“I’ll be here before eleven thirty,” I said.

By noon I was in the EOD squad briefing room at Joint Expeditionary Base Little Creek.

The room smelled of floor wax, wet neoprene dive suits and black coffee from the pot by the whiteboards.

My commanding officer sat behind his heavy metal desk reading the administrative inquiry Wyler had entered into the regional public affairs database.

“The lieutenant is leaning hard on the formal designator rules,” my commander said, tapping his pen on my service jacket file.

“On paper, he’s right that Navy EOD and Special Warfare SEALs are separate career tracks.”