3.5 stars, rounded up for being a true story.
I picked up this book after seeing a story online about Brett, along with his husband (a former police detective) and their son, making a life together in Alabama. Brett became a SEAL during Don't-Ask-Don't-Tell, and I was interested in his story.
The book is a little dry, very much telling and not showing. Brett's childhood was fragmented and lacking in consistent role models, as the family followed his father to postings around the world. He paints a picture of himself as very hyperactive and oppositional, a wild kid who had trouble controlling his emotions and following rules. His father was gone a lot, and his mom couldn't cope with him, resulting in more than one boarding/correctional school situation. Somehow Brett came through his teen years, to the point of joining the Navy, with the goal of becoming a SEAL. It was a goal which he did achieve, although it took everything he had to get there.
There is only the undercurrent, really, of how being gay impacted Brett's teen years and Navy career. He mentions bits and pieces, but not with much emotion behind it. Part of that probably is his character, which seems unemotional and stoic; part is because clearly being gay was almost irrelevant in the most intense moments of his life - BUD-S training and becoming a SEAL. When you get 2 hours of sleep a night, under extreme training conditions of cold, fatigue and pain, nothing matters much except getting through to the other side. The descriptions of his training, the intensity and pride he felt in getting through it, is the most solid part of the book. His later romantic relationship with a Navy guy, which resulted in his accidental outing, receives a tiny fraction of the page time that training does.
This book does, toward the end, reflect the crazy irrationality of wasting lives, training, time and effort in the persecution of gays in the military. Fortunately those DADT days are gone. Although in one interesting line, Brett says he doesn't envy the men who now have to be out role models, as gay men in the military. His implication is that, for all the risks, the closet was perhaps easier. This is a fairly short and easy read, although what I brought out of it was more a combination of amazement that he survived his childhood intact, and a complete picture of BUD-S training, than a real empathy with what being gay in the Navy felt like.