Polish commando NAVY SEALS - a story that shook the world - Tomasz "Drago" Dzieran

Dzieran describes Hell Week as the most famous part of BUD/S, but clarifies it's a selection tool, not just training. The event begins with a chaotic breach of the candidates' barracks with flashbangs, gunfire, and instructors screaming. Candidates perform endless physical exercises—running with boats and telephone poles, calisthenics with fins on their hands—while being constantly soaked with water. The instructional staff rotates every 6-8 hours, but the students get no such break. By the fourth day, Dzieran and his teammates began hallucinating, seeing things like giant glass walls in the water. The key is that the body is pushed so far that a candidate might not even notice a broken leg due to sheer exhaustion. The famous bell is mounted on an ambulance; to quit, a candidate must run to it and ring it three times. Dzieran notes that many candidates only wait for someone else to quit first, creating a cascade effect.

Dzieran describes the Third Phase on San Clemente Island as 'Hell Week on steroids.' Unlike the 5-day sprint of Hell Week, this is a prolonged grind. The island's isolation is a key psychological factor—no one can hear you scream. The weather in December was atrocious, with cold water and waves. A constant rule was that before every meal, candidates had to perform 11 pull-ups with gear. If they weren't done with perfect form, the candidate was sent on a 500-800 meter run into the ocean and back. This cycle would repeat multiple times until they were exhausted and freezing. Only then could they eat, but if they had failed the pull-ups, they had to eat outside in the wind, rain, and sand. This daily, relentless punishment made every single day the most extreme challenge.

Dzieran explains that drown-proofing, where candidates have their hands and feet tied and must complete swimming tasks, is not something they would ever do in combat. Its sole purpose is to test the candidate's mental reaction to an extremely stressful and helpless situation. It's a way to see how a person's mind works when they are on the verge of panic, providing instructors with a clear window into their psychological makeup.

Dzieran, who later became an instructor in the Second Phase, notes that this is where they lose the most people. It's a very technical phase focused on diving on open and closed-circuit systems. The shift from the purely physical and mental grind of the First Phase to the academic and technical precision of the Second Phase eliminates a different type of candidate—those who may be physically tough but cannot master complex skills under pressure.

After starting Kyokushin karate, Dzieran met a group with a different approach to fighting. Their teacher, a Laotian, taught that you can fight all day in the ring, but to be a good fighter, you must also be able to fight on the street where there are no rules. So they would go out looking for people to fight. They'd find groups drinking beer, provoke a single person (e.g., by spitting in their beer), and then one of them would fight while the others watched. Afterward, they'd critique the performance: 'you were too slow here,' 'you could have hit him there.' They escalated from single opponents to groups of two or three, drawing lots to see who got to fight because everyone wanted to. They never attacked from behind or chased those who ran, and they never targeted the elderly or weak.

After his father left, Dzieran was frequently ambushed in his apartment building's stairwell by two or three older boys. He quickly learned that a small, concealable weapon like a metal pipe was an effective equalizer. The beatings he delivered were so severe that an ambulance would sometimes be called for the attacker. Word spread around the neighborhood that following him into the stairwell was a bad idea. This early experience was the foundation of his belief that 'violence always works.' He eventually gave up the pipe when he started boxing and his fists became sufficient weapons.

Dzieran describes the extreme poverty of his childhood, where he often went to school hungry because his mother couldn't get bread. He noticed the stark difference between his dry bread and the rich, crumbling rolls with butter, mayonnaise, and ham that the children of party officials had. He began by taking a roll, eating half, and telling the boy to bring two the next day or lose his lunch entirely. The boy complied, and Dzieran began eating well. He even told his mother he didn't need bread anymore. He also noticed other poor kids hiding their dry bread in shame and, in one case, befriended and protected a boy he had previously bullied after discovering the boy's even more desperate poverty.

A boy nicknamed 'Byku' (Bull), who was a head and a half taller than Dzieran's brother, beat him badly. Despite being sick, Dzieran got dressed, went to school, and knocked the bully out so severely that he fell down a flight of stairs and was unconscious. The bully's parents later came to his house to demand something, but Dzieran was too young to understand what. The result was that the bully never bothered his brother or anyone else again, walking around with a bandaged eye and head but completely pacified. This is another data point for Dzieran's 'violence works' principle.

Dzieran clarifies that the physical and mental pressure in BUD/S is so intense that the human body begins to break down. Injuries like fractures, shin splints, bone damage, and infections are extremely common. Younger candidates, up to around age 28, can heal from these injuries relatively quickly. As you get older, the healing process slows down, making it much harder to continue training after an injury. This is why the limit is rarely waived. He notes that this became much clearer to him later in his career when he became a BUD/S instructor himself.

Dzieran explains that many people on the outside don't realize that a large percentage of candidates who drop out do so because of injuries—broken legs, shin splints, bone damage, or serious infections. Their immune systems become compromised, and many develop lung problems. These individuals would often continue training if they could, but they are removed because their bodies are no longer capable of passing the medical checks. He estimates that perhaps 40% voluntarily quit, while the rest are medically dropped. This is a critical distinction because it highlights that physical preparation and durability are just as important as mental resilience.

Dzieran explains that terrorists would routinely use women and children as human shields, placing them directly behind doors before a breach. They would physically hide behind the bodies of women or hold children in front of them. The most extreme example was finding a cradle with a live, sleeping infant. Grenades were attached to the cradle. If a SEAL had approached and pulled back the blanket, the entire room would have been destroyed. Dzieran states this was not an extraordinary event; these people had no conscience or scruples about murdering and torturing their enemies in the most horrific ways imaginable.

The plan was to breach a set of heavy steel and oak doors. Dzieran, as the breacher, prepared charges but realized the steel gate was missing. He switched to a smaller charge to avoid killing everyone inside. As he placed the charge, the general put his ear to the door and was still holding the handle when it was blown. Upon hearing the GROM operators speaking Polish, the general immediately started shouting in perfect Polish, claiming he had contacts in Warsaw and offering to pay them to help him escape the Americans. Dzieran later found a photo of the general standing with Polish officers from the PRL era in front of the Palace of Culture and Science in Warsaw, confirming he had learned to fly MiGs in Poland.

Dzieran explains that the cooperation with GROM was never a one-way exchange of knowledge. They learned from each other. This mutual respect and the resulting friendships would never have formed if GROM's training wasn't on par with the SEALs'. The trust was so high that they would exchange operators; if the SEALs needed more men, they would take a few GROM operators, and vice versa. They planned and executed missions together. Dzieran admits he didn't know what GROM was before being sent to establish contacts, and he was deeply impressed by their training, an impression that remains to this day.

After his father left, Dzieran was often beaten by older boys. He quickly learned that a metal pipe in his schoolbag was an effective deterrent. This experience taught him a fundamental lesson: violence works. He internalized the corollary that if violence doesn't work, it's because you haven't applied enough of it. This was a key survival lesson from the streets that he carried with him. He later applied this principle in his martial arts training and even in his SEAL career, using it to emphasize his point of view and persuade teammates, which contributed to his nickname 'Drago'.