No private quarters. No private showers. Scott is a good director in many modalities. His hole card is sensory overload, and he really slaps it on the table. As a visual and aural equivalent of what O'Neil and her fellow trainees are undergoing, Scott goes for spatial disorientation.
Nothing stops the training, which seems to continue through a hurricane.
A Navy doctor is usually on hand to see whether trainees can go on. One wonders where reality ends and artistic license begins. The question looms large enough to set off some small credulity issues. The sequence in which trainers play the enemy, capture trainees and subject them to torture is horrific. The film is very well executed.