Camp: Unspecified
Location: Unknown
Date and Time: Winter
The rushing sound of boots.
"Wakey wakey! Rise and shine ladies! It is now two minutes to four on God's green earth!" Shouted the Staff Sergeant as he entered the barracks and flicked on the tacky lights. "You have now got, thirty seconds to get off your arses and ten more seconds to fall in outside!" He yelled looking at his watch, then he turned to the Corporal nodding, "You know what to do now."
"Yes sir!" Was the response the sergeant wanted to hear, and it was exactly what he got, he grinned with malice at me as he turned to leave. He always got his way, the Corporal did not like him, neither did the rest of us, but he would not stand up to him, even when the sarge went too far. He just couldn't.
It was barely above freezing outside and the sun was only just beginning to climb over the horizon. All the men around me were trained soldiers and were now training to be the best, the elite of the Army. That did not however stop us grumbling about being woken up early and thrown out into the cold only half dressed at best. We were all in our exercise gear or near enough to completely in it and we knew what to expect next.
"Right, you sorry lot!"Screamed the Corporal, "The Sergeant heard your whining inside as he walked away, he will be watching you now, God have mercy on you if he doesn't like what he sees!" He then turned to the end of the line before continuing, "Morning Run around the camp! Carry out!" None of us minded the Corporal, we all knew what he was really like. It was just his job after all, to shout at us and he had to follow what the Sergeant ordered or we would all be worse off. The long line of potential Special Forces men stretched out over a hundred yards or so as we began the run, because some of us were more awake than others. I was towards the front of this line as per usual, being a marathon runner back at high school had it's uses after all, I had found after signing up for the Armed Forces.
My name is Jack Wilshire, my mother was born in the States and my father was born in Britain, but moved here. So naturally I love the States and am ready to die for my country. I earned the nickname "goggles" when I first joined the army a few years back, and after sniper school I requested the opportunity to join the Special Forces and now I'm in a training camp, somewhere in the Middle East. I can't be certain where though, the army only tells you what it thinks you need to know, nothing more, nothing less. My fiancé's waiting for me back in Washington D.C and we hope to get married when I rotate home after training.
As we turned the corner round the lunch hall some other potential recruits walked out, swinging both the door into those up ahead of me and walking headlong into the people running right in front of me. It didn't look good, about eight guys were all lying tangled up and at any moment we might see the furious Sergeant running towards us or some other NCO. The door swung open again, as the other men came out too. They saw what was going on and tried to get stuck in as well, it was chaos as both sides piled in. Punches were thrown by both sides and at least one man had his jaw cracked, I didn't know him, so I didn't care much about him. I was more concerned for my own well being and for that of my friend's. It would have been comical to watch, everyone involved knew a wide range of close combat, unarmed combat and martial arts, but all of these were forgotten and thrown out of the window as we got stuck in. I had just ducked beneath one swing, knocked back another and was about to swing myself when, the Corporal came running from around the corner. We all froze and turned to see him steaming, he took another pace forward raising his finger and opening his mouth, but his foot caught on one of the men lying unconscious and he landed in the sand on his face.
Some cautious snorts went round as everyone picked themselves up and brushed themselves down. The snorts escalated into chuckles until even the Corporal was laughing his head off too. At least this NCO had a sense of humour.
"Right, enough comedy for one morning, finish the run before the Sergeant has your guts for garters! The rest of you clear off, and someone move this lump." He said, kicking the body he had tripped on, then stormed off to clean himself.
We had got off lightly there, we all knew it. The rest of the run was completed in silence and without incident. We got back to our barracks covered in sweat and wheezing for breath. We sounded more like old men, than young men in their prime. The Sergeant was waiting for us when we got back with a knowing smile on his face.
"Today ladies," he began, "We go on the range."
We all let out a sigh of relief. The rest of the day would be a breeze.
But why was he smiling?