How much insurance cover we need?

After we saw how to set and track our financial goals, it is important to know whether we are sufficiently covered for life.

There are many methods available to calculate the insurance cover like as simple as multiply the yearly expense by 10 to more complicated one  like real life value. I have learned a more practical approach where the insurance value (I.V) is calculated  based on three factors

1. Real Expense
2. Goals and
3. Liability

Let us take an example:

Personal Profile:

	Name	Age	Income
Self	Arun	30	10,00,000
Spouse	Lavanya	27	-
Kid	Ajay	1	-

Financial Profile:

Annual Expense		7,50,000
Savings		5,00,000
Liablity	Home Loan	25,00,000
Goals	Ajay Education	10,00,000
	Ajay Marriage	6,00,000

Real Expense Calculation:
For every insurance calculation we need to calculate the actual annual expense. Arun has mentioned that he is spending R.s. 7,50,000 annually. In that he is investing around Rs.1,00,000 and paying EMI of Rs.3,00,000 so we need to subtract these values from his annual expense

7,50,000 - 4,00,000 = 3,50,000

assuming that his expense alone out of this total expense is 10%

350000 - 35000 = 3,15,000

Rs.3,15,000 is required by the family every year to meet the personal expense should something happen to Arun.

Expense Corpus calculation to generate Rs.3,15,000 annually  :
Expected Inflation: 6%
Expected Returns: 9% (Should be safe enough in absence of bread winner)

Effective Returns: 9-6 =  4%

Tax Slab : 20%
Pre Tax Annual Requirement : Rs. 3,93,750

Expense Corpus Required = 393750 * 100/4(Effective Return) = Rs. 98,43,750


Life Insurance Calculation:
I.V = Expense Corpus + Goal Value (Today's Value) + Liablity - Net Worth
I.V = 98,43,750 + 16,00,000 +25,00,000 - 5,00,000 = Rs. 1,34,43,750


Which Insurance to Choose?
There are many types of insurance policy available in the market like plain vanilla Term plan, Monthly income plan, Endowment plan and ULIP. As you might know that for the coverage of around 1.3 crores Arun cant afford premium in any of the plan except the term insurance.

The important thing to note is insurance is not investment, it helps your family in case of any eventuality so you should not fall into prey of getting returns from the insurance premium you pay.

I have taken an example to show you how much premium Arun will need to pay in case if he choose a term insurance.

Plan : Aviva i-Life
S.A : 1.3 Crores
Age : 30
Policy Term: 35
Non Smoker

Premium : R.s 10,612 Annually

Some thoughts:

I feel that this method gives me more accurate value of my insurance requirement. However there are some variable components involved in this calculation like

• Expense which may go up or down ( Not based on inflation which we already factored in, but based on the need like kids expense may go up considerably once he joins the school etc). 
• Goal: It may go up once you have another kid or when you have more goals

so it is very much important to do the calculation once in 2 years at-least and  add/reduce your insurance coverage accordingly. To start with I suggest taking 3 term insurance plan for Expense,Goal and Liability respectively and once the goal is achieved are you have no liability stop the insurance of those two. 

Summary:

• Always take term insurance (Online preferable).
• Review the requirements once in 2 years and add/remove covers.
• Never lie while filling the insurance application. In case if you missed or lied anything call them and correct the mistake now itself. Even if they cancel the policy, it is ok rather than living in false belief that your dependents will get the S.A in future. 
• Fill the application by yourself.
• Never let the insurance agent talk.

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Goal-Plan-Action for Finance planning

This is the follow-up post for my previous post "The importance of goal setting in financial planning". I will take the  theme of my previous post and discuss how to achieve it using some of the tools available.

Goal->Plan->Action

Goal Setting:

Let us take an illustrative example of one Mr.T.R aged 28 want to save money for his kids education. His kid Simbu is now 2 years old. He needs to address these following things to come up with the goal

• Name of the Goal  :  Simbu's Education Fund
• How much money he need now:  10,00,000 (He should answer how of much money he needs now if Simbu is joining college today)
• Years till Simbu joins college: 16 years

Plan:

Now Mr.T.R clearly defined all the key parameters of the goal, we need to plan how much money is needed after 16 years.  If we assume that the education expense grow 8% every year,

this calculator clearly shows that Mr.T.R needs Rs.34,259,42 after 16 years to meet the education expense of Mr.Simbu.

(Calculator used: Future Value Calculator)

Now we need to calculate how much money Mr.T.R needs to invest every month for the next 16 years to reach his goal.

I use the "How much should I Save to Reach My Goal? calculator from yahoo finance" assuming 12% returns from the investment which is modest. 

this calculator shows me that Mr.T.R needs to invest Rs.71547 annually (Rs.5962 monthly) to achieve his goal. If he has any savings currently he can also put that in current savings balance.

If we cant invest 71547 now, we can opt for a lesser amount now and increase the investment every year, you can play around with the field annual increase on recommended savings to determine such value.

Action:

Next thing Mr.T.R needs to do is to pickup a 5 star rated equity mutual funds from www.valueresearch.com and start investing Rs.6000 through SIP (Systematic investment plan) for the next 16 years. Mr.T.R should not worry about ups and downs in the market and keep investing in equity. The only advice is that he should review the plan once in every year and switch to other plan if it under performs the category average.

To track the growth I created a spread sheet which looks like this (The funds mentioned are just for illustration and not for recommendation)

Similarly Mr.T.R needs to set goals for Simbu's marriage, Kural's education etc. We will talk about retirement planning sometime later.


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Importance of Goal setting in financial planning

When we talk about personal finance planning, we need to understand the clear difference between the terms "Savings" and "Investment". Even though these two terms are used interchangeably in financial discussions there are certain difference with which we can distinguish these two.

When you say "I am Investing" it means that you are expecting the capital to grow and you are taking a risk but when you say that "I am Saving" it means that you are more conservative and you are looking for your capital protection.  

So what should we do? Save or Invest? What I say is forget about these jargon's and get yourself into reality. It gives us a false prestige when we say that we are investing in stocks rather than PPF, it gives you a geeky image. 

Even if we don't understand the risks, even if we don't understand the stock market we will put our money into it and expect a 200% returns in a year. When we question their motive the simple answer is I want to be rich. Well everyone's ambition is to be rich but how rich is rich? XYZ invest in stocks and wants to be rich so as Warren Buffet invest in stocks and wants to be rich. The only difference is Warren Buffet has goals.

Is Finanical Goal important, yes definitely.

Goal->Plan->Action-> Excitement->Achievement ->Satisfaction

Without goal we are clueless, goal will lead us to plan for it. Some one might keep investing in some assets without any goal and become super rich but i don't travel that way. I need a goal to get motivated to get excited. Otherwise it is like watching Sachin playing in Australia without 100th century in mind. That milestone motivates Sachin, excites him and when he achieve it gives enormous satisfaction.

Investing is not about putting your money continuously in some asset and watch it grow, it is all about booking profit at right time and reaping the benefits. To achieve it you should know when to stop, to know when to stop you need to set goal.

You can set a goal by answering these questions

• Why do you want to save money?
• How much money you need?
• When you need that money?

Some of the goals you can set are

• Children's education - Need 10,000,00 in 2021
• Marriage of your Son/Daughter  - Need 15,000,00 in 2030
• Retirement planning
• Down payment for buying house
• Down payment for buying car
• Foreign trip

Next post we will see how should we plan and track for achieving the goal.

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Microsoft Future Vision

In 5 -10 years, how will people get things done at work, at home and on the go? watch the concept video to get a glimpse of the future of productivity.


Watch the concept video to get a glimpse of the future of productivity.

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SEAL Target Geronimo - A book by former Navy SEALS on Killing of Bin Laden

On May 2, 2011, at 1:03 a.m. in Pakistan, a satellite uplink was sent from the town of Abbottabad crackling into the situation room of the White House in Washington, D.C.: “Geronimo, Echo, KIA.” These words, spoken by a Navy SEAL, put paid to Osama bin Laden’s three-decade-long career of terror.

For ten years following 9/11, Bin Laden was the object of the most intense manhunt in modern history. This reclusive Saudi millionaire bankrolled a handpicked gang of jihadists who were determined to replace the governments of the world with a centralized Islamic regime. He ruled over a multifaceted empire of terror whose fanatics truck-bombed, hijacked, and murdered a bloody swath across four continents, killing men, women, and children. Three U.S. presidents vowed to bring him to justice.

Intelligence organizations from a dozen nations sent agents after him. Finally, Osama bin Laden, the man who would have remade the world, was brought to bay—shot down as he cowered behind one of his own family members—by special warfare operators from the U.S. Navy’s ultra-secret SEAL Team Six.

SEAL Target Geronimo is the story of Bin Laden’s relentless hunters and how they took down the terrorist mastermind, told by Chuck Pfarrer, a former assault element commander of SEAL Team Six and author of the bestselling Warrior Soul: The Memoir of a Navy SEAL. After talking to members of the SEAL team involved in the raid, Pfarrer shares never-before-revealed details of the historic raid and the men who planned and conducted it in an exclusive boots-on-the-ground account of what happened during each minute of the mission— both inside the building and outside.

Pfarrer takes readers inside the operation as the SEALs flew over the wall of Bin Laden’s shabby, litter-strewn compound and then penetrated deeper and deeper into the terrorist’s lair, telling us just what it looked, sounded, and smelled like in that sweltering Pakistani suburb. He takes us out to the courtyard to witness the near-disaster of the malfunctioning helicopter and brings us to the exact spot where the al-Qaeda leader was cowering when the bullet entered his head. SEAL Target Geronimo is an explosive story of unparalleled valor, clockwork military precision, and deadly accuracy carried out by the most elite fighting force in the world—the U.S. Navy’s SEAL Team Six.

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AGS சினிமாசின் அட்டகாசம்

வர வர நம்ம திரை அரங்குகளோட அட்டகாசத்துக்கு அளவே இல்லாம போய்டுச்சு. அதுவும் இந்த AGS சினிமாஸ் எல்லை மீறி போய்ட்டு இருக்கனுங்க. முன்னை எல்லாம் எங்க ஊர்ல சினிமா பாக்க போனா,  எங்க அம்மா முறுக்கு, எள்ளடை எல்லாம் தயாரா எடுத்துட்டு வருவாங்க. இப்போ தண்ணி கூட எடுத்துட்டு போக முடியாது.

என்னதான் மொக்கை படமா இருந்தாலும் காண்டீன், பார்கிங் வச்சு கல்லா கட்றது தான் இவனுகளோட ஒரே நோக்கம். சமோசா 60 ரூபாய், எங்க ஆபீஸ்ல யாருமே அண்டாத வெண்டிங் மெசின் காபி 50 ரூபாய், சரி தண்ணியாவது வாங்கி குடிக்கலாம்னு பாத்தா  வெளிய 12 ரூபாய்க்கு கிடைக்கற அதே தண்ணி இங்க 18 ரூபாய். எங்க ஊரு தியேட்டர்ல ஒரு ஆண்டால தண்ணி வச்சு, ஒரு டம்ளர கட்டி தொங்க விட்டிருபனுங்க இங்க அதுவும் கிடையாது.

இந்த தீபாவளிக்கு படத்துக்கு போகலாம்னு பாத்தா தலைல இடிய போட்டனுங்க, ஒரு டிக்கெட் 250 ரூபாய். சாப்பாடோட தரானுன்கலாம். சாப்பாடு நான் கேடேனா? "STD code நான் கேடேனா?"

  

130 ரூபாய்க்கு அப்படி என்ன தான் சாப்பாடு தரீங்க?  தலபாகட்டி சிக்கன் பிர்யானியா?

சரி இந்த வாரத்துல எதாவது டிக்கெட் இருக்கானு பாத்தா, தீபாவளிக்கு முண்ணாடி எல்லா படத்துக்கும் டிக்கெட் விலை 120 தான் 

  

ஏன்டா இப்படி? படுத்தரனுன்களே..  தீபாவளிய வச்சு ஆட்டைய போடறதுன்னு முடிவு பண்ணிடீங்க, நடத்துங்கடா. இந்த சூனா பானாவுக்கு திருட்டு DVD இருக்கு அத வச்சு அவன் சமாளிச்சுபான்.

பி .கு: வேலாயுதத்துக்கு 250 ரொம்ப ஓவர் மச்சி, எதாவது பாத்து பண்ணுங்க. அவன் அவன் விஜய் படத்துக்கு டிக்கெட் கூட அனாசின் மாத்திரை, கட்டிங், LIC இன்சூரன்ஸ், எலி மருந்துன்னு கூவி கூவி வித்துட்டு இருக்கனுங்க, இவனுங்க 250  ரூபாயாம் !!!

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இரண்டு கோரங்கள்

மும்பை குண்டு வெடிப்பு:

மீண்டும் ஒரு முறை நேற்று மும்பாயில் குண்டு வெடிப்பு. 20 பேர் மரணம் அடைந்ததாகவும், 100 பேர் காயம் அடைந்ததாகவும் கூறபடுகிறது. இதை தொடர்ந்து நடக்க போகும் நிகழ்வுகளை உங்களால் யூகிக்க முடியுமா என்ற குழப்பம் இருந்தால் இந்த கேள்விக்கு பதில் அளியுங்கள்.

சன் தொலைகாட்சியில் வரும் நெடும் தொடரை காண்பவர நீங்கள்?

ஒரு மாதம் தொடர்ந்து தொடரை பார்க்காமல், மறு வாரம் ஒரே எபிசொட் பார்த்துவிட்டு மொத்த கதையையும் உங்களால் புரிந்து கொள்ள முடிகிறதா ?

இந்த கேள்விகளுக்கு ஆம் என்றால் கண்டிப்பாக இன்னும் ஒரு வாரத்தில் என்ன நடக்கும் என்பதையும் உங்களால் யூகிக்க முடியும்.

1.  ATS, NSG, Commando, Black Guard, Itch Guard எல்லாம் தயார் நிலையில் உள்ளது என்று சிதம்பரம் அய்யா கூறுவார்.
2. சச்சின் டெண்டுல்கர் நுறாவது சதம் அடிக்கும் வரை, அண்ணா ஹசாரே உண்ணாவிரதம் இருக்கும் வரை, பூனம் பண்டே தனது சபதத்தை நிறைவேற்றும் வரை ; தனக்கு மாரடைப்பு ஏற்படும் வரை அல்லது நமக்கு பைத்தியம் பிடிக்கும் வரை தெய்வத் திருமகன் அர்னாப் கோஸ்வாமி சொற்பொழிவு தினமும் நடக்கும்.
3. குண்டு வெடித்த செய்தி அறிந்த கசாப் அதை சிறையில் எப்படி கொண்டாடினர் என்ற புலனாய்வு கட்டுரை வெளி வரும்.
4. குண்டு வெடிப்புக்கு காரணமானவர்கள் பாகிஸ்தான் தீவிரவாதிகள் என்று கண்டறிய படும். பாகிஸ்தான் அதை மறுக்கும். 
5. இந்தியா மீண்டும் முக்கிய குற்றவாளிகள் பட்டியல் தயாரித்து அனுப்பும். அதில் நம்ம வல்லரசு படத்தில் நடித்த வாசிம் கான் பெயரையும் தப்பாக இணைத்து குட்டு வாங்கும். 

கோவை கொலை:

குடி போதையில் ஏற்பட்ட தகராறால் கோபம் அடைந்த ஒரு நாதேறி, அவனுடைய நண்பர்கள் உடன் சென்று பட்ட பகலில், பொது மக்கள் மத்தியில் அந்த நபரை அடித்தே கொன்று இருக்கிறான்.

இதை எதோ குரங்கு வித்தை பார்ப்பது போல பார்த்து கடந்து சென்ற நாம் மும்பைல நடந்த குண்டு வெடிப்புக்கு அதிகாரிகளையும், அரசாங்கத்தையும் குறை கூற எந்த விதத்திலும் அருகதை இல்லை. 

அங்க இருந்த ஒருத்தனுக்கு கூடவா இதை தடுக்க தைரியம் இல்லை? எப்படி வரும் தைரியம்? இப்போ ஒருத்தன் தடுக்க முயற்சி பண்றானு வைங்க, எப்படியும் அவனுக்கும் அடி விழும், இல்லை அவனும் போலீஸ் ஸ்டேஷன் போக வேண்டியது வரும். வீட்ல இருக்கவங்க சும்மாவா இருபாங்க? 

உனக்கு ஏன் இந்த வேண்டாத வேலை? அதனை பேரும் பாத்திட்டு பேசாம தான இருந்தாங்க, நீ தான் உலகத்த காப்பாத்த போரவணா? போன்ற கேள்விகளுக்கு ஆளாக வேண்டும் . 

மும்பைல அரசாங்கம் மட்டும் என்ன வீட்டுக்கு வீடு கண்காணிக்க முடியுமா, இல்லை பொது இடத்திற்கு வரும் எலோரையும் சோதனை இட முடியுமா? எப்படியும் எவனுகாவது இதை பத்தி முனாடியே தெரிந்திருக்கும் எனக்கு எதுக்கு வம்புனு தான் இருந்திருப்பான்.

அதனால அரசங்காத குறை கூறுவதையும், திருத்துவதையும் விட்டுட்டு நாம நம்மள திருத்துவோம். நம்ம தான் இப்படி வளந்துடோம், நம்ம குழந்தைகளாவது தைரியத்தோடு வளர தேவையான சூழலை உருவாக்குவோம்.

தன்னை சுற்றி நடக்கும் தப்பை கண்டு கோபப் படும் பொழுது பொழைக்க தெரியாதவனு சொல்வதை விட்டுவிட்டு அவர்களுக்கு துணை நிற்போம்.

அந்த கோபத்தை வன்முறை இன்றி வெளிபடுத்த உதவுவோம். அதன் விளைவாக நம் பிள்ளைகளுக்கு ஏற்படும் இழப்புகளுக்கு ஆறுதல் அளிப்போம், எந்த சூழலிலும் அவர்களுடன் நாம் இருப்போம் என்ற நம்பிக்கையை ஏற்படுத்துவோம். இதுவே மாற்றத்தை ஏற்படுத்தும். 

பாசு நாட்ட திருத்த நம்ம கேப்டன் இருகாரு, நாம நம்ம வீட்ட திருத்துவோம்.

"Be the change you want to see" - Mahatma Gandhi

Do you like it? If yes don't forget to vote for it.

என்று முடியும் இந்த கிளியின் லீலை?

குறிப்பு: இந்த பதிவை முழுமையாக ரசிக்க நீங்கள் என் நண்பன் கிளியை பற்றி தெரிந்திருக்க வேண்டும்.

சனிகிழமை அவசரமாக கோவைக்கு கிளம்ப நேரிட்டது. டிக்கெட் முன்பதிவு செய்யாததால் அரசு பேருந்தில் கிளம்பி சென்றேன். மறுதினம் முகூர்த்த நாள் என்பதால் பேருந்தில் இடம் கிடைப்பது இன்னும் சிரமமாக இருக்கும். அதனால் செய்வது அறியாமல் எனது கல்லுரி நண்பன் கிளியின் உதவியை நாடினேன். அவனும் சில பேருந்துகளில் விசாரித்து விட்டு இடம் இல்லை என்று கூறிவிட்டான்.

மறுநாள் 11.45 மணிக்கு கோவை தனியார் பேருந்து நிலையத்திற்கு சென்றேன் என் அதிஷ்டம் ஒரு குளிர் சாதன வண்டி தயார் நிலையில் இருந்தது. 12 மணிக்கு வண்டி கிளம்பி விட்டது, சுமார் அரை மணி நேர பயணத்திற்கு பிறகு எனக்கு சனி உச்சத்திற்கு வந்து விட்டது. எனது நண்பன் கிளி என்னை கைபேசியில் அழைத்து எனது பயணம் குறித்து விசாரித்தான்.

அதற்கு பிறகு வேகமெடுத்த பேருந்து பேய் வேகத்தில் சென்று 2  மணி அளவில் சேலத்தை சென்று அடைந்தது. அங்கே ஆறு பயணிகள் ஏறினர். அதில் ஒரு பயணி இநோருவரிடம் நான் கிருஷ்ணகிரியில் இறங்கி விடுவேன் அங்கிருந்து பெங்களுரு செல்ல பேருந்து கிடைக்குமா என்று கேட்டார், அதற்கு அவர் இந்த வண்டியே பெங்களுற்கு தான் செல்கிறது என்று சொன்னவுடன் எனக்கு வேர்த்து விட்டது. நான் இல்லை இந்த வண்டி சென்னைக்கு செல்கிறது என்றேன். இதை கேட்ட சில பயணிகள் இது சென்னைக்கு செல்கிறது என்றும் சிலர் இல்லை பெங்களுற்கு செல்கிறது என்றும் கூறினார்.

டிக்கெட் ஏற்றிய அந்த நாதேறி யார் என்று தெரிய வில்லை. பிரெச்சனை பெரிதானவுடன் என்ன செய்வது என்று புரியாத நடத்துனர், சென்னைக்கு போகிறவர்கள் எல்லாரும் கையை தூக்குங்கள் என்றார் அதிஷ்ட வசமாக சென்னைக்கு செல்வோர் எண்ணிக்கை அதிகமாக இருந்ததால் பெங்களுருக்கு செல்லும் பயணிகளை இறக்கி விட முடிவு செய்தார். இதனால் ஆத்திரம் அடிந்த பயணிகள் சண்டை இடவும் இனொரு பேருந்தில் அவர்களை ஏற்றி செல்வது என்று முடிவு செய்யப்பட்ட பின்பு எங்கள் பேருந்தை எடுக்க அனுமதித்தனர். காலதாமதமாக பேருந்து புறப்பட்டு சென்றது.

எப்படியோ அடித்து பிடித்து கோயம்பேடு வந்து சேரும் பொழுது மணி 9.30. நல்ல வேலை கிளியின் லீலையால் பெங்களூர் செல்லாமல் தப்பித்தோம் என்று நினைத்து தாம்பரம் செல்லும் பேருந்திற்காக காத்திருந்தேன். சுமார் ஒரு மணி நேரத்திற்கு பிறகு வந்த பேருந்தில் ஏறுவதற்கு ஒரு 100 பேராவது காத்திருந்தனர். ஒருவழியாக பேருந்தில் ஏறி தாம்பரம் வந்து சேர்கையில் மணி 11.15.

மேற்கு தாம்பரத்தில் இருந்து கிழக்கு தாம்பரத்திற்கு நடந்து வந்து சேர்ந்தால் ஒரு 200 பேர் சாலை மறியலில் செய்து கொண்டு இருந்தனர். என்வென்று விசாரித்தால் இரவு நேர பேருந்து அனைத்தும் நிறுத்தப்பட்டு விட்டதாகவும் அதனால் ஆட்டோ டிரைவர்கள் தங்கள் இஷ்டத்திற்கு விலை ஏற்றி விட்டதாகவும் புலம்பி தள்ளினர். சாதரணமாக என் வீட்டிற்கு செல்ல 60 ரூபாய் வாங்கும் ஆட்டோ காரர்கள் அன்று 150 ரூபாய் கேட்டனர்.

டிராபிக் போலீஸ் எவ்வளவு சமாதனம் செய்தும் கேட்கவில்லை. பிறகு அவர் டிபோவிற்கு போன் செய்து ஒரு பேருந்தை வர செய்தார். பயணிகள் அமர்ந்து வண்டி புறப்படும் நில்லையில் அது பிரேக்டௌன் ஆனது, கடுப்பான மக்கள் மீண்டும் சாலை மறியல் செய்தனர்.

பின்பு அங்கு வந்த லாரி அனைத்தையும் நிறுத்தி அதில் மக்களை ஏற்றி அவர் அனுப்பி வைத்தார்.  ஒரு வழியாக வீடு வந்து சேர மணி 12.30. கலையில் நன்றாக ஆரம்பித்த என் பயணம் அந்த ஒரு போன் காலால் திசை மாறியது. என்னுடன் சேர்ந்து அவதி பட்ட மற்ற பயணிகளை நினைத்தாள் தான் பரிதாபமாக உள்ளது.

இந்த கிளின் தொலைக்கு முடிவே இல்லையா ?

Do you like it? If yes don't forget to vote for it.

கல்வி கட்டணம்

  தொலைகாட்சி பெட்டி, மிக்சி இலவசமா தரத்துக்கு பதிலா கல்வியும், மருத்துவமும் இலவசமா தந்தா நல்ல தான் இருக்கும். தனியார் கல்வி நிறுவனங்கள் கட்டனத்த அரசு நிர்ணயம் பண்றங்கனு கேள்வி பட்டேன், இது எந்த வகைல உதவும்னு தெரியவில்லை. 

என்ன தான் கல்வி கட்டணத்தை நிர்ணயம் செய்தாலும் எதாவது ஒரு வகையில் இழந்ததை எப்படியும் நன்கொடை , புத்தக கட்டணம்,  தேர்வு கட்டணம், கேளிக்கை கட்டணம் என்று வசூலித்து விடுவார்கள்.  

கல்வி தொகை அதிகமாக இருபதற்கு தனியார் கல்விநிலையங்கள் சொல்லும் கரணங்கள் இவை 

• அதி நவீன உள்கட்டமைப்பு 
• கல்வித்தரம்
• ஆசிரியர் சம்பளம் 

பெரும்பாலான பெற்றோர்கள் இதை ஒத்துக்கொண்டு தங்கள் பிள்ளைகளை அங்கு சேர்பதால் தான் வருட வருடம் கல்வி கட்டணம் அதிகரித்து கொண்டே போகிறது. அதுவும் இல்லாமல் அவர்கள் பள்ளியில் சேர்க்கும் விதிகள் இருகிறதே. L.K.G படிக்கும் பிள்ளைக்கு நேர்முக தேர்வு, தாயார் படித்திருக்க வேண்டும் அதுவும் ஆங்கில வழியில் ஆனால் வேளைக்கு செல்ல கூடாது (வீட்டில் சொல்லி தர வேண்டுமாம்). நல்ல வேலை வீட்டில் வேலை செய்யும் ஆயவும் பித்தாகருஸ் சூத்திரம் படித்திருக்க வேண்டும் என்று சொல்ல வில்லை. 

எனக்கு என்னவோ இதை எல்லாம் விட்டு விட்டு அரசு பள்ளியின் தரத்தை உயர்த்துவது தான் சரியான தீர்வாக இருக்கும் என்று தோன்றுகிறது. என்ன வேடிக்கை என்றால் அரசு கல்வி ஆசிரியர்களுக்கு தான் சலுகைகள் அதிகம் அனால் அங்கு தான் தரம் ரொம்ப குறைவு. இதற்கு காரணங்களாக நான் கருதுவது 

• மோசமான கல்வி தரம்
• கேள்வி கேட்க ஆள் இல்லை 
• ஆசிரியர் பனி நியமனத்தில் உள்ள மோசடி 
• ஏழை மாணவர்கள் படிபதினால் உள்ள மெத்தனம் 

எனக்கு தெரிந்த சில அரசு பள்ளி ஆசிரியர்கள் பள்ளியில் படம் நடத்துவதே கிடையாது, ஆனால் தனியார் பயிறிசியில் முனைப்பாக உள்ளனர். இதற்கு தீர்வாக நான் கருதுவது 

1. இலவசங்களை நீக்கி விட்டு, 10 KM ஒரு அரசு பள்ளி அமைப்பது.
2. ஆசிரியர் பனி நியமனத்தை சீர்படுத்தி, தகுதியான ஆசிரியர்களை நியமிப்பது.
3. சமச்சீர் கல்வியை அமல் படுத்துவது .
4. தலைமை ஆசிரியர்களை, பள்ளியின் சாதனை சார்ந்த சம்பளம் அளிப்பது.
5. கல்வி ஒரு வியாபாரம் ஆகிவிட்ட நில்லையில் அதை ஒப்பு கொண்டு அதில் வரும் வருமானத்தை வரி விதிப்பது. 
6. SEBI, TRAI, IRDA போன்ற அமைப்பை ஏற்படுத்தி முறை படுத்துவது. 
7. அரசு வேளையில் இருப்பவர்கள் தங்கள் குழந்தைகளை கட்டயமாக அரசு பள்ளியில் சேர்க்க வேண்டும் என்று சட்டம் கொண்டு வருவது அல்லது 
8. அரசு பள்ளியின் தரம் உயரும் வரை ஒரு 10 வருடங்களுக்கு அரசு பள்ளியில் படிக்கும் மாணவர்களுக்கு 5 மதிப்பெண் கட் ஆப் மார்க்கில் அதிகமாக கொடுப்பது அல்லது
9. அரசு பள்ளிளியில் சேர்க்கும் மாணவர்களின் பெற்றோருக்கு வருமான வரி விலக்கு அளிப்பது போன்ற வற்றை செய்தால் அரசு பள்ளியின் தரம் உயர வாய்ப்பு இருக்கிறது 

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Windows 8

Steven Sinofsky has today finally revealed the new Windows 8 tablet UI at D9, which is very much like the Windows Phone 7 or the Zune interface. Microsoft has also announced for the first time that the next version of Windows is at present internally called as Windows 8. According to All Things Digital Windows 8 essentially supports two kinds of applications. One is the classic Windows application, which runs in a desktop very similar to the Windows 7 desktop.The other type of application, which has to be written in HTML5 and Javascript, looks more like a mobile application, filling the full screen. Internet Explorer 10, which is part of Windows 8, has already been configured to run in this mode, as have several widget-like apps for checking stock prices and weather

The start screen pretty much confirms the upcoming Windows Store and all the apps would be downloaded via it. Sinofsky further clarified that Windows 8 would have Internet Explorer 10 by default which we have mentioned earlier.

The company has posted few aspects of the new interface which was shown today at D9:

• Fast launching of apps from a tile-based Start screen, which replaces the Windows Start menu with a customizable, scalable full-screen view of apps.
• Live tiles with notifications, showing always up-to-date information from your apps.
• Fluid, natural switching between running apps.
• Convenient ability to snap and resize an app to the side of the screen, so you can really multitask using the capabilities of Windows.
• Web-connected and Web-powered apps built using HTML5 and JavaScript that have access to the full power of the PC.
• Fully touch-optimized browsing, with all the power of hardware-accelerated Internet Explorer 10.

Here is the Video showing the new Windows 8 UI-

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SEAL Team 6

The navy SEALs Team Six is the one which led the successful assault on Osama bin Laden’s compound in Abbottabad, Pakistan.   The existence  of SEALs Team Six  has never been acknowledged by the military or by the US Government.

Navy SEAL Requirements

Official U.S. Navy photo. 
SEAL training

Entering training to become a Navy SEAL is voluntary. Anyone can volunteer, and officers and enlisted men train side by side. In order to enter SEAL training, however, they do have to meet certain requirements. Those wishing to volunteer for SEAL training have to:

• be an active-duty member of the U.S. Navy
• be a man (women aren't allowed to be Navy SEALs)
• be 28 or younger (although waivers for 29- and 30-year-olds are possible)
• have good vision -- at least 20/40 in one eye and 20/70 in the other (corrective surgery is also possible)
• be a U.S. citizen
• pass the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery (ASVAB)
• Pass a stringent physical screening test that includes the following procedure:
  1. swim 500 yards in 12.5 minutes or less, followed by a 10-minute rest
  2. do 42 push-ups in under two minutes, followed by a two-minute rest
  3. do 50 sit-ups in under two minutes, followed by a two-minute rest
  4. do six pull-ups, followed by a 10-minute rest
  5. run 1.5 miles in boots and long pants in less than 11.5 minutes

Once a potential SEAL qualifies for training, the real fun starts.

Their Belief System

From day one in SEAL training, trainees are taught the importance of teamwork. Focus is not on the individual. The fact that the SEALs have never left another SEAL behind on a mission is a testament to this belief system. Throughout their training, they learn more and more why teamwork is necessary in the type of work they will soon be entering: SEALs are performing tasks that may not be possible for a single man to accomplish, but can be possible for a team composed of men who have the same training and skills. Their success depends on what they can do together as a team.

BOOK EXCERPT: SEAL Team Six 

About The Author:

DR. HOWARD E. WASDIN graduated with BUD/S Class 143. After the Battle of Mogadishu, where he was awarded the Silver Star, Wasdin medically retired from the Navy in November, 1995, after 12 years of service. He lives in Georgia.

 STEPHEN TEMPLIN completed Hell Week, qualified as a pistol and rifle expert, and blew up things during Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL (BUD/S) training. He is now an associate professor at Meio University in Japan.

Adapted from SEAL Team Six: Memoirs of an Elite Navy Seal Sniper by Howard E. Wasdin and Stephen Templin, to be published this month by St. Martin’s Press; © 2011 by the authors.

Pasha team: (kneeling in front, left to right) Little Big Man, Casanova, Howard, and Sourpuss.

W

hen I showed up at the Naval Special Warfare Center in Coronado, California, I walked over the sand berm and saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time. Huge waves crashed in.

Holy crap. I jumped into the balmy California water. It wasn’t balmy—especially in comparison to the Florida gulf waters I’d trained in.

That’s freezing. I popped out quicker than I’d jumped in. Wonder how much time we’re going to have to spend in that.

During the days leading up to training, SEAL Master Chief Rick Knepper helped prepare us with early-morning swims in the pool and late-afternoon calisthenics on the beach. Master Chief looked like an ordinary guy in his 40s, calmly exercising as we grunted and groaned. He didn’t seem to break a sweat.

Master Chief didn’t tell us about his experiences in Vietnam. We would have to find out about them from others. Master Chief had served with SEAL Team One, Delta Platoon, 2nd Squad. His squad thought they knew about Hon Tai, a large island in Nha Trang Bay. From a distance, the island looked like a big rock sitting in the ocean for birds to take a crap on. Then two Vietcong, tired of fighting and being away from family, defected from the island and told U.S. intelligence about the camp full of VC they left behind.

Under the cover of darkness, Master Chief Knepper’s squad of seven SEALs arrived by boat. Not even the moon shone. His squad free-climbed a 350-foot cliff. After reaching the top, they lowered themselves into the VC camp. The seven-man squad split into two fire teams, taking off their boots and going barefoot to search for a VIP to snatch. Going barefoot didn’t leave behind telltale American boot prints in the dirt. It also made it easier to detect booby traps, and bare feet were easier to pull out of mud than boots. In the camp, though, the VC surprised the SEALs. A grenade landed at Lieutenant (j.g.) Bob Kerrey’s feet. It exploded, slamming him into the rocks and destroying the lower half of his leg. Lieutenant Kerrey managed to radio the other fire team. When the team arrived, they caught the VC in a deadly crossfire. Four VC tried to escape, but the SEALs mowed them down. Three VC stayed to fight, and the SEALs cut them down, too.

A hospital corpsman SEAL lost his eye. One of the SEALs put a tourniquet on Kerrey’s leg.

The SEAL squad snatched several VIPs, along with three large bags of documents (including a list of VC in the city), weapons, and other equipment. Lieutenant Kerrey continued to lead Master Chief Knepper and the others in their squad until they were evacuated. The intel received from the documents and VIPs gave critical information to the allied forces in Vietnam. Lieutenant Kerrey received the Medal of Honor and would go on to become Nebraska’s governor and senator. Our mentors were among the best in the business.

On the first morning of indoctrination into BUD/S, we had to do the physical screening test again. After a cold shower and some push-ups, we began the test. Afraid of failing the swim, I kicked and stroked for all I was worth. Somehow, I completed it in time. Then we did the push-ups, sit-ups, chin-ups, and run. One guy failed; he hung his head as the instructors sent him packing.

That evening, the SEAL instructors stood before us and introduced themselves. At the end, Lieutenant Moore told us we could quit if we wanted to by walking outside and ringing the bell three times.

“I’ll wait,” Lieutenant Moore said.

I thought the lieutenant was bluffing, but some of my classmates began ringing the bell.

A number of my remaining classmates were impressive: an Iron Man triathlete, a college football player, and others. One evening in the barracks, I looked at myself in the mirror. These guys are like race horses.

What the hell am I doing here?

The next day, Iron Man rang the bell. I couldn’t understand why.

One of our first training evolutions included the obstacle course (O-course). One night a SEAL might have to exit a submerged submarine, hang on for dear life as his Zodiac jumps over waves, scale a cliff, hump through enemy territory to his objective, scale a three-story building, do his deed, and get the hell out. The O-course helps prepare a man for that kind of work. It has also broken more than one trainee’s neck or back—climbing over the top of the 60-foot cargo net is a bad time to lose arm strength. Much of our training was dangerous, and injuries were common.

We lined up in alphabetical order by our last names. I stood near the end, watching everyone take off before me. When my turn came, I took off like a cruise missile. I couldn’t understand why I was passing so many people.

Partway through, I ran to the bottom of a three-story tower. I jumped up and grabbed the ledge to the second floor, then swung my legs up. I jumped up and grabbed the ledge to the third floor, then swung my legs up. Then I came back down. As I moved on to more obstacles, I noticed someone stuck behind on the three-story tower.

There stood Mike W., who had played football at the University of Alabama, tears of frustration streaming down his face because he couldn’t make it to the third floor.

With a hint of Georgia in his accent, Instructor Stoneclam yelled, “You can run up and down a college football field, but you can’t get up to the top of one obstacle. You sissy!”

I wondered what the hell was wrong with Mike W. He was in way better shape than I was. Wasn’t he? (Mike would severely injure his back, but Captain Bailey kept him around doing therapy for almost a year. Later, he became an outstanding SEAL officer.)

A number of the race horses were the biggest crybabies. They’d probably been No. 1 much of their lives, and now when they had their first taste of adversity—BUD/S style—they couldn’t handle it.

What the hell is wrong with these prima donnas?

Although running and swimming came hard for me, the obstacle course turned out to be one of my favorite events. Bobby H. and I were always pushing each other out of the No. 1 ranking. Instructor Stoneclam advised a student, “Look how Wasdin attacks the obstacles.”

I’d rather be doing this than picking watermelons.

Danger had become a constant companion. Danger or no danger, one of our instructors always spoke in the same monotone. In a classroom at the Naval Special Warfare Center, Instructor Blah’s jungle boot stepped on a 13-foot-long black rubber boat resting on the floor in front of my class. “Today, I’m going to brief you on surf passage. This is the IBS. Some people call it the Itty-Bitty Ship, and you’ll probably have your own pet names to give it, but the navy calls it the Inflatable Boat, Small. You will man it with six to eight men who are about the same height. These men will be your boat crew.”

He drew a primitive picture on the board of the beach, ocean, and stick men scattered around the IBS. He pointed to the stick men scattered in the ocean. “This is you guys after a wave has just wiped you out.”

He drew a stick man on the beach. “This is one of you after the ocean spit you out. And guess what? The next thing the ocean is going to spit out is the boat.”

“Drown-proofing” in BUD/S. Courtesy of the U.S. Navy.

Instructor Blah used his eraser like a boat. “Now the hundred-and-seventy-pound IBS is full of water and weighs about as much as a small car, and it’s coming right at you here on the beach. What are you going to do? If you’re standing in the road, and a small car comes speeding at you, what are you going to do? Try to outrun it? Of course not. You’re going to get out of the road. Same thing when the boat comes speeding at you. You’re going to get out of the path it’s traveling. Run parallel to the beach.

“Some of you look sleepy. All of you drop and push ’em out!”

After push-ups and more instruction, we went outside, where the sunshine had dimmed. Soon we stood by our boats facing the ocean.

Bulky orange kapok life jackets covered our battle dress uniforms (BDUs). We tied our hats to the top buttonholes on our shirts with orange cord. Each of us held our paddle like a rifle at the order-arms position, waiting for our boat leaders to come back from where the instructors were briefing them.

Before long they returned and gave us orders. With boat handle in one hand and paddle in the other, all the crews raced into the water.

Losers would pay with their flesh—it pays to be a winner.

“Ones in!” our boat leader, Mike H., called.

Our two front men jumped into the boat and started paddling.

I ran in water almost up to my knees.

“Twos in!”

Two more jumped in and started paddling.

“Threes in!”

I jumped in with the man across from me, and we paddled. Mike jumped in last, using his oar at the stern to steer. “Stroke, stroke!” he called.

In front of us, a seven-foot wave formed. I dug my paddle in deep and pulled back as hard as I could.

“Dig, dig, dig!” Mike called.

Our boat climbed up the face of the wave. I saw one of the other boats clear the tip. We weren’t so lucky. The wave picked us up and slammed us down, sandwiching us between our boat and the water.

As the ocean swallowed us, I swallowed boots, paddles, and cold seawater.

I realized, This could kill me.

Eventually, the ocean spit us out onto the beach along with most of the other boat crews. The instructors greeted us by dropping us. With our boots on the boats, hands in the sand, and gravity against us, we did push-ups.

Then we gathered ourselves together and went at it again—with more motivation and better teamwork. This time, we cleared the breakers.

Back onshore, a boyish-faced trainee from another boat crew picked his paddle up off the beach. As he turned around to face the ocean, a passengerless boat filled with seawater raced at him sideways.

Instructor Blah shouted into the megaphone, “Get out of there!”

Boy-Face ran away from the boat, just like the instructors told us not to. Fear has a way of turning Einsteins into amoebas.

“Run parallel to the beach! Run parallel to the beach!”

Boy-Face continued to try to outrun the speeding boat. The boat came out of the water and slid sideways like a hovercraft over the hard wet sand. When it ran out of hard wet sand, its momentum carried it over the soft dry sand until it hacked Boy-Face down. Instructor Blah, other instructors, and the ambulance rushed to the wounded man.

Doc, one of the SEAL instructors, started first aid. No one heard Boy-Face call out in pain. The boat broke his leg at the thigh bone.

As training progressed, dangers increased. Later in training, instead of landing our boats on the sand under the sun, we would land our boats on boulders at night in front of the Hotel del Coronado while ocean currents cut at us from two directions. Legend has it that those boulders used to be one rock before BUD/S trainees cracked it with their heads.

The sun lay buried in the horizon as we marched double-time through the Naval Amphibious Base across the street. Wearing the same green uniforms, we sang out in cadence, looking confident, but the tension in the air was thick. If anybody is going to die, this is going to be the time.

We arrived at the pool located at Building 164 and stripped down to our UDT swim shorts. An instructor said, “You are going to love this. Drown-proofing is one of my favorites. Sink or swim, sweet peas.”

I tied my feet together, and my swim partner tied my hands behind my back.

“When I give the command, the bound men will hop into the deep end of the pool,” Instructor Stoneclam said. “You must bob up and down 20 times, float for five minutes, swim to the shallow end of the pool, turn around without touching the bottom, swim back to the deep end, do a forward and backward somersault underwater, and retrieve a face mask from the bottom of the pool with your teeth.”

The hardest part for me was swimming the length of the pool and back with my feet tied together and hands tied behind my back. I had to flip around like a dolphin. Even so, I’d rather be doing this than being awakened from a dead sleep and slapped around.

Although I did my duty, others didn’t. We lost a muscular black guy because his body was so dense that he just sank like a rock to the bottom of the pool. A skinny redheaded hospital corpsman jumped in the water, but instead of swimming straight, he swam in a horseshoe.

An instructor told him, “Swim in a straight line. What the hell is wrong with you?” The instructors found out later that Redhead was almost blind. He had forged his medical records to get to BUD/S.

For every guy who would do anything to get in, there were guys who wanted to get out. Stoneclam wouldn’t let them.

“You can’t quit now!” Instructor Stoneclam screamed. “This is only Indoc. Training hasn’t even started yet!” We were still only in the indoctrination phase.

After three weeks of Indoc, we began First Phase, Basic Conditioning.

Our class continued to shrink due to performance failures, injuries, and quitting. I wondered how much longer I could continue without being dropped because of a performance failure or an injury. Of course, most evolutions were a kick in the crotch, designed to punish us. Woe to the trainee who let the pain show in his face. An instructor would say, “You didn’t like that? Well, do some more.” Likewise to the trainee who showed no pain. “You liked that? Here’s another kick in the crotch.”

The torment continued throughout each day—push-ups, runs, push-ups, calisthenics, push-ups, swims, push-ups, O-course—day after day, week after week. We ran a mile one-way just to eat a meal. Round-trip multiplied by three meals made for six miles a day just to eat! We never seemed to have enough time to recover before the next evolution hit us.

On top of everything, the instructors poured on the stress with verbal harassment. Most of them didn’t need to raise their voices to tell us, “Grandma was slow, but she was old.”

Each one of us seemed to have an Achilles’ heel—and the instructors excelled at finding it. The hardest evolutions for me were the four-mile timed runs on the beach wearing long pants and jungle boots. I dreaded them. Soft sand sucked the energy out of my legs, and waves attacked me when I tried to run on the hard pack. Some guys ran out in front, some stayed in the middle, and others like me brought up the rear. Almost every time, at the two-mile marker at the North Island fence, an instructor would say, “Wasdin, you’re getting behind. You’re going to have to kick it on the way back.” With each run, the time demands became tougher.

I failed one four-mile timed run by seconds. While everyone else went back to the barracks, the four or five others who also failed joined me to form a goon squad. After having spent nearly everything I had on the run, I knew this was going to suck. We ran sprints up and down the sand berm, jumped into the cold water, then rolled up and down the sand berm until our wet bodies looked like sugar cookies. The sand found its way into my eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. We did squat thrusts, eight-count bodybuilders, and all manner of acrobatic tortures until the sand rubbed our wet skin raw and nearly every muscle in our bodies broke down. It was my first goon squad—and the only one I ever needed. I may die on the next timed run, but I ain’t doin’ this crap again. There was one guy who swam like a fish but ended up in goon squad time and time again for not keeping up on the runs. I wondered how he ever survived all the goon squads.

In First Phase, one thing sucked more than the four-mile timed runs:

Hell Week—the ultimate in train the best, discard the rest. It began late Sunday night with what is called breakout. M-60 machine guns blasted the air. We crawled out of the barracks as an instructor screamed, “Move, move, move!”

Outside on the grinder, an asphalt-covered area the size of a small parking lot, artillery simulators exploded—an incoming shriek followed by a boom. M-60s continued to rattle. A machine pumped a blanket of fog over the area. Green chemlights, glow sticks, decorated the outer perimeter. Water hoses sprayed us. The smell of cordite hung in the air. Over the loudspeakers blasted AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell.”

Terror covered the faces of many guys. Their eyes looked like two fried eggs. Only minutes into it, the bell started ringing—people quit.

You can’t be serious. What the hell’s wrong? Yeah, instructors are running around shooting off machine guns and everything, but no one has smacked me in the face or beat me with a belt yet. I couldn’t comprehend why people were quitting already.

One legendary Hell Week event occurs on a steel pier where the navy docks its small boats. We took off our boots and stuffed our socks and belts in them. My fingers were so numb and shaky that I had a tough time taking off my boots.

Wearing our olive-drab green uniforms, we jumped into the bay with no life jackets, shoes, or socks. I immediately laid out in a dead man’s float while I undid the fly on my trousers. Still in a dead man’s float, when I needed air I’d bring my face out of the freezing water and take a quick bite of oxygen, then resume my position facedown in the water. When I started to sink too much, I kicked a couple of strokes.

Meanwhile, I pulled off my trousers. Then I zipped the fly shut.

With my trousers off, I tied the ends of the legs together with a square knot. Then, using both hands, I grabbed hold of the waist and kicked until my body straightened up from its float. I lifted my pants high in the air, then slammed them forward and down on the water, trapping air in the trouser legs.

As my upper body hung over the valley in the V of my homemade trouser flotation device, I felt relief. I had been so concerned about drowning that I had forgotten how frigid the water felt. Now that I wasn’t drowning, I started to remember the cold.

Some of our guys swam back to the pier. We tried to call them back, but they’d had enough. Ring, ring, ring.

Instructor Stoneclam said, “If one more of you rings the bell, the rest of you can come out of the water, too. Inside the ambulance we have warm blankets and a thermos of hot coffee.”

After one more ring of the bell, Stoneclam said, “Everybody out of the water!”

“Hooyah!”

We crawled out of the water and onto the floating steel pier.

Instructor Stoneclam said, “Now strip down to your undershorts and lie down on the pier. If you don’t have shorts, your birthday suit is even better.”

I stripped down to my birthday suit and lay down. The instructors had prepared the pier by spraying it down with water. Mother Nature had prepared the pier by blowing cool wind across it. I felt like I was lying down on a block of ice. Then the instructors sprayed us with cold water. Our muscles contracted wildly. The spasms were uncontrollable.

We flapped around on the steel deck like fish out of water.

The instructors took us to the early stages of hypothermia. I would’ve done almost anything to get warm. Mike said, “Sorry, man, I gotta pee.”

“It’s O.K., man. Pee here.”

He urinated on my hands.

“Oh, thanks, buddy.” The warmth felt so good.

Most people think it’s just gross—they’ve obviously never been really cold.

Wednesday night—halfway through Hell Week—was the one time I thought about quitting. The instructors wasted no time beginning Lyon’s Lope, named after a Vietnam SEAL. We paddled our black inflatable boat about 250 yards out to pylons in San Diego Bay, turned the boat upside down, then right side up (called “dump boat”), paddled back to shore, ran half a mile on land carrying only our paddles, tossed our paddles into the back of a truck, sat in the bay to form a human centipede, hand-paddled 400 yards, ran 600 yards, grabbed our paddles and used them to centipede-paddle 400 yards, grabbed our boats, and boat-paddled out to the pylons, then back to shore. We all had Stage Two hypothermia. Stage One is mild to strong shivering with numbness in the hands—most people have experienced this level of hypothermia. Stage Two is violent shivering with mild confusion and stumbling. In Stage Three, the core body temperature drops below 90 degrees, shivering stops, and a person becomes a babbling, bumbling idiot. There is no Stage Four—only death. The instructors calculated air and water temperatures along with how long we stayed in the water in order to make us as cold as possible without causing permanent damage or killing us.

It was standing room only at the bell. My classmates rang it like Coronado was on fire. The instructors had backed up ambulances and opened the doors. Inside sat my former classmates wrapped up in wool blankets drinking hot chocolate. Instructor Stoneclam said, “Come here, Wasdin. You’re married, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Instructor Stoneclam.” My muscles felt too exhausted to move, but they shivered violently anyway.

“You don’t need this. Come here.” He walked me to the backs of the ambulances, so I could feel their warm air hit me in the face. “Have a cup of this hot chocolate.”

I held it in my hand. It was warm.

“If we’d wanted you to have a wife, we would’ve issued you one,” he explained. “Go over there and ring that damn bell. Get this over. I’ll let you drink that hot chocolate. Put you in this warm ambulance. Wrap you up in a thick blanket. And you don’t have to put up with this anymore.”

I looked over at the bell. It would be that easy. All I have to do is pull that mother three times. I thought about the heated ambulances with blankets and hot chocolate. Then I caught myself. Wait a minute. I’m not thinking clearly. That’s quitting. “Hooyah, Instructor Stoneclam.” I gave him back his hot chocolate.

“Get back with your class.”

Handing him back that cup of hot chocolate was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Let me go back and freeze while I get my nuts kicked some more.

Mike H. and I had a six-man boat crew before the other four quit. Now it was only the two of us struggling to drag our boat, weighing nearly 200 pounds, back to the BUD/S compound—instructors yelling at us for being too slow. We cussed at the quitters. “You sorry pieces of crap.” When Mike and I arrived at the compound, we were still angry.

Mike and I had gone from being their comrades to cussing them out for abandoning us. It’s why the training is so brutal. To find out who has your back when all hell breaks loose. After Wednesday night, I don’t remember anyone else quitting.

Early Thursday morning, I sat in the chow hall. They’re going to have to kill me. After everything I’ve been through, they’re going to have to cut me up in little pieces and mail me back to Wayne County, Georgia, because I’m not quitting now. Inside me, something clicked. It no longer mattered what we did next. I didn’t care. This has got to end sometime.

Deprived of support in our environment and the support of our own bodies, the only thing propping us up was our belief in accomplishing the mission—complete Hell Week. In psychology this belief is called self-efficacy. Even when the mission seems impossible, it is the strength of our belief that makes success possible. The absence of this belief guarantees failure. A strong belief in the mission fuels our ability to focus, put forth effort, and persist. Believing allows us to see the goal (complete Hell Week) and break the goal down into more manageable objectives (one evolution at a time). If the evolution is a boat race, it can be broken down into even smaller objectives such as paddling. Believing allows us to seek out strategies to accomplish the objectives, such as using the larger shoulder muscles to paddle rather than the smaller forearm muscles. Then, when the race is done, move on to the next evolution. Thinking too much about what happened and what is about to happen will wear you down. Live in the moment and take it one step at a time.

On Friday, the instructors took us out into the surf zone. We sat in the frigid ocean facing the sea with our arms linked, trying to stay together.

Instructor Stoneclam stood on the beach talking to our backs.

“This is the sorriest class we’ve ever seen. You couldn’t even keep the officers in your class.” Officers and enlisted men undergo the same training together. “You didn’t support them. You didn’t back them up. It’s your fault you don’t have any officers left. This last evolution, you had the slowest time in history. We have just received permission from Captain Bailey to extend Hell Week one more day.”

I looked over at my swim partner, Rodney. He seemed to be thinking what I was: Damn, we got to do this for one more day. O.K., you’ve been screwing us for this long, stick us in the ass for one more day.

Somebody else, I don’t remember who, wasn’t going to do an extra day. He would rather quit. Fortunately, he didn’t have to.

“Turn around and look at me when I’m talking to you!” Instructor Stoneclam said.

Like a platoon of zombies, we turned about-face.

There stood our commanding officer, Captain Larry Bailey. He had led one of the first SEAL Team Two platoons in Vietnam. He also helped create the SEAL Team Assault Boat (STAB). “Congratulations, men. I am securing Hell Week.”

Some of the others jumped for joy—I was hurting too bad for that kind of celebration. Randy Clendening cried tears of relief; he’d made it through with walking pneumonia. I stood there with a dumb look on my face. What am I doing here? I looked around. Where did everybody go? We’d started with 10 or 12 boat crews, six to eight men in each. Now we only had four or five boat crews. Why did those guys even start Hell Week if they knew they didn’t want it? They didn’t know they didn’t want it.

The next day, I rolled over on the top rack of my bunk bed and jumped off the way I always did, but my legs weren’t working. My face hit the deck, giving me a bloody nose and lip. A driver took us over to the chow hall in a van. People helped us get out of the vehicle. As we hobbled into the chow hall, all eyes seemed to be on us. We were the ones who had just made it through “the week.” It had been the coldest week in 23 years; hail had actually rained down on us at one point. While eating, I looked over at the tables where the guys who had quit during Hell Week sat.

They avoided eye contact.

Training resumed slowly, starting with a lot of stretching exercises.

Then it picked up speed. Time limits tightened. Distances increased.

More swims, runs, and obstacle course trials. Academic tests continued.

Pre–Hell Week, we had focused on topics such as first aid and boat handling. Now we focused on hydrographic reconnaissance. Enlisted men like me had to score 70 percent or higher. Although we had lost all our officers, officer standards were 80 percent or higher.

A new evolution we had to pass was the 50-meter underwater swim. At the pool, Instructor Stoneclam said, “All of you have to swim 50 meters underwater. You’ll do a somersault into the pool, so no one gets a diving start, and swim 25 meters across. Touch the end and swim 25 meters back. If you break the surface at any time, you fail. Don’t forget to swim along the bottom. The increased pressure on your lungs will help you hold your breath longer, so you can swim farther.”

I lined up with the second group of four students. We cheered the first group on. “Go for the blackout,” some of us said. It was a new way of thinking that would influence future activities—pushing the body to the edge of unconsciousness.

When it was my turn, I hyperventilated to decrease the carbon dioxide in my body and decrease the drive to breathe. During my somersault into the pool, I lost some breath. I oriented myself and swam as low as I could. After swimming 25 meters, I neared the other side.

During my turn, my foot touched the wall, but I didn’t get a great push-off.

My throat began to convulse as my lungs craved oxygen. Go for the blackout. I swam as hard as I could, but my body slowed down. The edges of my vision began to gray until I found myself looking at my destination through a black tunnel. As I felt myself begin to pass out, I actually felt peaceful. If I’d had any lingering thoughts about drowning, they were gone now. I tried to focus on the wall. Finally, my hand touched it. Instructor Stoneclam grabbed me by the waistband of my swim shorts and helped pull me out. I passed. Others were not so lucky. Two failed their second chance and were expelled from training.

(Note: Do not practice underwater swimming or breath holding at home because it will kill you.)

In Second Phase, Land Warfare, we learned covert infiltrations, sentry removal, handling agents/guides, gathering intelligence, snatching the enemy, performing searches, handling prisoners, shooting, blowing stuff up, etc. In Third Phase, Dive Phase, we learned underwater navigation and techniques for sabotaging ships. BUD/S prepares us to believe we can accomplish the mission—and to never surrender. No SEAL has ever been held prisoner of war. The only explicit training we receive in BUD/S is to look out for each other—leave no one behind. A lot of our tactical training deals with retreats, escape, and evasion. We are taught to be mentally tough, training repeatedly until our muscles can react automatically. In my encounters with the army, navy, air force, and marines, I’ve only seen Delta Force brief as well as we do.

A SEAL’s belief in accomplishing the mission transcends environmental or physical obstacles that threaten to make him fail. Often we think we’re indestructible. Forever the optimists, even when we’re outnumbered and outgunned, we still tend to think we have a chance to make it out alive—and be home in time for dinner.

Nevertheless, sometimes a SEAL can’t find his way back to Mother Ocean and must make a choice between fighting to the death or surrendering.

For many brave warriors, it’s better to roll the dice on surrendering in order to live to fight another day—SEALs have incredible respect for those POWs. As SEALs, though, we believe our surrender would be giving in, and giving in is never an option. I wouldn’t want to be used as some political bargaining chip against the United States.

I wouldn’t want to die in a cage of starvation or have my head cut off for some video to be shown around the world on the Internet. My attitude is that if the enemy wants to kill me, they’re going to have to kill me now. We despise would-be dictators who wish to dominate us—SEALs steer the rudders of their own destinies. Our world is a meritocracy where we are free to leave at any time. Our missions are voluntary; I can’t think of a mission that wasn’t. Ours is an unwritten code: It’s better to burn out than to fade away—and with our last breaths we’ll take as many of the enemy with us as possible.

Howard, graduating from BUD/S.

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