Donald J. Trump

of the British Empire, on September 11, 1992, while still attending a small high school in Lumberton, North Carolina, a young, skinny runt joined the ranks of the world's greatest Navy.

Despite his small size, he had big dreams.

His name was Jason Redman.

I wanted to join the ranks of the U.S.

Navy SEALs, and like all of you here, I chose to sacrifice my future to serve our great nation.

I would attend ISA school right here in Virginia Beach, and on December 15th, 1995, I achieved my dream and Seaman Apprentice Redman graduated from Navy SEAL Training BUDS Class 202.

Stop making fun of me, all of you who weren't born FNGs.

I would go on to have an amazing career, three deployments to South America.

I would be shot at for the first time conducting counter-drug operations in Colombia.

We broke into NASA, and I remember surfacing from a four-hour dive through the mangrove swamps off Cape Canaveral, only to find ourselves surrounded by alligators.

I won't lie, I had to wash out my wetsuit after that one.

I became a SEAL training instructor and made it to Petty Officer First Class before I was recommended to earn a commission.

I would attend Old Dominion University, ROTC, right down the street here.

I am sure, just like many of you sitting in this audience.

While at school, 9-11 happened.

I remember watching the towers fall, standing next to my best friend and fellow SEAL, Bobby Ramirez.

We looked at each other and acknowledged, we are going to war.

Bobby and I would get our commissions together, and over the next decade, I would have the honor to serve alongside some of the legends of the 9-11 generation.

I mourned as we lost so many teammates on June 28, 2005, when our helicopter was shot down in Afghanistan, and Marcus Luttrell would be the lone survivor.

I was honored to have served as an ops officer for the Captain Phillips mission.