July 12, 2014
The sense of profound amazement and borderline disbelief simmered in Meghan's mind, head swimming in a constant haze. She could hardly remember what had come before the last several months of relentless training and short nights, and even now she fought the inner suspicion that there was a hidden test just waiting to get fired in her direction.
Fewer than 50,000 Americans had ever attended a SEAL graduation. It is no hyperbole to say that each successive graduation ceremony is a significant piece of history. For those in the audience today, that notion got cranked to eleven. To say that the US military "advertised" the graduation of its warriors would be terribly disingenuous. However, to say that they would pass up the chance to tell the world that, for the first time, a woman had passed the test of tests?
Now that would be downright wrong.
Meghan had been told that "a few news outlets" wanted a moment with her. Within days, major networks had lined up to get her picture and ask for quotes. They would get their time, but this moment was all about her, and her comrades. Cameras and microphones dotted the crowd, soaking up every word as the officers detailed what this group went through, how they were special among the most spectacular.
Their speeches projected the gravity of the situation perfectly – that the pinning of the tridents on the chests of the newest SEALs, while an extraordinary accomplishment, also sets the bar of impossibly high performance even higher. It turned out that Meghan had not reached the finish line, but rather earned a spot at the true starting line. She had the chance to become a team player on the world's biggest stage, to put all the training to the highest echelon of real-life combat.
It was true, and she knew it. Thinking that this was the mountaintop would be doing herself and those around her a disservice, and put her in line for one of many rude awakenings. Earning her trident meant many things, one of which being that she would need to earn the respect of the world's best soldiers. At this level, the difference between an "FNG" and a veteran SEAL was, in the words of Twain, that of "a lightning bug and a lightning strike."
Still, one thing at a time. Meghan had already become the one percent of the one percent, and this day was meant to be celebratory.
She and her peers looked crisp and pristine in their dress whites, with the four-person brass band setting the tone for just how momentous this occasion was. The graduation speech, while succinct, was the most accurate reflection on personal character she had ever heard. These recruits had shown the fortitude to stretch the limits of what was physically and mentally possible.
The voice of the retiring SEAL boomed over the plaza. "There is no splendid ceremony or fuss, but the education you are receiving is better than any Ivy League College or University can offer. Through the crucible of this training you will gain an inkling of self-awareness. You will learn to seek your own strengths and weaknesses; your boundaries and your fears."
Over the years, Meghan had experienced several iterations of the same question: What does it take to make a good SEAL?
The speaker must have read her mind. He took a moment to clear his throat, forehead creasing as he thought back to his own memories, "What does it mean to be a good SEAL? Is it the man who swims hundreds of miles and runs thousands? Is it impeccable standards? Spit and polish? One of my BUD/S instructors was a Vietnam veteran who said 'I did five tours of duty and I never saw an obstacle course, and I never had to run more than 50 yards in the jungle.' So it isn't just about being physically healthy and capable."
The speaker recalled a moment that stuck with him, in which he barked back at a superior officer after he was reprimanded for a uniform violation. Although he "only just barely escaped with his life," Meghan held back a smirk. She could certainly relate to that. Not every CO was as lenient as Samson.
"But that old warrant officer knew something back then that I didn't: the definition of discipline. I had allowed him to form an opinion of me: if I made the wrong decision when the choices are easy, what would I do when the choices are hard? You know the right action, and you take the right action: Only. Every. Time."
If anything, the points that the decorated man made were the cement that held it all together. The SEAL ethos, the months of classroom and field training, the lifestyle that was her new norm. Now, she started to get a better idea of what made the perfect soldier.
A good SEAL acknowledges that good fortune heavily impacts their futures, but that they can't outrun bad luck. A good SEAL seeks and accepts responsibility for their own actions, or lack thereof. A good SEAL is a leader who understands that leadership is not given, but honed through experience; that true leadership is revealed when one proves that they have what it takes, whatever that may be in any given situation. A good SEAL embraces the concept not of one leader and many followers, but of leaders leading leaders, and of being part of a team of creative thinkers bound by their tridents.
The man turned to look at the graduates, and Meghan felt his steely gaze fix on her, specifically. "You are not here to lead the hunt for the terrorist masterminds of the world, you are here to make sure this community continues. I envy you; I worry for you. In the meantime, there is work to be done. Congratulations."
He led the assembly in a lengthy round of applause, as the audience stood and cheered respectfully. Meghan allowed herself to look around at the crowd, there to see their sons, friends, husbands. She sighed, knowing that the only people there for her were CBS, CNN, Fox... rather than loving hugs, they were there to get a story out of Meghan. They could swear up and down that they were proud of her on behalf of the country or whatever such bullshit, but at the end of the day the narrative was what made them care. She stepped off the raised platform, resignation planting itself in her mind, until a couple with press guest passes at the center of the seating aisle caught her attention.
Her mother and father.
The world around her fell away, sound drowning out and forgotten. Her jaw hung open, until she shook her stupor and paced in their direction. McKenzie jogged to meet her halfway and threw her arms around Meghan's neck, squeezing as tightly as she could.
Her mother spoke through regular sniffles. "You did it, sweetie."
"I can't believe you came… When I sent the invites, I thought—" Meghan's voice came out as a broken whisper, as she was unable to keep her voice from cracking.
McKenzie drew away and gestured to Sean. "Are you kidding? We wouldn't miss this for the world!"
And there he stood, hands in his pockets. "Hi, Angel."
That was it, that was all it took for the dam to break. Tears slid down Meghan's cheeks. She nearly jumped at him, engulfing Sean in a crushing hug. "Hi, daddy."
"I'm so, so proud of you, Meghan." She tightened her fist, bunching his shirt between her fingers. Sean rubbed her back as she cried, screwing his eyes shut as he took in the fact that, for the first time in years, his little girl was in his arms.
Maybe not so little anymore…
They split apart, and Meghan rubbed at her eyes. "I'm… I just, I don't know what to say…"
McKenzie took her hand. "Oh baby, you don't have to say anything."
Meghan pulled in a shaky breath, smoothing out her uniform. "From the badges I'm guessing you'll be joining me in the media event?"
Sean nodded. "As soon as they heard we were here, they pretty much insisted. If it's alright with you, we'll be right there with you."
She grabbed both of her parents in one armed hugs.
"Let's go be stars."
It took all of three minutes under the blinding lights and camera shots for Meghan to decide that she never wanted to do this again. Already, she could feel the beads of sweat forming on her forehead, courtesy of the bulbs trained on her like the barrels of a thousand guns. Nonetheless, she and her parents clipped the microphones on, and waited for the barrage of questions.
"Barrage" was probably the most accurate description.
"McKenzie, what were you going through as you watched your daughter graduate one of the nation's toughest military programs?"
She straightened up. "I think anything less than 'elation' would be a lie. Meghan has been making both of us proud for years, even when she was thousands of miles away, on deployment. Maybe it's a little dramatic, but she gives me reason to do my best every day."
Another commotion roared to life as the reporters vied for attention, and the Navy moderator picked one.
"Sean, do you have any reservations about your daughter putting herself in a position as dangerous as this?"
Meghan watched as her father crossed one leg, hands moving animatedly as he spoke. "Not at all. She's proven to me more than once that she's the strongest woman on the planet, and that doubting her only serves to stoke an untamable fire. Does part of me wish that she could stop right now, go home, raise a family, get a safe job, take up stamp collecting? Sure, of course I'm worried for my little girl's safety. But, I also know that it would take an act of God to knock her down and keep her there."
Meghan felt her chest swell with thankfulness at the praise, and gave a contented sigh.
"Meghan, what drove you to not only join the SEAL program, but see the whole thing through, and what does it mean to you to be the first female to pass the program?"
"Well, like my dad mentioned, the notion that 'she can't do it' has always been the biggest thing. I was trying to be an Olympian as a teenager before I broke my arm, and I heard the doubt from my friends. I decided to join the military, and I heard the doubt from dad. I decided to join the SEALs, and I heard the doubt from everyone, even my boyfriend, who I still love very much despite it. In essence, I wanted to prove that I can do anything, and carve a path for the women behind me to smash the glass ceiling."
For a brief moment, the room was as calm as could be. Like many other times in which Meghan spoke with such conviction, the pack bowed their heads to her.
"So, why did it have to be a military career, particularly the SEALs? There's no doubt in my mind that you have passion, but couldn't you have set a similar precedent in a medical or research field?"
"If that were my calling, maybe, sure. But I love this job. I love being a part of this cohort, whether it be in a situation room or doing a HALO drop over deserts. I feel like my service makes a positive difference, and that it's good for me as a person."
She paused, looking at each of her parents. "See, my fears aren't the same as mom's and dad's. Sure, getting injured or killed in the line of duty would be terrible, but my biggest concern is having all of this training drilled into me before I can be deployed on my first mission, and make that positive difference. I understand the risks, and the danger, but if I could be sent to wherever I'm needed most tomorrow, I would."
She meant every word, and knew that soon enough, she could put those words into action.
"Can I open my eyes yet?"
Sean chuckled. "We'll let you know, Angel."
Meghan whined, hating being in the dark, even if this alleged "surprise" was as worth it as they kept assuring her. They'd given her the chance to swap her dress whites for something more comfortable, but insisted that she "make herself presentable."
The car ride had been odd, in a word, but she couldn't say it had been negative. She finally had the chance to air out the situation with her parents, and they'd been able to just talk. Meghan acknowledged that she had been a rebellious little shit, and Sean admitted that the stick that used to be up his ass had made him a sour little shit.
Meghan felt the car stop and accepted her mother's hand to get out. Her parents walked her down a path, and her ears picked up the sound of waves lapping at the shores. Her father pulled the blindfold away, and she gasped at the sight in front of her.
A row of people sat on a seaside patio, beneath a congratulatory banner surrounded by party accessories. Most of her high school team, led by Kyle Jackson, cocky smile on his face. Rebecca Winters, no longer standing with that idle fidget she used to possess. James Samson, with Angela Foster and Hector Garza flanking him. Mary Knowles and Andrew Peters looked her up and down, at the end product of their efforts. At the center, was her boyfriend of five years, David Harris.
Meghan found herself crying once again. This was her biggest achievement yet. This was her perfect scenario. This was her ultimate goal. McKenzie pushed her forward, and she embraced David before kissing him like they were the only ones in the world.
Just for today, she could say…
I made it
The speech from the retiring SEAL, and some of the surrounding flavor text, was inspired by an article I read on the SEAL graduation ceremony. Admittedly, I don't think I'm anywhere close to being able to write such a charismatic speech, so for the sake of writing a good story, I called in some fire support.
Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed, and let me know what you thought! Have a good one!