I'll Be Your Drill, Soldier!
Page 11
At the bus station Connelly dropped them off. He grinned at them all. Then he surprised the shit out of both Ryan and Brendon by leaning down, whispering into Patrick's ear. When Patrick turned around he was blushing.
“Dude!”
“You did not!”
Both Ryan and Brendon didn't quite know what to say.
“First off, don't dude me, Ryan…you were walking awfully funny this morning for a reason.” He turned to Brendon, who was doing his best impression of a goldfish. “Brendon, don't think about it. You'll just melt your brain.”
The bus pulled up and all three got on. Ryan was kinda bummed that Phillip hadn't come, but he didn't think he would. He looked out the window and sighed.
That’s when he saw him. Phillip was standing in civvies, with a tight, white shirt that proclaimed him a ‘Cav Trooper’ and tight jeans with cowboy boots on. Their eyes met and for a split second Ryan thought about jumping off the bus.
Phillip smiled softly and raised his hand in a mock salute.
Ryan smiled and raised his hand.
That was it. No more. No Less. Basic training was officially over.
Chapter Eight
25 June 02
Ryan,
Hey bud. I'm over in the suck now. I can't believe it's been over a year already. The unit I'm assigned to are a bunch of jack-offs. I wished they would have had Grabowski as a Drill. Maybe they'd get that this shit is serious. Anyways it was good seeing you and Patrick last month. Nice send off. I hear Brendon is kicking ass and taking names. Who would have thought that the kid had it in him?
Kenneth
PS did you know that Patrick and Connelly were going at it like bunnies all through BCT?
***
26 June 02
Kenneth,
Good to hear from you man. We're at NTC now. Got our orders to head over in a few months. I guess I got lucky on the unit part. These guys are pretty squared away. I ran into a guy who had Grabowski. He didn't have a favorable opinion of the man but he's a fuck up so most likely Grabowski rode him hard.
I heard from Brendon last week. He loves Korea. I fucking hated it. I think we all knew he was going to be good at this stuff. He's goofy but he was always a team player.
What the hell? Dude, they were fucking? I'm going to kill Patrick.
Ryan.
***
5 July 2002
Patrick,
Fucker! How in the hell did you and Connelly do it?
Ryan
***
7 July 2002
Ryan,
Nice to hear from you too! It's all about keeping sex away from the job. You're just pissed off because it took Grabowski eight fucking weeks to get into your pants. Mark and I started during the third week.
Patrick.
***
9 July 2002
Patrick,
You suck ass.
Ryan.
***
9 July 2002
Ryan,
Dude, if that's what you think pleases a man like Grabowski no wonder it was a onetime deal.
Patrick (who got laid more in BCT than you did!)
***
20 Aug 2002
Ryan, Patrick, and Kenneth,
WTF? Seriously. Was everyone except me having sex in BCT?
Brendon
***
21 Aug 2002
Brendon,
Nope. Kenneth didn't have sex either and his palm doesn't count.
Ryan
***
22 Aug 2002
Everyone,
Fuck y'all. Rosey and her girls fucking rocked it out in basic.
Kenneth
***
23 Aug 2002
Everyone,
Did you guys hear? Brodrick was killed.
Brendon
***
23 Aug 2002
Brendon,
When? Where?
Ryan
***
24 Aug 2002
Everyone,
Last week in Baghdad. Fuckers. I hope they got the bastards.
Brendon
***
27 Aug 2002
Everyone,
Anyone know where he's from?
Patrick
***
28 Aug 2002
Everyone,
California. He just got married too. I hate this fucking war.
Kenneth
***
30 Aug 2002
Everyone,
Sent flowers to his funeral from us. Seems stupid as fuck to do that.
Patrick
PS Anyone hear from Ryan?
***
01 Sept 2002
Patrick,
I did. He called and said he was headed over. In Kuwait by now. He tried calling you. No answer.
Brendon
***
05 Oct 2002
Hey Guys,
I'm here. Everything is good. Went out with my BC and we ate Haji food. Don't do it. Not even if someone in higher rank orders you. I haven't been able to walk two steps without shitting. I fucking hate it here.
Ryan
***
02 Feb 2004
Hey guys,
I'm getting out. Two tours and I'm done. I never want to see blood again. Ever.
Kenneth
***
22 Feb 2004
Kenneth,
Don't blame you man. I've been giving some serious thought to it myself. If I do another fifteen-month tour I may just decide to get the fuck out. Good to know your home though.
Ryan
***
02 March 2004
Hey guys,
Made it here. This place is the most godforsaken place I’ve ever been in.
Brendon
***
03 March 2004
Furry,
Keep your head down and ears open.
Grabowski
***
04 March 2004
Hey guys,
Y'all will never guess who I got an email from.
Brendon
***
04 March 2004
Brandon,
Grabowski.
Ryan
***
05 March 2004
Brandon,
Grabowski
Patrick
***
05 March 2004
Brandon,
Grabowski
Kenneth
***
12 March 2004
Everyone,
How did you guys know?
Brendon
***
13 March 2004
Brandon,
Second day in country he emailed me. Never answered an email though.
Ryan
***
25 May 2004
Everyone,
Patrick got hit today. He's okay. Just grazed.
Kenneth
***
26 May 2004
Patrick,
You okay? I heard you got hit. Let us know.
Ryan
***
27 May 2004
Ryan,
I'm fine. Like Rosey said Just a graze. Fucker couldn't hit the broad side of a barn. My BC nailed his ass to the wall.
Patrick
***
10 June 2005
Guys,
Heading back over with the Tenth. I'll email when I'm in country.
Ryan.
***
11 Nov 2005
Freckles,
I know you probably hate that name, but I kinda got attached to it. Anyways I heard through the grapevine that y'all lost your first buddy. It's hard and it sucks but keep on soldiering on. Don't let that get you down, otherwise you could be next.
Drill Sergeant Grabowski.
***
15 Nov 2005
Drill Sergeant Grabowski,
Thanks for the note. It actually helped out a lot and I hate to have to admit that.
Freckles or as I like to be addressed now,
Sgt. Ryan Gracin.
***
25 Nov 2005
SGT Freckles,
I like Freckles. It has a nice ring to it.
DRILL Sergeant Grabowski. (Or as I'm called now “the fuck up who is now an E5 again.”)
***
26 Nov 2005
“The Fuck Up”
Dude! How did you lose a rank in five years? Aren't you supposed to gain rank?
SGT Gracin.
***
11 Dec 2005
Sgt. Freckles Gracin
Fucking pogue, just out of ROTC snot-nosed little fuck of an officer tried to make my men leave the chow hall after a twenty-four hour QRF. It was a bad day. I didn't react well.
Forever YOUR Drill Sergeant Grabowski
***
24 Dec 2005
Phillip (we're the same rank get over it.)
Did you clock the bastard good? I fucking hate those butterbars. They piss me the fuck off. They should have pinned a fucking medal on your chest. I bet the bastard got a purple heart for the ass-kicking he got.
Sgt. Gracin
***
01 Jan 2006
Sgt Freckles,
Yeah, pissed me off too but I'm outta here in three days and a wake-up. Catch you on the flip side.
Keep your head and ass down. If you do get shot do it in the head. An ass that good shouldn't get fucked up.
Phillip.
***
09 Jan 2006
Phillip,
You're home now. It's good. Have a beer for me.
Ryan.
***
Ryan loved Fort Hood. The weather rocked mostly and it was a damn sight better than Iraq. He pulled his pick-up truck into the parking spot outside of the main PX. He had been pleasantly surprised to see Patrick had already been there.
It had been a minor miracle that had them both stationed at Hood. Ryan was very thankful for it though. Patrick had two tours under his belt and Ryan was working on his third. It had been crazy since basic, some five years ago.
Brendon was still kicking it up over at Fort Lewis. Ryan kinda missed the kid. They hadn't seen each other since before Ryan shipped to the freaking box. It had been good to get home after fifteen months.
Kenneth had gotten out a few years back. The stress of being a combat medic got to him, not that Ryan blamed him. Some days he thought it would be a good time for him to get out.
He grabbed the black Stetson on the seat beside him, and pulled it low on his head. The gold braid band was sitting in its spot.
“Ryan, you just like wearing the hat and spurs because it makes you look like a cowboy.” His best friend Patrick laughed, as he pulled in next to Ryan on his motorcycle.
“Yeah, cause the ACU digi pattern is what all the cool cowboys are wearing this year,” Ryan replied dryly.
“Holy shit! Freckles, aren't you just a sight for sore eyes.”
Ryan would know that voice from anywhere. It's the only voice that made a cold sweat break out on his skin. He turned slowly and blinked. Sitting behind the biggest fucking black truck he had ever seen was none other than Drill Sergeant Phillip Grabowski.
Ryan considered himself a good, proper soldier. He had great military bearing and he damn sure wasn't a green FNG. But seeing the Drill Sergeant again made him want to stand at ‘parade rest.’ “Drill Sergeant Grabowski,” he said, by way of greeting. He felt like ramming his head into his truck. He felt like such a dork.
“Keep that up, Sergeant.” Grabowski slurred the words out, making them sound a helluva lot dirtier than they were. “Freckles, I might think you liked me dominating the hell out of you.”
Patrick was biting his lip to keep from laughing. He cleared his throat. “So, Drill Sergeant Grabowski, you making a statement with that truck of yours? Over compensating for somethin’?”
Ryan could kill Patrick and probably get away with it. Damn combat stress anyhow.
“I dunno, maybe you should ask your buddy,” Phillip said, laughing.
Ryan sighed. This was why he refused to buy a lottery ticket. His luck sucked. That could only explain why Drill Sergeant Fucking Grabowski would be at Hood at the same fucking time as him. “It wasn't anything to write home to momma about,” he muttered.
“Dude!” Patrick's eyebrow raised and he burst into laughter. “You walked like a fucking duck all day.”
“You know, Patrick, they say that combat stress sometimes takes a while to manifest. I been home for like six months now and I'm starting to feel stressed.” Ryan spoke offhandedly.
“You know what your problem is?” When Ryan didn't answer Grabowski finished anyway. “You don't get laid enough.”
Patrick laughed so hard Ryan thought he was going to fall off his motorcycle. “I keep telling him that but you know our Ryan. He's waiting on his prince to come.”
“You both can kiss my ass. I have an hour lunch and would like to eat if y'all don't mind.” Ryan left both men there. He heard Phillip's truck roar into a parking spot he would have sworn was too small to fit that huge-assed truck into, then two sets of feet pounding behind him.