March, 25, 2552

Dear: Mom

It's been so long since I've had time to write. We've jump into "Hell" to many times to count. The covey bastards are hell to fight. It's as if once you kill an army and turn around to take a breather you get stabbed in the back by an elite. Thank you very much for the cookies you sent to me they were very delicious. It's been a hell of a long time since I got to sink my teeth in to a circle of sugary goodness. Also Thank you so much for the coffee from the farm I REALLY missed that stuff.

Your loving son,

Frank

March, 29, 2550

It's been a couple of weeks since we set foot on the soil of boot camp or as the boys call it "Hell Camp". Crazy to think we've been here three weeks and we have done nothing but drills, drills, and more drills. We haven't even set eye on a single weapon we might shoot except that of the SMG in which the major terrorizes us with on our unbearable runs. I swear we run at least fifteen miles a day. As I sat down next to Frank on his bunk I reached up onto mine and grouped for a package. When my fingers finally ran over the smooth edge of a beautiful combat knife I picked it up gently to be sure not to cut myself and handed it over to Frank. He looked at me confused as I put it in his hand.

"What's this?"

"It's your eighteenth birthday present dumbass. I would have given it to you four days ago, but I couldn't quite get it from the armory as soon as I had planned."

"Don't tell me you stole this."

He took the knife and turned it over in his hand gazing at it. It was a black bladed K-Bar over a hundred years old and yet still in pristine condition. It had a leather handle and an absolutely perfect balance point to it as if it were made to be thrown. The blade looked almost new the only place you could see that had any wear on it was a scar that etched in the left side of the blade that ran about an inch or two down the length of the blade.

"I wouldn't use those exact words, but me taking it was less than legal."

"Hahaha! You're a crazy sonofabitch Richard. Thanks a lot man. I know how difficult this was to get."

"Ah hell, it was no trouble at all. With a little bit of chloroform and you can do just about anything in this joint."

"That's funny right there bud."

We sat there for a bit not talking just letting the little bit of time that we have between drills and mess duty go by silently. I could see Frank was about to say something when the bell rang, that meant it was mess time. We pulled ourselves up sluggishly and looked around. Frank took on last look at the blade before he slid it under his pillow and we moseyed over to the kitchen. We entered the hall and put on the sticky plastic garment that all the boys had to wear when on mess duty. Surprising enough the initial run wasn't as fast as it usually was. Since it was slow we were able to sit back every time the cook turned his back to us. We didn't do much until all the food was served and everyone had eaten except the officers. As a Coronel walk up the line we sprang to our feet and to serve him. It was the first time we had ever seen this high of rank in the mess. In fact he was probably the highest rank we had ever seen in our short military carries.

"Hey boys what's for dinner?"

"Nothing Special sir." I said "Just the regular pork and beans."

"Hi, my name is Col. Eric Blackson."

He was nothing to look at in my standards he was I'd say five feet six inches, with muddy brown hair, and eyes to match his eye had a look that makes one think of death. It was almost as if he'd seen so many people die at once. Sad really.

"Hello sir. I'm Richard and this is Frank. What brings you to our humble abode?"

"I'm here to take a look at the boys that survived this long in boot."

"You don't say. What type of boys you looking for?"

"Ones with a wild eye like mine." He chuckled at that.

It was kind of creepy the way he laughed after that last phrase. It makes me think that he was planning to make a suicide squad.

The Coronel left that night and we never heard from him again. Oh yes we heard the stories about how and if he died. There was a few like him being killed by some rebels back on harvest or the one about him losing an entire platoon to a single squad of elites, but in turn he was able to effectively destroy an entire armada of covy birds. Who the hell can you tell with all the scuttle bucket that goes around now a days.

A couple of hours after mess the lovely Major decided we were getting a bit lazy, at oh I'd say three A.M., so he decided to take us on a run up mount Torock in the Highland mountains. Which was only about a mile off base, he ran us up Torock 5 miles up and 5 miles down. As we ran up the hill I started to chant a little bit, Frank soon joined in, than Buck and Curtus, as well as Bentley the words flowed out of our mouths.

"We fall upon the risers."

"We fall upon the grass."

"We never land upon or feet, we always hit our ass."

"Hidey Tidy, Christ almighty who the hell are we?"

"Zip, zam, Goddamn we're O.D.S.T.!"

The major stopped and stared at us as we kept running up the hill with a smirk on his face he could see that we were slightly turning into ODST's. He took a moment to see how my little squad was doing. When we reach our point of stopping he ran to the front and said

"You have two minutes to get a quick breath and a swig of water and then we're sprinting down. No lolly gagging. Or I'll shoot you in the ass. Understood?"

"Sir yes sir." We said in unison.

As we sat breathless I rallied up the boys and told them to take a seat. I looked into each of the eyes and knew that I had their attention. Even though they were half out of it from the cold and the running. I knew that they would do exactly as I told them to.

"We're going to be the first one down this god forsaken hill. Got it?"

Each one nodded as my eyes passed over them once more. Not a sign of doubt that we weren't going to the be the first ones down was in their eyes. I guess the good old major decided to be nice for once and let us take a few more minutes to breathe when he sent out the command to fall back down the hill. I reached down to Frank grabbed his hand and pulled him up. Than we each moved on to some else in the squad and pulled them up.

Once every one in the squad was on their feet, well kind of, I waved my hand and started to trudge down the hill. I told Frank to take up the rear and that I would take the lead. There were a few other squads in front of us, so I told the boys that we were double timing it. Just as it started to rain the numbness started to set in and so everything on from that point was nothing but a blur. There was no way of telling that we were a whole mile in front of the rest of the squad.

We kept running and we didn't stop for anything. We sped up the pace for the last four miles. The only time that the pace was any different was in the beginning when we were passing the other squads. We were half way through the camp when I finally noticed we didn't have to run any more. I slowly staggered to a stop and looked behind me to see how the squad was doing. They were all physically and mentally exhausted. Curtus came up to me and asked.

"So Sarge are we allowed to head out to get cleaned up or what."

All I could manage was to shake my head no.

"Why's that boss?"

"Cause I'd rather not have my ass chewed when the major runs in to the barracks to find us all asleep instead of standing in at roll."

"Ah hell, fine."

We sat down and waited for around 15 minutes for the rest of the company to show up. Finally the major jogged in to camp and approached me.

"I'm shocked that you were able to make those chubby bastards move their asses that fast. Also if I'm not mistaken I do believe you just set the record or going up and down Torock."

"You got to be kidding me. I know we moved fast, but to set a record goddamn."

"Now don't get all mushy on me boy, but yes you led your men to their fullest potential and in all honesty that ain't and easy thing to do. Gr… well done boy."

That was the last thing he told me until the day he died. It's funny I was the only one in the entire company that he said something positive to their face about and he never talked to me directly after that day. Who could tell what was going through his mind through the years. He was a crazy SOB and I guess I'll miss him. Oh well what you going to do with that.