When a SEAL Master Chief talks, you listen*. This particular Master Chief was Will Guild. A salty Frogman-Philosopher I originally, and mistakenly, referred to as a “Hugger”. Let me set the scene a bit.
*(For those of you who don’t know, a Master Chief is the highest rank you can achieve as an enlisted sailor. It is widely accepted that they are the saltiest, most experienced people in the Navy. Even though they spend an inordinate amount of time telling people to get a haircut, every once in a while, you can catch one in between their 8th and 9th cups of coffee where they impart some life-changing wisdom.)
We find ourselves in sunny Coronado, CA at the infamous SEAL training compound. A mystical place where young men are transformed into warriors through a patented process of mixing cold water, sand, running, and pushups on a seemingly endless cycle of rinse, lather, repeat. Only Neptune himself knows when to turn off the cycle. It is the universal thread every Frogman has endured since 1943.
There is a notoriously high attrition rate and roughly 30% who walk in on day one, make it to become SEALs. As the role of special operations rapidly expanded in the 2000’s the demand for qualified SEALs increased dramatically. The training command leadership was under significant pressure to get more people through the doors. It was the age-old problem of how to make more of something without changing how to make that something. Initially, more emphasis was placed on preparing students by giving them additional time and expert instruction in physical training before they showed up. Additionally, psych testing was implemented to potentially weed out those who show a higher likelihood of quitting (I was never a fan as most of us SEALs are a little crazy anyway). Another effort included starting a mentorship program where a few selected SEALs were assigned to teach and mentor students throughout the training with an emphasis on topics such as character, resilience, mental toughness. Master Chief Will Guild was one of the SEALs assigned.
During that time, there was an undercurrent of “us vs them” between the instructors who saw themselves as gate keepers and the “higher ups” that wanted desperately to add more SEALs to the force. We (instructors) were fine with the extra measures to get students better prepared before they showed up but we were very opposed to any “meddling” with the training that, in our eyes, would make it easier. Anything we saw as a threat or any person that would go easy on the students, we affectionately named a “Hugger”. As in, you are hugging the students. If a fellow instructor called you a hugger, it was not meant as a compliment.
At the same time, fifteen of my teammates and I were assigned as instructors in First Phase. This is the initial foray into SEAL training, often represented by images of sad faces carrying boats and logs or of students lying in the cold Pacific waters. What most people don’t know is that sprinkled in-between the beatdowns, students sit in classes on values and leadership development throughout their training. These classes often involved an instructor telling stories about personal examples from the teams and facilitating a discussion. Some students were engaged and diligently took notes. Others played a very dangerous game of falling asleep. Woe unto him who fell asleep while an instructor lectured about personal values. Needless to say, classes often turned into an excuse for pushup sessions. That is, until Master Chief Will Guild showed up.
The new mentorship program was now in full swing, and it was the students’ turn to sit in on Will Guild’s class. Fearing that he would give out hugs and let the students sleep, I decided to join them in the classroom. Posting up in the back, I set an intense watch over my students. The students sat quietly, grateful not to be yelled at or carrying a 200lb log in the soft sand.
A class just starting training can have around 150 students in it. Even though you are an instructor, and they are students, standing in front of 150 people who are watching your every single move can intimidate even the saltiest of dudes. Conversely, we all recognize those people that can enter a room without a shield and without pretense. People who know who they are and are genuine in everything they do. That was Will when he walked in the door.
“Hey guys!” he said as if talking to a little league football team eating pizza after a game.
My weak and fear-based hold on the students vanished in an instant, easily disarmed by a smile as he walked to the white board and grabbed a marker.
“Let’s talk about the Stoics.”
Will jumped right into a “meaning of life” conversation with the students. A neatly choreographed symphony of warriors, philosophers, and leadership played out on the board in front of us. He talked about Aristotle, Socrates, Plato and how the Greek’s sought to find what living a good life was. He wrote words like ‘eudaimonia’, ‘character’, and ‘values’ on the board. He told us of Admiral Stockdale’s time in the Hanoi Hilton and how he leaned on the two-thousand-year-old wisdom of Epictetus to get through the toughest of circumstances.
I scrawled everything I could in my notebook. Long forgotten was the notion of this being a “hugger” session or a cheesy lesson on mental toughness.
The symphony of his presentation culminated in the final crescendo of the cap being popped on the marker and it clinking in the whiteboard tray. Master Chief Guild turned to the class and stood silently for a moment so we could all see the last word he wrote on the board.
arete
“Excellence, gents. This is what it is all about. How can you live an excellent life? Arete. Arete, is you living by an ethos, having character, being a man of virtue, and choosing to be your best self no matter what is going on around you.”
“This,” he said as he pointed to the word, “is what you should be striving for.”
“See you guys next week.”
The class instinctively stood on their feet and made their way out of the door. Undoubtedly, their minds were already focused on the next challenge ahead. All of them better off than they were before, myself included.
I made it a point to go to every class I could from that point on.
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A few years later, I was given the opportunity to teach at the US Naval Academy. Naturally, I reached out to Will for guidance. As any good Frogman, he told of all the best watering holes, restaurants, and places to see. As a mentor he reminded me of what was important: (In his words)
“You'll be more of a life coach and mentor in your new role than you were as an instructor. Also, though your SEAL experience and persona are important, let the midshipmen see Kevin the leader and coach, as well. They'll follow you without hesitation, most of them. Humility and strength go a long way at the Academy.”
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Today, my friend Will Guild is in a fight. Last month, he suffered a seizure and was subsequently diagnosed with stage IV brain cancer and a hemorrhagic stroke. His wife, seven-year-old son, family, and teammates are by his side. He has a hard road ahead, but I know that if any can face this circumstance with arete, it is Will.
You see, Will is free. Nothing, not even cancer, seizures, or a stroke can take away his ability to choose virtue over circumstance. Will is a warrior and his brothers stand with him.
If you would like to join the fight, please consider donating to Will and his family here:
Powerful.