounding surf and back into what they call “rock portage” landing in huge boulders with 6-8 foot surf at their backs. Many were injured and had to quit training. If it wasn’t that it was treading water in the cold ocean water. If it rained or there was a storm, too bad -- the SEALs don’t take time off for bad weather. It seemed like an eternity to Ray, but it was finally over. It was off to Ft. Sam Houston for corpsman training.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>It had been 26 long weeks since Ray had seen his wife who was very pregnant by now. She would join him in Houston for his 15 weeks there before going on to Indiana. He had 7 days, scarcely enough time to pick her up and drive to his new duty station. Unlike before, all she could manage was a waddle to his waiting arms when she picked him up at Reagan International.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“You look beautiful,” he said, taking her into his arms.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“And fat,” she added. She was amazed at how solid he had become as she prodded his arms and chest. “My God, what did they feed you there?”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>He had changed, she noticed. The boyishness was gone, replaced with a new maturity. She decided that she liked it.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“I have some good news Baby,” Ray said putting his hand around her now copious back. “I’m in Team 3, SDVT- 2. I’ll be stationed in Little Creek when all this training is done.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“How was training?” Jill asked. “Is it as bad as everyone says?”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“It was pretty bad,” Ray replied, trying to sound nonchalant, “but the worst is over now. All that’s left is the technical stuff.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>Chet and Angela were amazed at what they saw when Ray walked through the door. Dennis looked admiringly at Ray’s trident on his uniform.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“I wish I had gone with you,” he said wistfully.</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“No you don’t buddy,” Ray told him with a grim smile. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”</strong></p>
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<p><strong>“That bad son?” His father inquired.</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>Ray told them about it, focusing on the mind games that the instructors used to make people quit. “As bad as it was, they did everything in their power to make it worse. There were times that I didn’t think I’d make it -- times when I just wanted to quit. Then I remembered what you always taught me Dad, if you want something bad enough never let anything stand in your way, you can do anything if you put your mind to it.”</strong></p>
<p><strong><br/></strong></p>
<p><strong>Chet was proud and pleased, Ray had left still a boy, but came back a man.</strong></p>
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