Soldiers in Heat: Training Session
by
Joanna A. Haze
Smashwords Ebook Edition
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
Passionate Writer Publishing
www.passionatewriterpublishing.com
Soldiers in Heat: Training Session
Copyright © 2012 by Joanna A. Haze.
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to the retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
*****
Books by This Author
The Missing Piece
Coming Soon
Soldiers in Heat: Desert Love
Soldiers in Heat: Bootcamp Bliss
Naughty by Nature: Mr. Right.com
Vegas
*****
Dedication
To my fellow Vets past and present, we share a bond like no other. I thank you for the memories.
Chapter One
Kimberly Woodson’s hands stung as she strained to pull herself up on the pull-up bar. What had she gotten herself into this time?
The last conversation she had with her husband flashed through her mind.
“Officer Training is a tough school. There’s no way someone like you can make it through,” he said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re weak. You sit in an office all day and now you think you can lead troops?” He crossed his arms and leaned against their bedroom wall.
His words stung. If she didn’t have to return to the house for some of her belongings she wouldn’t have. Kimberly finished packing her bag and headed out the door.
She dropped down from the pull-up bar and took her position in parade rest on the steps leading into the dining facility. Most still called it a chow hall, but as an Officer Candidate, she dared not utter the word.
“Next three,” her Student Platoon Sergeant said, poking his head out the door of the dining facility.
“One,” the male in front of her said.
“Two,” she called out.
“Three,” the male behind her said.
They went in, grabbed their trays and silverware, and stood in line for food. The chow hall resembled a foot buffet but with slim pickings. Given the choice between meatloaf and baked chicken, she opted for the chicken. Moving along, she grabbed two cups off the premade drink table.
Hands stinging from her fresh blisters and body sore from the morning physical fitness test, she made her way to an empty spot at a table. The room could fit a capacity of one hundred fifty soldiers at a time. Kimberly noticed the unit banners hanging on the walls along with the painted infantry murals. The Cadre sat at one long table overlooking the student seating. She avoided looking in their direction and moved forward.
The square, four seated tables were stacked back to back leaving just enough room for her to slide by.
“Good job, Woodson,” the male at the end said. He looked slightly on the heavy side, but if he was still there, it meant he passed height and weight.
She read his name tag. “Thanks, Peterson.”
“I saw you on the run. You were the first female to finish, and you beat a lot of males, including me. You passed me up on the backstretch.”
“Aye, there, Candidate, you gone get out the pom pom’s and cheer for her? There’s no talking. Eat your food and get out,” Staff Sergeant Isome said.
It was only her second day of training, and she learned quickly who the hard asses were. Staff Sergeant Isome, the First Platoon Cadrewas number one on the list. Thankfully, Kimberely resided in Second Platoon and didn’t have to endure him all day long. Sergeant First Class Lopez and Captain Brown were her trainers. They were hard but paled in comparison to Staff Sergeant Isome.
Kimberly chewed the rest of her food and downed her drinks. She picked up her tray, stacked it on the rack, placed the silver way in the return tray, and made her way to the door. On the other side was another bar. This time she had to do chin ups. She completed three and jumped down.
Now she had two options: run the six hundred yards back to Delta Company barracks or wait for two others to come out and march back. She looked at her watch. Running would give her an extra minute of shower time. She took off in a jog and ran back to the building. Her body cried out in pain from the physical exertion. Kimberly was no slacker when it came to fitness but OCS was a different monster—she may has well just finished a triathlon.
Once inside the building, she made her way to the room she shared with two other females. A bunk bed, a single bed, three wall lockers and three hutches were squeezed inside the dorm sized room. She grabbed her shower gear, Army Combat Uniform (ACU) pants, tan t-shirt, and underwear and made her way down the hall to the female latrine. One side had six stalls and the other three showers to be shared by thirty girls. After the physical fitness test, she was sure the number would be lower.
The showers were already taken. Kimberly stripped down and took her place in line behind another black female. She gave her the nod for making it past the physical fitness test. A shower freed up, and the girl went in. Kimberly ran her hands through the micro braids she wore. She was thankful she was smart and had them put in. If not, her hair would have been all over her head like the other girl.
Unlike the white candidate who stepped out the shower, she didn’t have wash and go hair. It took hours to get hers back right after sweating or any water got on it. Her grade was naturally, curly and though it was past her shoulders, it would have drawn up into an afro if not for the braids—and afros were not part of the Army Regulation for female hairstyles. In fact, most of the hairstyles black women wore weren’t.
Another female stepped out, and Kimberly took the available shower. In less than three minutes, she’d lathered up and rinsed off. When she opened the door she noticed the room was full. She found a spot to dry off and put on her clothes. Being able to walk from her shower straight into her room were one of the comforts of home she missed.
“Glad to see you made it,” a brunette female said to her.
The female stood in the mirror, combing out her hair, loose strands falling. Kimberly refrained from frowning though she knew in less than ten minutes, it would be a high probability she’d be the one cleaning them up. She and her roommates had latrine duty.
“Thanks. What’s your name?”
“Andrews. I just finished bootcamp,” she said.
Rank didn’t matter but most of the prior enlisted soldiers had issues with the ROTC officer candidates due to their lack of knowledge. Kimberly decided to give the girl a chance b
efore passing judgment. She too had been new to the Army at one point in time.
“Glad to see you’re still here as well, Andrews.”
“Barely. I passed the run by four seconds,” she said.
Kimberly looked at her, confused as to how someone who just finished basic training barely passed the physical fitness test. Had it changed that much since she’d been?
She made it back to her room and noticed several missed calls from her husband, Charles. The thought of speaking to him made her stomach turn. She was doubtful he was calling to congratulate her on making it through the first round. It was more likely to give her more insults. She shook the thought out her head and finished getting dressed in preparation for what the rest of the day was to bring. It was only 0715 hours.
Chapter Two
Jonathan Carlson moved to the side and let the female who came out the latrine walk past. He’d finished his shower and was now sweeping the hall as part of his assigned detail. She smiled at him. Jonathan noticed it was the female who was on his heels during the run. He had no intention in running the time he did, but there had been no way he was letting her beat him.
Prior to coming to officer training, he’d been a drill sergeant. He’d spent the last three years training soldiers. Until two months ago, he hadn’t thought of ever becoming an officer. When his First Sergeant suggested it, he took heed. There was an investigation going on, and he needed to steer clear of it.
As the female passed another candidate, she congratulated them. She looked back at Jonathan and smiled before stepping out the hallway. Her smile was amazing.
He finished up and went back into his room. His roommate, Kang, was dusting.
“I’m not your maid. Get the top of the wall locker,” Kang said, tossing a rag at him.
“Thank goodness because I’d have to fire your ugly ass.” He laughed.
“Seriously, man, glad you’re still here.”
“Ditto.” Jonathan stepped up on the chair so he could reach the top of the locker and started knocking the dust bunnies to the floor. “Man, you cannot tell me someone doesn’t come through with a bucket of these things and spread them throughout our room. This was just cleaned yesterday.”
“They import it just for us.”
“Hell, everything else is so why not?” He shook his head and stepped down off the chair. “Now I have to sweep the floor again.”
“Formation in five minutes!” someone yelled at the end of the hall. It was repeated at least a dozen times by others to ensure everyone heard.
“What’s on the schedule for today?” Kang asked.
“Shit, I’m a soldier; I follow orders unless in charge.” He grabbed his button down top to his ACU’s and put it on, along with his black ascot. He’d rather wear a tie than an ascot. They served no purpose other than showing what phase a candidate was in and almost choked the life out of him.
“Beret or soft cap?”
“Dammit, Kang, beret, but put the soft cap in your pocket just in case.”
They turned off the light. Once outside, they ran around to the back of the building and formed up with second platoon. He was in fourth squad, while Kang was in third. The speedy female was now in his squad. With them losing three candidates from their platoon, the adjustment needed to be made to even them out.
He started to congratulate her when the company commander came out the back door. The student commander ran over to get his instructions and called the other student leaders over to him. They relayed the message.
“Platoon…attention,” the Student Platoon Sergeant said.
They snapped to attention.
“Parade…rest.”
They placed their arms at a forty-five degree angle behind their backs.
“Today we’ll be getting our welcome briefing from the Battalion Commander. If you get tired, make sure you stand up. The Battalion Commander is known to be long winded,” he said.
It had to be a sick joke of the Army to put people in class rooms after going all out during physical training. Jonathan laughed to himself at being on the receiving end. As a drill instructor, he’d done it and placed bets on which private would nod off first.
The Student Sergeant Major called all platoons to attention, and they marched across their section of the base to another building. With precision, they filed in and took their positon in front of their seats.
As he stood waiting on permission to take his seat, he noticed the same female next to him and took in her vanilla sent. He wasn’t sure if it was her body spray or lotion, but it smelled good. It was much better than the musty smell coming off most of the other males’ uniforms. Uniforms were not designed to handle a bunch of washing. Five to seven uniforms every three months would get expensive, so he’d learned to use fabric spray years prior.
He and the other candidates remained at the position of attention until the Battalion Commander came in.
“At ease. Take a seat,” he said.
The Battalion Commander had deep age lines with grayish teeth, and his entire head was silver. From the looks of him, Jonathan knew for sure he was a Vietnam Vet, maybe even the Korean War as well. The years hadn’t been good to him. That wasn’t to say he wasn’t in tip top shape though.
As soon as the Battalion Commander started talking, Jonathan zoned out. From his twelve years of service, he knew there was nothing he’d be missing. He occupied his mind by doodling on a page in his pocket-sized notebook. He noticed the female next to him looking. Jonathan read her name tag. Writing, “great job, Woodson” on the paper, he slid it towards her. The corner of her lip turned up. He knew it was the best he’d get while they were in the company of others. She held her military bearing.
An hour later, they were given a fifteen minute break before the Chaplin had his moment to speak. He followed Woodson outside for some fresh air. At 0900 hours, the temperature at Fort Benning, Georgia was already starting to heat up. They moved along with the others to the shade of the building.
“What’s your story, Woodson?” he asked.
“Staff Sergeant. Personnel. Ten years.”
“Oh, so you’re not a newbie.” He smiled.
“Nope. Your turn.” She leaned up against the wall, propping her foot up for support.
“Drill Sergeant. Sergeant First Class. Twelve years.”
“Drill Sergeant?” She laughed. “How does that work? This must really suck for you.”
“Ironic. It could be worse though. I could be like Fortier over there.” He pointed to a tall dark-haired male. “He’s here with someone he just trained in bootcamp.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, so I’m okay. Another day in the life of a soldier for me. Our times up.” He held out his hand for her to walk ahead of him, and they headed back in the building.
Jonathan enjoyed speaking with her. She smiled when she spoke and didn’t seem standoffish like the rest of the females. He’d noticed the other black candidates had grouped off and stood away from everyone else talking and was glad she didn’t join them. Grouping off by race was something he never understood.
The rest of the day was more of the same. They listened to all the battalion leadership speak. By the end, he wanted to take toothpicks and prop his eyelids open.
Chapter Three
Kimberly’s arms shook as she climbed the inverted tower. Her body was going into muscle fatigue. Had she not just finished the fifty-foot tower with the descending rope, buddy-assisted rope, and tower, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt as bad. She wrapped her arms around the wood and pulled herself up to the last rung.
“Head to the red, Candidate Woodson!” one of the instructors screamed.
Crap! She was facing the wrong way. The thought of having to go back down a level and up again was enough to make her want to let go and fall to the mats below. She took a deep breath and listened to the others in her squad cheering her on. Giving up was not an option.
Kimberly went back down and came up the right way. Using all
her might, she lay flat at the top and flipped herself over to the other side.
“Good job, Candidate,” Captain Brown said.
“Thank you, sir.”
She bent over, placing her hands on her thighs in an effort to catch her breath as the rest of her squad made it over. Several of the candidates were trying and failing at the obstacle course. If you didn’t make it after a third attempt, the instructors stopped you and made you wait on the side. Though this wasn’t a pass or fail portion that would get you removed from the class, it was one that would affect your rankings in the class. Everything they did earned points.
“You’re kicking butt out here,” Zimmerman, one of the other females in her platoon, said. She failed the obstacle and was waiting on the side for her squad to start the next one.
“It ain’t easy. My arms feel like they are about to fall off.”
“Yours and everyone else.”
Her squad finished up the obstacle, and they jogged as a unit to the last station, this one about balance, not strength. All she and her squad had to do was roll their way over logs. The trick was to work together. If not, someone would fall off and the logs would separate. When it was her turn, she, Carlson, and another male in their squad went.
She was glad Carlson got on the logs next to her. He’d been cheering her on the entire time and it motivated her. He was friendly and easy to talk to—quite the opposite of how drill sergeants are normally perceived.
His body brushed against hers as they worked their way across. Their connection caused her heart rate to increase. Kimberly lost focus and she almost fell off. Carlson wrapped his arm around her, adjusting her.
She nodded, letting him know she was okay to continue.
The logs hurt like hell against her body. They mashed against her from one end to the other. When she reached the finish, she was thankful Carlson reached back, pulling her over. She had no more energy. All she wanted to do was to take the Army cure for everything—Motrin—and lay down. No chance in that. They still had to form up and run, in boots and gear, back to the barracks.
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