I hate water

"Is our star recruit scared?" Jarvis noticed the slight discomfort in Neville, his voice dripping with mockery.

"So much water!" Neville murmured in dread.

"What? You were fine before," Jarvis began citing the crawl on the trench, but Neville cut him off abruptly.

"Quantity and direction of the water flow are completely different," Neville said, regaining his stoicism.

"It'll be fine," Jarvis assured him, though his voice wavered, betraying his own uncertainty.

"Now sit down, lock arms, and wait. You better lock those arms and you better not lose a single person," Bee commanded through the megaphone, her voice barely audible over the roaring waves. The moment the incoming wave was near, the recruits heard Bear's thunderous shout, "Lay down!"

The water crashed over them, submerging the recruits with such ferocity that it washed them back a little. Water forced its way into their noses, and Neville struggled to breathe. The water was a bone-chilling 59 degrees Fahrenheit (about 15 degrees Celsius), making him gasp and as a result, swallow some water. The cold water penetrating his nose made him break Neville's interlock with Jarvis. The instructors remained indifferent, ordering them to stand up, lock arms again, sit down, and wait for the next wave. They repeated this grueling routine eight more times, and each time, Neville despised the feeling of being submerged more and more.

"Number 22, why do you keep unlocking?" Bear's voice cut through the chaos, quick to berate Neville.

By now, the waves grew stronger, their bodies colder, making them weak and causing the locks to break at various points, not just at Neville's. They were ordered to move deeper into the shore with each try, advancing by one meter every time. The instructors eventually called them back to the dry sand, where they stood, visibly shivering. Some instructors approached the affected recruits, including Neville, attempting to dissuade them and push them to quit. Number 37 was coughing when Bear approached him.

"I love your heart, but do you wanna quit?" Bear's eyes bore into 37, who kept shaking his head, but Bear persisted. "It's going to get tougher. I'm going to push you further and deeper into the water. So you better quit now."

"No, instructor. I'll freeze," 37 declared, mustering up every ounce of strength and courage.

Bear's gaze lingered on him one final time before ordering the group to remove their shirts. Number 16, the previous leader, had tears streaming down his cheeks from the biting cold.

"Hey, suck it up or quit," Bear said sharply.

After removing their shirts, they were told to face the ocean again, still interlocking arms.

"Forward march!" they were commanded. But one remained behind, a lanky kid with a brown bobbed haircut.

"What are you doing right now?"

"I can't move my body."

"So what?"

"I'm quitting," the kid said, shivering and sniffling, his eyes red and teary.

"Where's your patch?" he was asked. The kid looked around his combat pants but couldn't find it.

"Get your patch and hand it to Bee, then wait; you'll be taken away soon," Bear instructed.

The kid, Number 2, looked at the recruits marching back to the sea, his eyes teary, clearly not wanting to quit but realizing he couldn't continue any further. Shirtless, they repeated the drill a few more times.

**********************

They were back on shore again, now equipped in shorts and diving goggles, listening to Bee, who was pointing to an object in the distance. "You see that buoy out there? It's about 190 meters from the shore."

"Yes, instructor," they replied in unison, but Neville felt a deep, unsettling premonition.

"You are going to swim around it counterclockwise," Bee announced. He wanted them to go against the waves while swimming. Jarvis glanced at Neville with a smirk, knowing today would be a terrible day for him.

"There are sharks out there, so raise your hands and wave them when you are about to die. Not when you have a leg cramp or your back hurts—only when you are going to die or when a shark bites off your leg. Am I clear?" Bee made a waving gesture for emphasis.

"Yes, instructor," they echoed, their voices tinged with fear.

"Only come back to shore when you want to quit. Now, move to the water and remember, stay six feet from your swimming buddy," Bee commanded.

Barely five minutes later, 37 and the new class rep, 23, swam back to shore. Bear stood in front of them, his presence imposing.

"What is it?" he demanded.

23, who was 37's swim buddy, just gestured at 37 and excused herself, stepping aside to let them talk.

"You wanna quit? What's the problem?" Bear's voice was stern.

"It's the goggles, instructor. I can't breathe in them," 37 admitted, his voice trembling.

"So? Do you wanna quit? If you can't breathe through the goggles, put them on your neck and swim," Bear said dismissively, receiving only silence in return. He asked again, "Do you wanna quit? Will you swim or not?"

"I'll swim, sir," 37 responded, mustering what little courage he had left.

"Then go, go. There's the buoy," Bear urged. 23 tugged at 37, eager to get back into the water.

"There's the buoy. What are you waiting for, 37?" Bear's voice boomed, and slowly, 37 mustered the strength to head back into the sea.

Meanwhile, Jarvis was taunting Neville. "Hurry up, we are falling behind."

"I can't see!" Neville grumbled, swallowing water in the process, which made Jarvis laugh even louder.

"I wonder what will break first—your spirit or your body," Jarvis said, moving ahead slightly but maintaining the six-foot distance.

But at this point, 37 returned back to shore, and Bear smirked. "He's done," he said with a hint of satisfaction. With shame and tears streaming down his face, 37 walked back.

"I asked you if you could swim, and you said yes. So what are you gonna do now?" Bear's voice was relentless.

"I will qui—" before finishing his sentence, Bear interjected.

"You'll quit?" he asked, making 37 nod reluctantly.

"You have a ton of heart. You really do, but this program requires a well-rounded person—it really does. You are small, cold, and weak. All that, unfortunately, will hinder you from getting into the program. It doesn't determine a possibility in the future, but today is a no. Understand?" Bear's words cut deep.

37 walked with shame to hand over his patch. He wasn't alone; some others had also quit, but those who completed the task were back on the beach, not idle—they were made to do pushups under the lead of 23. It was 11:15, and they were ordered to line up and drink water from their bottles.

"Permission to speak, instructor!" one recruit called out.

"Speak," said Bear.

"Permission to go to the medic, sir. My toenail is gone," said Number 20, prompting others to look at his toe while some recoiled in horror. Neville was just baffled about what caused it.