The Warrior Elite by Dick Couch

With a postscript describing SEAL efforts in Afghanistan, The Warrior Elite takes you into the toughest, longest, and most relentless military training in the world.

What does it take to become a Navy SEAL? What makes talented, intelligent young men volunteer for physical punishment, cold water, and days without sleep? In
The Warrior Elite, former Navy SEAL Dick Couch documents the process that transforms young men into warriors. SEAL training is the distillation of the human spirit, a tradition-bound ordeal that seeks to find men with character, courage, and the burning desire to win at all costs, men who would rather die than quit.

Why I Picked It Up

Thanks for reading Words Like Silver! Subscribe for free to support my work.

Subscribe Now

placeholder

I'm a rabbit hole reader, meaning I'll find one topic then pick up twenty similar books next exploring a similar theme. Lately, that's looked like fatigue, endurance, and the single-minded pursuit of a goal. Those themes have been obvious markers of my last few years, and I find that the intensity and extremes of willpower required occasionally make it difficult for me to relate to others.

But—this is key—my pursuit is not life-or-death. It's subjective. So it occasionally comforts me when I'm tired to consume media about people who have harder jobs than my own, which is the logic underlying why I sometimes play Grey's Anatomy in the background to keep me awake when in the thick of an all-nighter. (My WiFi network is called Shondaland.) In the wake of my own thoughts about "what it takes" to do your "life's work," I read SEAL Team Six in the fall.

Recently, I read The Finishing School by Dick Couch just to indulge a personal curiosity about timelines. In doing so, I discovered I absolutely loved Couch's balance and style. So when I was looking for a book about enduring long past your limit, well: I knew his volume about BUD/S could scratch that particular emotional itch.

What It's About

Okay so: if you're unfamiliar, the Navy SEALs start their training pipeline with a selection process called BUD/S. (I'm probably butchering the explanation, but I can assure you that Couch does a better job than I can.)

BUD/S is the first step to getting the Trident and officially becoming a SEAL, and it's difficult to even get sent to BUD/S in the first place. At the time this was written (I have no idea what the modern equivalent is), there were five classes a year with roughly 100 men apiece in each; most who start the process would not make it to the end.

For this narrative, Couch follows one specific class all the way from Indoc (the initiation period) through each of the three phases of BUD/S. The class loses recruits at each phase. Some can't do it, some fail skills or physical tests, and others had bad luck medically or in personal circumstances; the class grows and shrinks based on who's "rolled back" between phases i.e. men who made it through with one class but needed healing time because they broke legs or ribs or had fluid in their lungs, etc,. etc,. before moving on. It's a fascinating structure.

The People He Talks About

Since I read this after reading The Finishing School (which was published later), Couch points out that he was allowed to take more liberties within his first book, the The Warrior Elite i.e. sharing photos, names, and processes; nowadays, the military is much more careful about privacy, safety, and confidentiality for each man as the training gets more involved and specific—which makes total sense.

Still, part of the reason I loved and preferred The Warrior Elite was because of the humanity depicted. Those details would have been memorable even without the individual ties—because Couch did an incredible job showing principle, personality, and even humor—but the book was unforgettable because of its profiles too.

I loved how vivid Couch made each personality he highlighted during BUD/S. He could zoom out to focus on the class overall, but did an incredible job tackling the nuances of each man: their considerations, struggles, strategies, philosophies, whys. How each contributed to the overall chemistry of the class. It was an extremely human book, which shows rather than tells the impact of the process—physically, emotionally, spiritually. I was awestruck by the men's stories and his skill in depicting them.

And then the narrative arc is, of course, thrilling. You found yourself rooting for some guys, surprised by others who dropped, convinced you knew who would make it and who wouldn't. When discussing the men who didn't graduate, I especially appreciated how excellent Couch was at drawing the line between those who pushed themselves as far as they could go past their personal limits versus who couldn't handle the pain or difficulty. You got a feel for who "earned" the dignity of BUD/S even if they didn't end up finishing. It's a strangely beautiful commentary on what you're made for and what you can endure, and he walks that line without diminishing how those who actually finished BUD/S were in a class of their own and achieved what the others only dreamed of. He seems to weigh the role of intention, action, and luck in a way that appropriately layers credit properly in triplicate: spotlighting those who succeeded and earned, those who failed but earned, and those who just quit.

And the quitting came in layers too: some quit for pain, exhaustion, lack of willpower or self-mastery. They were underprepared, or didn't want it as badly as they thought. They didn't look ahead enough, or they looked
too far ahead and psyched themselves out. It was also contagious, as people tended to DOR in small groups, so who had the individual control not to be affected? So seeing who stuck through it, and who even thrived on an almost spiritual level off the challenges (even when absolutely physically and mentally demolished) was powerful.

It was very much about identity in the end, and the only people still standing at the end were those who aligned in all ways: body, mind, soul, etc,. That sounds incredibly banal, but Couch made it clear by showing, not telling—so this "distillation" was evident. Maybe some were made to do this, but it also shows that they had to make themselves reach that standard—which. Ugh. That carries so much weight for me. It's my favorite quality to read, see, understand, feel, aim for, etc,.

Voice & Style

First, as a writer, I also want to commend Couch for handling such a large cast; he picks out the perfect details to differentiate individuals, so the names didn't blur together—which is so hard to do well.

This book was incredibly well-organized. In any military organization, it can be so tricky for an outsider to keep the terminology and abbreviations straight, but Couch lays it out so efficiently. He knows when to be clear, and when to emphasize the drama or romance of the process.

One aspect I pointed out about Seal Team Six was that the dialogue and action felt almost staged and unnatural (which I felt totally guilty about saying.) But this book makes clear the difference; monologues, snippets, and depictions flow effortlessly, so you really do feel like you're getting a front-row seat to each event, cause, and effect. It's immersive without feeling inauthentic (by default) in its cinema. Major props.

More importantly, Couch knows when to lean into the small details. The vivid "human details" that define my favorite books; it's all sensory, which adds to the tactile essence and impact of the book—which can of course barely scrape the surface of the sense and physicality of the process itself. Writing that way is a skill: the ability of a writer to make the book itself feel like an experience at least in some way evoking what it's meant to depict. That quality is what gives The Warrior Elite the gravity it deserves, and likely what makes it "effective." As an outsider, the precision is impressive.

Lines & Moments That Struck Me

Oh, I highlighted so much. Some because that's how I learn on an information-level, and I can't entirely quell the part of me that wants this knowledge to be tangibly useful. Some is great practical knowledge—which is why you'll always see articles with 'rules for life according to a SEAL' or 'the nutrition of a SEAL' and similar. They make fantastic sources!

Some because the lines or moments were striking. One of the eight core events that provokes awe—a cornerstone of what "defines" a Words Like Silver book, and what impacts me most—is acts of strength, courage, and kindness, and this process is of course full of them.

“'What we expect,' he told us, 'is all you have to give.'”

“Along the way, the brown shirts take every opportunity to slip them a candy bar or a wedge of orange.”

There are some lines that felt horribly resonant to me throughout my book process (not in terms of difficulty or strength, of course—but in terms of the feeling.) So I underlined some for being strangely relatable too.

“We never let ourselves believe it was over. Not completely.”

“Often, there is a fine line between preparation and bravery.”

“'Most of you simply don't want it that bad. We'll see.'”

“'First of all, don’t give in to the pressure of the moment. If you’re hurting bad, which will happen often, and you don’t think you can go any further, just hang on. Finish the evolution; finish the day. Think about what you really want; make your decision then—after the evolution or at the end of the day. Secondly, take it one day, one evolution, at a time. Don’t mentally DOR because you’re looking ahead to all the pain and suffering in the days and weeks ahead. Just focus on getting through the day.'”

“Those who have a clear goal of where they're going, and know why they're going there, are less likely to surrender mentally to the physical pain.”

I thought about this idea of contrast I'm obsessed with (a feature of many of my favorite books), my personal adoration for Cultish things (a great book by Amanda Montell, not a descriptor), the inability to quit, the satisfaction of one's individual strength, what humanity means when everything else is at its worst, etc,.

“To survive Hell Week, a trainee has to do two things: take the punishment being dished out, and get past thinking about the punishment to come. Often, the latter will break a man quicker than the former.”

“'We always give them a minute to think about it, and a chance to go back,' he tells me. 'But they're given this second chance only once.'”

And some particular lines or cadences I liked (not to be cliché, but totally to be cliché!)

“If it's a close personal debate between right and wrong, it's probaby wrong...you will often be challenged by the hard right and the easy wrong.”

“Perfection is impossible, but striving for perfection is not.”

[My CMS just deleted a paragraph stuffed with details I absolutely loved, because the details made my experience of the book, and I'm not going to be able to rewrite it nearly as well. So bear with me. Also, I'm not excerpting nearly as many highlights as I'd love to.]

But: you really got a feel for how individual pride, reputation, and methods of survival were formed, as well as for how the bonds of the class bubbled up to stitch it all together. The details of each moment made the book.

From those who chose not to rest during the sleep period because it meant they weren't going to be able to get into the water again; doubling-down; hiding that they were throwing up blood or had fluid in their lungs again; classmates helping others into the surf with knees so swollen they couldn't walk (but could swim); alternating napping in the boats; the logs; the weight; rolling in the sand; getting hypothermic, warming in the clinic, and jumping in the truck to go right on back to surf torture; the glimmers of joy and satisfaction in the mud games; someone only giving up because their wrecked shoulder would punish their team down in the relay, and ending their SEALs dream with honor; the candy bars and oranges; blisters, fluid in the lungs, testing again and again, rollbacks, shivers, the delirium of sleep after.

And it was all those specific, fleshed-out, individual details that made Couch's depiction feel so hard-hitting, because he didn't just focus on the process or the strengths. It didn't feel like he just slammed BUD/S on a pedestal but rather that he investigated every aspect of the class and their process with a certain generosity of attention.

Even instructors' pushes felt impactful and caring—because the best thing they could do for any of these men would be to hold them to the highest, strictest possible standard (and I did laugh that they turned a blind eye to cheating when it meant they were working together.) The best people for you are the ones that forge you, etc,. It's so actions over words (which is ironically what I appreciate most) and articulated so much about what really matters to people, how they make a difference, and which lines define them.

Anyway, I've also been thinking specifically (narrative-wise) about earned beauty, our capacity for control, and the hero's journey. The necessity of suffering, the externalization of the internal, what it means to actually exercise your beliefs and be active within your own life, the benchmark, "training is never over," the fundamental difference between signing up for something for a result vs. a constant commitment to the process, etc,.

I also got a new appreciation for the sheer amount of knowledge and mastery provoked in every aspect of the training; Couch did a fantastic job conveying how much there is to consume within any given role—paying tribute to this idea of "nuance as novelty." You could dive into all of this for forever and never learn enough to satisfy you, so it's undoubtedly extremely fulfilling on so many intellectual levels too.

He also emphasizes personal responsibility, a pattern of finishing what someone starts, the need to belong with like-minded people, and other more undercurrent aspects that affect the process (and who makes it through.) I also appreciated his nuanced discussion of why the character portion aspect matters, and what considerations go into upholding rules of engagement; for example, he described how some of these calculations alleviate the dissonance covered in more depth within What Have We Done, which talks about the complicated moral layers and emotional splinters some might experience within combat, especially when they boil down to singular decisions and contradictory orders.

There's a lot to love about the amount of detail in this one.

Overall Thoughts

For a book like this, I was expecting to like it just because of a previous secondhand connection to the subject matter (so I'd already been primed to see the poetry in the process.) But this is why it's great to pick up books that you wouldn't expect to align with your taste, no matter what sparks the initial curiosity! Because I absolutely loved it so much as an independent work—not only as some emotional relic.

Dick Couch as a writer has a style that vibes extremely well with my nonfiction preferences in history and microhistory: voicey, colorful, passionate, clear, detailed. If you can make me passionate about a topic I know little about? That's my favorite kind of nonfiction—form following function. The writing itself is a microcosm embodying the highs and lows of an experience like this, even though I could of course never understand as an outsider.

You really feel like you're getting an intimate, involved look at a niche—and more importantly, why it matters to those who shape their lives around it. What it symbolizes too.

I would normally, affectionately call a book like this a "Dad book," and it is. But there's also so much to appreciate and extract about endurance, purpose, dignity, limitation vs. control, bonding, ritual, success vs. failure (and not in a corny way.) What doesn't kill you. The narrative itself is rich without being overwhelming, and answers so many questions—while also sparking a thousand more. Overall phenomenal, and I'm not just saying that as someone who went on a tangent.

PS. I also love that the word used in the description was specifically "distillation" because that's something I've been thinking about nonstop lately—before ever seeing this.