by Unknown
“Your training day begins at oh-four-hundred, and will conclude at eighteen hundred. That’s four in the morning, and six in the evening for you thick-headed turds. In between training
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revolutions, you will be expected to clean this bay, and have your crap on-the-square.
“We will start out with P.T., then breakfast. Morning run, then the scheduled instruction of the day. Lunch. P.T. Further training. Dinner concludes your training day. This will be your life for the next nine weeks.”
Bri looked at his wristwatch.
“Today will run long for orientation. Tomorrow will taken up by your dental, medical, and physical screening. You will be issued your basic gear, and then be introduced to your senior drill instructor. Training Day One will begin the day after that”
The sergeant thrust a clawed finger at the recruits nearest to him, “You two. There’s a linen closet down that back hall, across from the D.I’s office. Start pulling sheets and pillows, and dropping them on every rack. Move it!”
As those two hurried to comply, Bri went back to his talk. It was nice to hear his voice in a non-shouting mode.
“After I teach you turds how to properly make a rack, and fold your crap, you’ll have some free time before lights-out at twenty-one hundred. Once taps sounds, you’d better have your butts under the sheets. I will post a fire watch schedule next to the Head, on your company bulletin board. You turds will be standing two-hour duty in turns. Now pay attention to this!”
He pointed at the first person in the row, “As I said earlier, fifty of you make a platoon. Two platoons a company. Every ten of you constitute a squad. Your names will be listed on the board in squad assignments. Alpha Squad, First Platoon draws first watches, and on down the line per day. You’ll be briefed on watch duties as you report for your first one.”
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The sheets and pillows were getting delivered by then, so Bri walked over to the last racks in the bay, taking one.
“You turds gather around, and watch how I do this…”
It was a quarter past eight in the evening before Bri finished teaching them how to make a bunk the Marine Corps way, with the tight hospital corners, and dollar bill-sized fold at the pillow. The blanket literally so tight that a coin could be bounced off of it. It had taken practice, but the kids had a fair mastery of it by the time he called it a night, and retired to his quarters behind the D.I’s office.
With only forty-five minutes before taps, Minerva and Ecu accompanied one another to the commissary, where the phone center was located. There were thirty booths, and all were busy, so they had to wait. Fortunately, it did not take long, and Minerva found out why once she was able to get into one. A sign informed her that all calls, whether Attayan local, or Anderson Distance to Earth, were limited to two minutes.
She was so turned-around by her trip that Minerva had no idea what the time differential might be, but regardless, the need to hear her parents’ voices made her call inevitable. There was a five-digit planet code to enter before her normal area code and number. A hollow sound greeted her ear as the beam traversed the fold of Anderson space, reaching the Lunar Array, and then boosted from there to Earth’s receivers. Finally, the line began to ring.
On the fourth buzz, it was answered.
“Hello?”
The sound of her mother’s voice brought Minerva to instant tears. It unlocked the ache of homesickness that she had been
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swallowing off and on since leaving. By the grace of God, though, she managed to hold her sob in check, so that her mom didn’t hear it.
“Hi, mom.” Her voice even sounded in control, upbeat.
“Baby!” Her mother squealed in Spanish. “How are you?”
“I’m okay, mom. We’re on Attaya, now. I’ve even made some friends already.”
Her mom was not so controlled, and blubbered through her tears, “Oh, baby, I miss you so much! You be careful!”
Minerva swallowed a lump in her throat, wiping silent tears from her cheeks, “I will, mom, I promise. Is pappy there? I only have a minute left to talk.”
“He’s at work, baby. It’s just after lunch here.”
“Oh, okay, mom. Tell him I love him, and that I’m alright. I’ll write to you when I can.”
“We love you, too, ba…”
The line disconnected as the timer sounded, leaving Minerva holding a dead receiver. The sobs couldn’t be held any longer, and she cried briefly into her hand. She questioned her decision right then. Had it been a mistake to leave home so soon? Was it really so important to grab at the college fund the Corps was offering?
Ironically, it was the memory of meeting Mark that helped to ground her again.
This was her chance to prove herself an adult. To reach for the stars, and someday return home holding her head high. A Marine. A young woman. There was also this new, and exciting thrill of her first possible romance. Yes, she knew that her decisions had been well thought out. This was something that she could do.
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A sharp rap on the booth door jolted her back to reality.
“You ready, girl?” Ecu was munching on another bag of black licorice beans.
With a sniffle, Minerva replaced the receiver, and opened the booth door, wearing a smile that was mostly genuine. The girls left the store, and leisurely strolled the avenue of the company area in silence. There were fireflies blinking in the shadows among the shrubs beneath the street lamps. The humid air was beginning to cool after the day’s scorching heat. The stars above twinkled brightly, but their layout was dramatically different from back home. It was particularly fascinating for Minerva to see not one, but two moons up there. The primary one seemed about the same distance and size as Luna, hanging about three-quarters full. The other, smaller and further out, was full. The visible star field had much more color than Earth’s view. A cluster of reds up high, and another with a greenish tint toward the horizon.
As the girls passed the barracks of senior companies, their flags planted in the holders next to the entrances, they were treated to a tranquil scene that might have been transplanted from any average neighborhood. Doors and windows thrown open for fresh air. The sounds of talking and laughter from within. A few of the older kids were sitting on the stoop of their bay, passing a SafeSmoke back and forth. Crickets sang incessantly.
At their own squad bay, the girls decided to sit on their own stoop, and enjoy the quiet of the night.
“I wonder what Mark is doing right now,” Minerva said as she stole a few candies from her new friend.
Ecu giggled, “Is this puppy love I smell in the air?”
“Shut up.”
More laughter, “I can just picture the two of you,” Ecu
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teased, “walking hand-in-hand, grinning at each other with black licorice stuck on your teeth.”
Minerva snorted, smacking her on the arm. It felt good to laugh. It restored more of her sense of self control. She felt confident that she really would be alright.
“Ah, well.” Ecu stood, scratching at her furry, pointed ears, “It’s almost taps, and I need a shower before lights-out.”
“Yeah,” Minerva agreed. She was salty and sticky, and stank like a racehorse. There was also the fact that there would be precious little sleep before the next day began. Another day of uncertainty.
Sleep had come surprisingly easy despite the anxieties of being away from home for the first time. Aching muscles welcomed the healing escape of slumber. The squad bay was dark, save for the soft, red glow of the one fire lamp mounted above the exit doors. The sounds of snoring, and the occasional fart mixed the toss and turn of bodies on worn bed springs. The recruit standing fire watch leaned against the wall near the front entrance, bored, trying to keep heavy eyelids from closing.
That struggle was conquered by the door being flung open without warning, and slamming against its hinges. Sergeant Bri stomped in, flicking on the bank of light switches, a
nd yelling at the top of his lungs.
“On the line, turds! Let’s go! Let’s go!”
Having the top bunk, Minerva was treated to the florescent bulbs blazing in her eyes. For an instant, she could not remember where she was, but memory very quickly reasserted itself when Bri
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grabbed one of her feet, and gave a yank, half-pulling her over the side.
“Out of that rack, recruit! You aren’t in your momma’s house anymore!”
He was already harassing someone else by the time her feet touched the cold tile floor. The kids assembled in front of their bunks at attention, clad only on shorts and undershirts. They shivered as much from the cold as from adrenaline. The A/C must have been cranked as far as it would go, it felt so cold. The need to pee was another torture for the bleary-eyed youths as they tried valiantly to stand still.
“Good morning, turds!” Bri shouted with a smirk. “You have five whole minutes to shave, shower, and shine! Be back on my line in your P.T gear on time, or there’ll be the devil to pay! Fall out!”
The madness in the showers was compounded by the fact that the teens had yet to grasp the concept of teamwork, and organization. There was pandemonium as people jostled one another to get under a shower head, to brush their teeth at a sink, to shave peach fuzz from cheeks that weren’t yet even ready to see a razor let alone touch one.
Sergeant Bri was blowing his whistle in what seemed only a moment, signaling that their time was up. More than half of the kids were slipping and sliding out to the line still wet, with only a towel to cover themselves. The Attayans’ fur was a fright, as was many of the chopped hairdos of the Terran girls. Bri was actually stifling a grin at what he saw.
“You turds are lucky there’s no inspection this morning. What a sight!”
He sighed, and turned toward the doors, “Finish drying off, get into your P.T. gear, and fall out for formation. Move it!”
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Formation turned out to be being marched to a large concrete pad that Bri referred to as ‘The Grinder.’ There, they warmed up with 8-count body-builders that were a painful combination of various exercises that counted for a set of one for every eight. Ten minutes of that was followed by their first run. That turned out to be not so bad, nothing more than a jog around the Grinder at a slow pace. Minerva was actually feeling rather limbered up when they finished, her stiff muscles loosened.
They went to the chow hall from there, and then on to the medical center. The day was filled with the whine of dental drills, being poked and prodded by stone-faced doctors, and the sharp pain of inoculations.
After lunch, it was back to the induction center, this time to receive large field packs to be filled with what was called ‘web gear.’ Combat harnesses, pouches, canteens, folding shovels, and a wicked-looking knife with a coated, non-reflective blade. Things that were neat at first, but would later turn into just more stuff for the D.I’s to get pissed about. The kids didn’t know that yet, though. They were basking in the glow of thinking that they were one step closer to being marines.
By the time that gear was dropped off in the squad bay, it was already dinner time again.
Minerva found that unlike the previous day, the mess sergeant was not hassling recruits as they filed in. There was even a vague level of chatter going on as people shoveled their food in. She was feeling pretty spry, thinking that the second day had not been too awfully bad. Not nearly as much yelling from Bri, and the assembly line through intake not difficult at all. She had lucked out in Dental, having not a single cavity found. The dentist gave her a brisk cleaning, and sent her on her way. Probably her only complaint would be her sore upper arms, where the shots had been administered. All of the females had received a nano-injection in
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addition to the other cocktail of things pumped into them. The nanos would stop all menstruation for a year at a time, and prevent pregnancy as well, though she couldn’t imagine even having the opportunity to get into a position like that.
“Psst! Hey, you.”
Minerva turned. A recruit from one of the senior companies sitting at the table behind was leaning back, looking at her.
“Today’s your second day?”
Minerva nodded, still chewing. There was no time to pause in eating for something as mundane as conversation.
“Be sure you guys drink lots of milk before you leave dinner.” He told her.
She frowned, “Why?”
“Trust me,” he insisted. “It’s got stuff in it you’re going to need right after you walk out of here. We found out the hard way.”
Minerva traded looks with Ecu, who only shrugged. Some of the kids on either side of her got up, and went to the milk station to load up. Advice from senior recruits did not seem like something they should ignore.
“What do you think?” Ecu whispered.
Minerva shook her head, “Sounds fishy to me.”
They opted to refrain from drinking the milk, suspecting that it might be some sort of attempt at hazing the new people.
After chow, the company formed up outside as they knew they were supposed to, this time in a more timely manner as well. The company as a whole was feeling pretty smug with themselves. This must have been apparent to Sergeant Bri, for when he emerged
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from the NCO’s side of the hall, he had that expression that the kids were already becoming familiar with. He was up to no good.
“What a fine evening for a run! What do you turds think?”
There was no right answer other than a stout ‘yes, sir.’
Bri then proceeded to run them at a brisk pace around the Grinder, again and again. After the third lap, people were beginning to lag, grasping at stitches in their sides. By the fourth time around, kids were gasping, trotting completely out of formation, and wondering if they were going to drop dead. Approaching the fifth circuit, it began to happen. Those that had drank milk were one by one teetering to the side, and heaving explosively. It started a chain reaction, and soon better than a third of the company was vomiting up their supper. Only then did the sergeant stop running, himself hardly even breathing hard. His grin was a malicious one.
“When you turds have finished turning yourselves inside-out, we can march back to your barracks to conclude the day.”
It took a few minutes for the kids to collect themselves, and Bri seemed oddly content to wait for them. Minerva and Ecu had both avoided throwing up, but were just as winded as everyone else. They leaned on one another, taking advantage of Bri’s display of compassion in not demanding they stand at attention yet. When at last everyone had caught their breath, and assumed attention on their own, Bri turned, and began walking toward the company area. The kids marched as best they were able, but looked pretty bad by any standard.
Bri stopped just short of the stoop, and grinned again, “Company One-Nine, dismissed!”
The first few kids through the doors stumbled to a halt partway in, causing a traffic jam on the steps.
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“What’s the hold up?”Ecu demanded, her ears twitching. She wanted a shower, and bad.
Gradually, the knot untangled, and the rest of them were able to get in. Upon entering, Minerva and her friend were able to see just what the situation really was. With sinking dismay, the kids looked upon a squad bay that had been turned upside-down. Racks were over-turned, clothing scattered and mixed together, even hanging from the overhead lights. Gear thrown asunder. It was a mess.
“Now, I know what Bri was grinning about,” Ecu let out, shoulders slumped.
They were already exhausted, and now the kids were facing putting everything back together in the scant few hours left before taps. With groans of despair, they set about doing what had to be done.
Sergeant Bri came in about an hour later, and slowly strolled down the center aisle, hands tucked in the small of his back, expressionless. He said nothing as the recruits toiled around him, trying to have everything as they thought it sh
ould be, not understanding why the destruction had taken place to begin with.
“Meeting your senior drill instructor has been delayed until morning,” Bri announced, still moving toward his office. “Tomorrow marks Day One of your training, turds! Be prepared to meet your maker!”
Once Bri was safely in his quarters. Ecu turned to Minerva, and mimicked his words, capturing his voice with surprising accuracy.
“Be prepared to meet your maker.”
It was enough to bring some levity to the moment. Once again, the simple act of laughing eased their pains.
Training Day One, Week One
It was after eleven the night before, or 23:00 hours, when the kids had finally finished in reassembling their squad bay. Better than an hour of that had been after taps, in the dark. It had been Ecu’s idea to designate some of them to hold the flashlights that had been issued that day for the others who were working.
Worn out, but pleased that the barracks was back to its spotless form, the recruits used some of their precious sleep time to get to know one another. Being nearly a hundred of them, it was impossible for everyone to speak, so it turned out that the more timid among them were content to listen while the bolder kids talked. They were from all walks of life; rich, poor, and somewhere in-between. Twenty-five different countries from Earth, and thirteen of Attaya. The range of accents was as wide as their cultures, but it helped that English was a standard language among them.
Another thing that they all held in common was the understanding that there was going to be a need for leadership among them, someone other than the D.I.’s. A silence fell when that subject arose, because no one was sure enough of themselves to take on the task.
“Instead of one of us being on top,” Minerva suggested, “why don’t we agree to just share in our various skills?”
Many sets of eyes focused on her in the dim light cast by their lamps.
“What do you mean?” One of them asked.
“Well, for example, does anyone here know how to shine shoes real good? At some point, that’s going to be added to our list of things to do.”
