A Good Soldier- Chapter Two By Slayne
Note on this chapter-- I was challenged by a fan to actually use the correct
term of 'balaclava' for Beach Head's mask in a fic, lol! We actually had a nice
little conversation about why I use 'mask' instead of balaclava (because it's a
foreign word that a lot of people don't understand, and all the guys I know in
the military tell me they all just call it a mask) But...in the end...I agreed
to use it occasionally! So this is for you, Bill...hope you're happy!
And thanks to Scarlett_Hauser for catching my bad in this chapter. (You've
always got my back, girl!)
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Wayne walked back to his own quarters, a small room with its own
bathroom next to a few others. He took a cold shower because there was rarely
any other kind here, and then re-dressed in a set of BDU greens minus the
button-up shirt. The humidity made the clean shirt stick to his body again
almost immediately. It didn't bother him. He'd endured worse...and could endure
more. A t-shirt was fine for evening hours here and the camp was small enough
and casual enough that everyone knew his rank. Besides, they had decided to give
the group the evening off and then wake them far before dawn to get them on the
trail for a daylong exercise. Evaluations were drawn up on how they handled
everything. Even off-hours. He strapped his .45 pistol to his shoulder. Local
guerilla fighters and various gangs who ran drugs did roam sometimes through the
jungles. They knew the camp was there and that it held enough various munitions
to make them wealthy or help them sufficiently in their cause.
He glanced in a small mirror over his sink and ran a hand over the late-day
growth of dark reddish -brown beard that covered his jaw. He'd shave tomorrow.
He'd gotten a haircut right before reporting for duty here and his dark brown
hair was shaved close at the sides and back and left slightly longer and
bristle-stiff on the top.
He strapped his bowie knife to his thigh and then stuffed the green balaclava he
sometimes wore on missions in his belt. Being prepared was the number one rule
around here. This wasn't stateside America...it was a foreign country and not
always a peaceful one at that.
There were a few people still in mess when he went in to get his dinner. It was
late though, and he nearly ended up missing it and eating MREs. He took the tray
of grayish strings of meat mixed in with pasty mashed potatoes and some sort of
watery gravy and sat down by himself in one corner. He eagerly dug in and
spooned the mess into his mouth. Flavor and taste were concerns that he deemed
inconsequential and unimportant. Army food was meant to keep an active body
going and that's what it did. He scanned the room while he ate and saw Burnett
sitting in the opposite corner from him. A small group of officers sat between
them obscuring his view, but he caught glimpses of her occasionally.
She sat alone, her half eaten tray of food in front of her, reading a book. He
gazed curiously at her. Her hair was now dry and combed neatly back although it
had a natural untidiness that seemed unplanned. Strands tended to grow this way
and that and it fell in her eyes repeatedly. It was probably outside of army
regs, but he found he had no desire to correct her on it. He couldn't see the
title of the book, but had seen her reading the well-worn paperback more than
once. What was so interesting or...comforting...in that book that she carted it
around with her and read it often? She seemed at ease there and occasionally
picked at the remainder of her meal. She had dropped some weight, he thought,
along with the others, but otherwise seemed to be taking good care of herself,
so he wasn't worried about her finishing the meal. He paused then and growled
quietly before shoving a forkful of meat into his mouth and chewing with
consternation. Why was he worried about her at all? This wasn't boot camp and
she wasn't some new recruit fresh off the streets. She was a Corporal with
extensive training and a proven track record. She was on a bullet train in
Intelligence and was proving herself capable to every test so far. But...he
found his gaze straying over to her with or without his permission all through
the relatively short meal. A few days ago, they'd had an interesting
conversation that still enveloped his thoughts.
He had risen at his usual early time, always before everyone else. He'd quickly
dressed and then gone for his morning run. Once he'd gotten out of boot camp and
had a little more freedom and control over his free time, it had become a ritual
with him. He liked being up when no one else was and running through pre-dawn
darkness. It was quiet and he could think about things. Like what level of hell
he would run the recruits through that day. Two were gone already. One of the
women, one of the men. He was sure the other two women would be gone soon. Maybe
today. He had smiled at that. It wasn't that he thought women couldn't do a good
job in the military. On the contrary, he thought they had their place here, just
not in a combat position. It distracted the men, brought out that protective
streak that sometimes made them stupid. And perhaps that spoke of the failings
of men rather than the failings of women, but it was reality and that's all
there was to it.
When he'd jogged back into the camp and slowed himself to a walk, the sky was
beginning to lighten and the base was engulfed in a deep blue dawn. He'd pulled
his shirt off and walked slowly around the small base as his muscles cooled and
his breath slowed. He'd take in an hour of weight training as well today, but
later. The base had a few old sets of free weights in the makeshift gym that was
really a storage shed. It was hot and it smelled like shit, but he didn't care.
It was about keeping yourself prime and pride in being a good soldier, not about
comfort. He wiped the sweat from his face and chest with his shirt.
He was about to head for a completely useless shower, when he looked left and
saw Corporal Burnett sitting outside of her barracks. What the...? He walked
towards her. She was sitting cross-legged in the grass behind the women's
barracks, facing out towards the jungle. Her eyes were closed. He approached her
quietly, but she opened her eyes calmly when he stood in front of her. He
watched her eyes travel up his legs and then widen slightly as they saw he was
shirtless. He wondered if she thought he was attractive...and then wondered
where the hell THAT thought had come from. Her eyes met his and she started to
rise. He put his hand out.
"At ease, Corporal. You've got 45 minutes before I put you through hell again.
Relax."
A corner of her mouth tugged upwards and she sank back to her rear on the
ground. "Thank you, Staff."
"What are you doing out here?" He asked, suddenly very curious. She held his
gaze indecisively and then sighed.
"I'm...just getting myself ready for the day. I know it will be tough, and it's
quiet and peaceful right now. I'm just trying to get some of that peacefulness
inside of me before it starts."
It wasn't as crazy as it sounded. Isn't that what he did every morning with his
run? He studied her for a moment. Truthfully, he had thought she'd be the first
to leave this training session. Despite the comments, training and progress
reports that contradicted that belief in her records, he had thought she would
be the first to throw in the towel.
"You're not one of those new-age hippies are you, Burnett?" He glared
suspiciously at her. That brought a real smile to her face and her green eyes
sparkled up at him in good humor. He felt his mouth run dry, and a tiny rivulet
of anger towards himself and his reaction to her wormed its way through his gut.
"No," she answered him. "I just like to get all my priorities straight before I
face the day."
"Huh...well, don't lose too much sleep. You're not flying so easily through this
course that you can afford to slack-off physically." In fact, from the first few
days of exercises, she wasn't flying easily through anything. She was having
difficulties. He gave her a stern nod and began to turn to walk away when she
replied.
"Can we cut the bullshit here for a moment, Staff Sergeant?"
He was genuinely surprised at that, and he stared at her for a moment before
stepping back and standing over her, looking down. It was a stance that
intimidated male soldiers, especially if he made them sit on the ground, when
their instincts told them to rise and face him. It didn't seem to bother her.
She leaned back on her hands and tilted her head to look up at him.
"This is not an easy training program for me. I think we both realize that after
only a few days. I'm struggling through everyday of it, despite my success in
Ranger school and other programs. As a Ranger, I'm sure you can appreciate what
it took to get through that training." She paused and he frowned. What did she
want him to say? Where was this leading? Was she quitting? He tried to push away
the sense of disappointment in that thought. If she couldn't cut it, she
couldn't cut it.
"Ranger training was the hardest thing I ever did outside of combat
missions...and I loved every second of it." He admitted to her in a strong
voice.
She nodded as if she had suspected that all along. "Well then...you'll
appreciate that while I am struggling through your physical stress tests
here...I love Covert Ops...and it's something I am pursuing with a passion.
Whatever I need to do to get through this course...I'll do, whether it means
losing sleep or even doing without it altogether. It's more mental than
physical, everyone knows that. It's all a test of your mental toughness and
capabilities. The physical stress just taxes your mental state that much more."
He just stared down at her, his mind considering all she had just said. Not
quitting...no, not at all. She was telling him she intended to get through this
course no matter what it took, even if she had to crawl through the last week to
do it. He felt a sense of wonder as he considered her. He had never met a woman
like this in the military before. Nor outside of it either.
"You need physical toughness too, Corporal. If you're captured by the enemy,
you'd better be tough enough to survive their interrogations and long
imprisonment in harsh conditions. They won't lock you away in a country club,
you know."
He loved that irritated look that flashed through her eyes.
"Yes sir...but I'm prepared to put every ounce of myself into this. Even if it
kills me."
He wasn't sure if it was wealthy arrogance or plain old self-confidence she was
showing, but it brought out the bastard in him. He lowered himself to his heels
in front of her and pinned her with his piercing, drill- sergeant's glare.
"Well...it just might, Corporal. If not here, then later. There's a very good
chance you'll end up dead on a mission. Even more so because you're a woman."
"That shouldn't be a factor...I..."
"But it is, Corporal." He cut her off. "Whether it 'should' or not makes no
difference. I don't give free rides through my training camps. Everyone is
expected to do the same amount of work. If you, as a woman, aren't able to
complete that work, then I'll cut you. I respect the amount of effort you're
willing to put into this, but sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you're just
not good enough. And that's the goddamned truth."
He had stood and walked away, leaving her to stare after him. He snapped back to
the present.
Wayne stared across the room at the female Corporal and then rose quickly and
took his empty tray to add to the pile of dirty ones already on a table. He
glanced at her as he walked past and found her eyes on him, studying him. He met
her gaze briefly before setting the empty tray down and walking from the
building without a second glance. He wondered if her gaze followed him out.
The evening was in full darkness when he exited the mess hall. There was a
quarter moon and the stars were bright and very visible in the black sky. The
ever-present heat and humidity closed around him but brought a slight breeze to
his skin that was lacking in the unairconditioned buildings. Whirring insects
sang loudly from the jungle and the brush inside the camp. He walked slowly
towards the dilapidated building that served as a general bar and officer's
club. It was not off-limits to anyone in the camp. The officers had to share
with the enlisted men and the recruits were allowed to drink as well. It was all
part of the training camp. How they dealt with the social interactions and the
responsibility of alcohol was important. It was the way Wayne thought it should
be all over the military, not just here...in this distant little hole in the
ground that no one knew about.
He had grown up in the Deep South in Auburn, Alabama. His family was well below
the poverty level and even more so after his mother had left them and moved away
when he was 9. His father was a stern, serious retired Sergeant who served early
and briefly in Vietnam and came home without the use of his right leg. But even
with the treatment of 'Nam Vets by American citizens at that time and the
subsequent desertion of them by Wayne's mother, the man had never sank into deep
depression or drug use or any other coping mechanism. 'When you're a man, you
act like it.' His father's words echoed within him. Wayne embraced that same
honor and responsibility. His father had died several years ago and he often
wondered if the man had seen his son standing in his dress uniform at the
funeral.
He had an older sister that he wasn't close to. She had to hold a job down
through high school and wasn't around much when he was in elementary school.
They spoke on holidays and he sent the occasional letter, but for the most
part...she had her own family and they had very separate lives. And that was
fine with him.
He even talked to his mother now and then. She had remarried and moved to Baton
Rouge with her new husband. He had visited one Christmas after he had joined up,
and his lingering resentment over her abandonment along with her view of him as
'just like your father' had made it uncomfortable and combative. He'd left
early, probably to everyone's relief including his own. He was happy here in the
Army on his own. He had goals and a job to do. Family and friends tended to
obscure that goal and distract you from your job.
He walked into the makeshift base bar and automatically stepped to the left. The
officers, who wished to stay separate from the enlisted men, usually
commandeered the far right of the room. They sat in a big group around a few
mismatched tables that were pulled together. A small group of recruits sat in
another group at the other end of the room. As Wayne eased himself onto a stool,
a man broke away from the group of officers and walked towards him.
"You made it, I'll be damned!" said Will as he clapped Wayne on the shoulder and
slid onto the stool next to him. Wayne just nodded and accepted the beer that
the civilian bartender sat in front of him.
"Gracias." Wayne nodded at the man, who nodded back and turned back to his
duties.
"You seen Greengrass tonight?" Will asked and Wayne glanced at him.
"Yeah...he was headed towards the ammo shed. Probably checking the guard. That
was earlier though, right after you headed back with the men."
"How'd she do?" Will asked with a smirk.
Wayne wasn't sure why that smirk sent a surge of annoyance through him. He'd
always found it amusing before. He and William Elias had gone to Ranger School
together. Wayne had been a young Corporal and Will had been fresh from officer's
school and had a shiny new Lieutenant's bar on his collar. Wayne would normally
have ignored the officers, except for the obligatory salute, but Will had been
different. He had not had the stuffy indifference or haughty,
testosterone-driven ego that so many officers had, especially when fresh out of
the gate.
"She did good. Better than she did with those two snot-nosed Lieutenants all
over her."
Will took a swallow of beer and glanced at him with a grin. "Ah well...we'll get
her out of here yet."
They joked often about women in the military, at least when Greengrass wasn't
around. Wayne didn't think either of them really meant it. It was just talk
between men.
"I don't know," Wayne shook his head and tilted his glass to look down at the
cheap, warm light colored beer in his glass. "She's really taking it. I'd have
given good money that she'd be the first gone before I met her, but now..."
"Pff. Give her time...don't tell me the great 'he-man woman-hater' of the Army
is going soft on a recruit?"
Wayne glanced sidelong at the Major. "I don't hate women, Will."
"Yeah...you certainly didn't hate that woman we met in San Antonio on leave two
years ago."
Wayne winced and squeezed his eyes shut. "Jesus...don't bring that up again! I'd
have been fine if you hadn't fed me that goddamned hill hooch that your brother
brought you from home."
Will laughed and took a half-smoked cigar from his shirt pocket, lighting the
tip and inhaling with a sigh. "Man...I have NEVER seen a sight funnier than you
trying to 'get down' with that dirty-dancing disco queen!"
"God, don't remind me!"
"Aw! She took you home and did you up right, didn't she?"
"Yes, but I don't remember much of it." And he hadn't touched another drop of
that moonshine, nor did he ever have more than two beers when he went out after
that. He didn't like not remembering things like that. He didn't like knowing he
was out of control.
"You got the plans all set for tonight?" Wayne asked him, trying to change the
subject. Will glanced at him knowingly but nodded and let it go.
"Yes. We get them up at three and march them out. They can eat MREs on the trail
and fight the insects. We'll sleep out on the trail and then march them back
next morning. Nothing they haven't faced before."
"Riiight..." Wayne agreed, favoring him with that rarely used smile once again.
He was glad Will had been assigned to this camp. They had kept in touch after
Benning and even took leave together twice afterwards. When Wayne had been
chosen for this assignment and he'd arrived, thinking of obstacle course plans
and wondering how he was going to deal with the officer in charge, he'd come
here to have a beer and wait. He'd been shocked as hell when a hand had clamped
down on his shoulder and a stern voice had ordered.
"Don't you salute your superiors, boy?"
He'd jumped up, thinking he'd missed a bar or an oak leaf somewhere on someone
and found himself facing his old friend, Captain William Elias. Only now not a
Captain, but a Major.
"Will!" he'd exclaimed as he'd snapped a salute off. Will wouldn't have demanded
it from him he knew, but there were other officers standing in the room, and
Wayne would not deny him that sign of respect in front of the others, whether
Will cared or not. They had grinned at each other and sat down for a beer and
hours of reminiscing. Will was physically big and mentally outgoing and could be
intimidating in every way possible when he wished. But he was also just a 'good
ole boy' to his friends and didn't sweat the small stuff when it came to rank or
position...unless you pissed him off or talked down to him. Another voice pulled
him back to the present again.
"Hey!"
Both of the men looked up and saw Brad Greengrass walking in the door. The Staff
Sergeant glanced towards the circle of officers, sending a smile towards one of
the female Lieutenants. Will and Wayne glanced at each other meaningfully, and
Brad pulled a chair up to sit facing them. He waved off the beer that Will
offered and took his boonie hat off, revealing thick, stiff black hair.
"Everything set for tonight?" He asked and looked at Will.
"Yeah...Be outside the barracks at oh three hundred sharp."
"Yes sir." Brad grinned.
Will motioned vaguely towards the circle of officers. "That Lieutenant wants to
get in your teepee, Greengrass."
Wayne snorted and Brad shook his head, smiling good-naturedly. "Teepees are the
plains tribes, Will...I'm Ho-Chunk....no teepees."
"Yeah, well, whatever it is, she wants in."
"No way...it goes bad, and I'm the one who gets discharged."
"Nah...Happens all the time..." Will looked at Wayne. "What was the name of that
Captain that had her sights set on you again, Wayne?"
Wayne almost spit his beer out. His head jerked up and he glared at Will.
"Jesus, Will...tell the whole place. And I don't remember!"
Will grinned and looked at Brad. "Oh man...you should have seen it. We were both
at Benning and she was drooling all over muscle man here. Liked to slum-it, I
guess. She could have had any officer she wanted and she was chasing after a
newly promoted Sergeant."
Brad laughed and glanced doubtfully at Wayne. "Don't tell me you..."
"No!" Wayne growled.
"I still don't know why you didn't grab a piece of that. She was fine!"
"Because it's against regulations, bonehead...I like this job, I'm not eager to
get booted."
Will snorted. "All she wanted was some fun, Sneeden. You'd have had no
problems."
"It's still against regs, Will...besides, she wanted me to put on a drill
sergeant's hat and order her to su..." The rest was drowned out in laughter and
Wayne shook his head, smiling faintly.
Will wiped his eyes and sighed. "You have an incredible sense of honor, Sneeden.
More than half the officers I know."
"I'm sure that's not true." Wayne sipped his beer.
"You'd be surprised."
"Well, then...I hope that's not true. It's different if a PFC, who's just
starting out, fucks up, but when an officer does it, then it just pisses me off.
They should know better. It makes us all look bad, not to mention the Army."
"For God's sake, Wayne...we don't have to listen to one of your awful lectures
now, do we?" Brad laughed and Wayne just shook his head. He just didn't
understand why anyone would put their rank at risk like that. Especially after
they'd made the decision to go career.
"Oh...did you get the lectures too?" Will asked Brad, laughing. "I was getting
them all the way back in Ranger training school."
Brad grinned, his black eyes fastening on Wayne. "Christ...that's all I heard on
patrol when we were out on missions. You gotta learn to keep your mouth shut,
pal."
Wayne shot him the middle finger. "There...that quiet enough for you, Brad?"
Brad looked at Will and laughed. Wayne could take a smart-ass, even like one, as
long as they were committed and giving 110%. But put a slacker in his
company...or, god forbid, a whiny and indecisive officer, and Wayne was going to
have a problem...or rather the offending man was going to have the problem.
"What was that comment that that Colonel made on your evaluation for Airborne
graduation?" Will asked, looking at Wayne.
"I don't know...something about how 'a little tact goes a long way'." Wayne
glared and the other two broke into laughs again. They spent the next few hours
laughing over old history. Wayne didn't even mind being the butt of most of the
jokes. He felt comfortable with these two brothers-in-arms, and he felt
comfortable in the army. It was home.
"Hey...remember when you were paired up with that Captain for reconnaissance on
that nighttime raid in Ranger training?" Will asked. When Wayne nodded, Will
went on and grinned at Brad. "No one had had more than two hours of sleep in two
days. The fucking Captain was about as tough as they came and he and Wayne had
to go out and recon the enemy position. It's oh three hundred and dark and
raining. They're vulnerable to attack at any time and they even know someone is
gonna try it. So it's all tense and the Captain is sweating bullets. Wayne here
actually starts singing to himself. What was the song?"
Wayne thought about it. "I think it was Ring of Fire."
Brad rolled his eyes and grimaced. Wayne thought about shooting him the finger
again but resisted. Will continued.
"He really freaked that Captain out, cause when they got back the guy went
straight to the Colonel and said, 'That fucker SANG the whole time we were on
the trail. He thought we were on a fucking moonlight stroll on the beach!'. The
Colonel just shrugged and said Wayne had a cool head and that that wasn't
bad."
"Christ! And then all the guys called me Beach Head for the rest of training.
Thank God that nickname didn't stick with me." Wayne grimaced as the others
laughed. They stayed later than planned and finally left when the officer's
group broke-up and the ranking Colonel shot them a stern look.
Wayne walked back to his quarters feeling better than he had in a long time. He
was exactly where he wanted to be and doing exactly what he wanted to be doing.
Now...if he could just figure out why Corporal Burnett kept finding her way into
his mind, he'd be just fine.
TBC..............
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Note on this chapter-- I was challenged by a fan to actually use the correct
term of 'balaclava' for Beach Head's mask in a fic, lol! We actually had a nice
little conversation about why I use 'mask' instead of balaclava (because it's a
foreign word that a lot of people don't understand, and all the guys I know in
the military tell me they all just call it a mask) But...in the end...I agreed
to use it occasionally! So this is for you, Bill...hope you're happy!
And thanks to Scarlett_Hauser for catching my bad in this chapter. (You've
always got my back, girl!)
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Wayne walked back to his own quarters, a small room with its own
bathroom next to a few others. He took a cold shower because there was rarely
any other kind here, and then re-dressed in a set of BDU greens minus the
button-up shirt. The humidity made the clean shirt stick to his body again
almost immediately. It didn't bother him. He'd endured worse...and could endure
more. A t-shirt was fine for evening hours here and the camp was small enough
and casual enough that everyone knew his rank. Besides, they had decided to give
the group the evening off and then wake them far before dawn to get them on the
trail for a daylong exercise. Evaluations were drawn up on how they handled
everything. Even off-hours. He strapped his .45 pistol to his shoulder. Local
guerilla fighters and various gangs who ran drugs did roam sometimes through the
jungles. They knew the camp was there and that it held enough various munitions
to make them wealthy or help them sufficiently in their cause.
He glanced in a small mirror over his sink and ran a hand over the late-day
growth of dark reddish -brown beard that covered his jaw. He'd shave tomorrow.
He'd gotten a haircut right before reporting for duty here and his dark brown
hair was shaved close at the sides and back and left slightly longer and
bristle-stiff on the top.
He strapped his bowie knife to his thigh and then stuffed the green balaclava he
sometimes wore on missions in his belt. Being prepared was the number one rule
around here. This wasn't stateside America...it was a foreign country and not
always a peaceful one at that.
There were a few people still in mess when he went in to get his dinner. It was
late though, and he nearly ended up missing it and eating MREs. He took the tray
of grayish strings of meat mixed in with pasty mashed potatoes and some sort of
watery gravy and sat down by himself in one corner. He eagerly dug in and
spooned the mess into his mouth. Flavor and taste were concerns that he deemed
inconsequential and unimportant. Army food was meant to keep an active body
going and that's what it did. He scanned the room while he ate and saw Burnett
sitting in the opposite corner from him. A small group of officers sat between
them obscuring his view, but he caught glimpses of her occasionally.
She sat alone, her half eaten tray of food in front of her, reading a book. He
gazed curiously at her. Her hair was now dry and combed neatly back although it
had a natural untidiness that seemed unplanned. Strands tended to grow this way
and that and it fell in her eyes repeatedly. It was probably outside of army
regs, but he found he had no desire to correct her on it. He couldn't see the
title of the book, but had seen her reading the well-worn paperback more than
once. What was so interesting or...comforting...in that book that she carted it
around with her and read it often? She seemed at ease there and occasionally
picked at the remainder of her meal. She had dropped some weight, he thought,
along with the others, but otherwise seemed to be taking good care of herself,
so he wasn't worried about her finishing the meal. He paused then and growled
quietly before shoving a forkful of meat into his mouth and chewing with
consternation. Why was he worried about her at all? This wasn't boot camp and
she wasn't some new recruit fresh off the streets. She was a Corporal with
extensive training and a proven track record. She was on a bullet train in
Intelligence and was proving herself capable to every test so far. But...he
found his gaze straying over to her with or without his permission all through
the relatively short meal. A few days ago, they'd had an interesting
conversation that still enveloped his thoughts.
He had risen at his usual early time, always before everyone else. He'd quickly
dressed and then gone for his morning run. Once he'd gotten out of boot camp and
had a little more freedom and control over his free time, it had become a ritual
with him. He liked being up when no one else was and running through pre-dawn
darkness. It was quiet and he could think about things. Like what level of hell
he would run the recruits through that day. Two were gone already. One of the
women, one of the men. He was sure the other two women would be gone soon. Maybe
today. He had smiled at that. It wasn't that he thought women couldn't do a good
job in the military. On the contrary, he thought they had their place here, just
not in a combat position. It distracted the men, brought out that protective
streak that sometimes made them stupid. And perhaps that spoke of the failings
of men rather than the failings of women, but it was reality and that's all
there was to it.
When he'd jogged back into the camp and slowed himself to a walk, the sky was
beginning to lighten and the base was engulfed in a deep blue dawn. He'd pulled
his shirt off and walked slowly around the small base as his muscles cooled and
his breath slowed. He'd take in an hour of weight training as well today, but
later. The base had a few old sets of free weights in the makeshift gym that was
really a storage shed. It was hot and it smelled like shit, but he didn't care.
It was about keeping yourself prime and pride in being a good soldier, not about
comfort. He wiped the sweat from his face and chest with his shirt.
He was about to head for a completely useless shower, when he looked left and
saw Corporal Burnett sitting outside of her barracks. What the...? He walked
towards her. She was sitting cross-legged in the grass behind the women's
barracks, facing out towards the jungle. Her eyes were closed. He approached her
quietly, but she opened her eyes calmly when he stood in front of her. He
watched her eyes travel up his legs and then widen slightly as they saw he was
shirtless. He wondered if she thought he was attractive...and then wondered
where the hell THAT thought had come from. Her eyes met his and she started to
rise. He put his hand out.
"At ease, Corporal. You've got 45 minutes before I put you through hell again.
Relax."
A corner of her mouth tugged upwards and she sank back to her rear on the
ground. "Thank you, Staff."
"What are you doing out here?" He asked, suddenly very curious. She held his
gaze indecisively and then sighed.
"I'm...just getting myself ready for the day. I know it will be tough, and it's
quiet and peaceful right now. I'm just trying to get some of that peacefulness
inside of me before it starts."
It wasn't as crazy as it sounded. Isn't that what he did every morning with his
run? He studied her for a moment. Truthfully, he had thought she'd be the first
to leave this training session. Despite the comments, training and progress
reports that contradicted that belief in her records, he had thought she would
be the first to throw in the towel.
"You're not one of those new-age hippies are you, Burnett?" He glared
suspiciously at her. That brought a real smile to her face and her green eyes
sparkled up at him in good humor. He felt his mouth run dry, and a tiny rivulet
of anger towards himself and his reaction to her wormed its way through his gut.
"No," she answered him. "I just like to get all my priorities straight before I
face the day."
"Huh...well, don't lose too much sleep. You're not flying so easily through this
course that you can afford to slack-off physically." In fact, from the first few
days of exercises, she wasn't flying easily through anything. She was having
difficulties. He gave her a stern nod and began to turn to walk away when she
replied.
"Can we cut the bullshit here for a moment, Staff Sergeant?"
He was genuinely surprised at that, and he stared at her for a moment before
stepping back and standing over her, looking down. It was a stance that
intimidated male soldiers, especially if he made them sit on the ground, when
their instincts told them to rise and face him. It didn't seem to bother her.
She leaned back on her hands and tilted her head to look up at him.
"This is not an easy training program for me. I think we both realize that after
only a few days. I'm struggling through everyday of it, despite my success in
Ranger school and other programs. As a Ranger, I'm sure you can appreciate what
it took to get through that training." She paused and he frowned. What did she
want him to say? Where was this leading? Was she quitting? He tried to push away
the sense of disappointment in that thought. If she couldn't cut it, she
couldn't cut it.
"Ranger training was the hardest thing I ever did outside of combat
missions...and I loved every second of it." He admitted to her in a strong
voice.
She nodded as if she had suspected that all along. "Well then...you'll
appreciate that while I am struggling through your physical stress tests
here...I love Covert Ops...and it's something I am pursuing with a passion.
Whatever I need to do to get through this course...I'll do, whether it means
losing sleep or even doing without it altogether. It's more mental than
physical, everyone knows that. It's all a test of your mental toughness and
capabilities. The physical stress just taxes your mental state that much more."
He just stared down at her, his mind considering all she had just said. Not
quitting...no, not at all. She was telling him she intended to get through this
course no matter what it took, even if she had to crawl through the last week to
do it. He felt a sense of wonder as he considered her. He had never met a woman
like this in the military before. Nor outside of it either.
"You need physical toughness too, Corporal. If you're captured by the enemy,
you'd better be tough enough to survive their interrogations and long
imprisonment in harsh conditions. They won't lock you away in a country club,
you know."
He loved that irritated look that flashed through her eyes.
"Yes sir...but I'm prepared to put every ounce of myself into this. Even if it
kills me."
He wasn't sure if it was wealthy arrogance or plain old self-confidence she was
showing, but it brought out the bastard in him. He lowered himself to his heels
in front of her and pinned her with his piercing, drill- sergeant's glare.
"Well...it just might, Corporal. If not here, then later. There's a very good
chance you'll end up dead on a mission. Even more so because you're a woman."
"That shouldn't be a factor...I..."
"But it is, Corporal." He cut her off. "Whether it 'should' or not makes no
difference. I don't give free rides through my training camps. Everyone is
expected to do the same amount of work. If you, as a woman, aren't able to
complete that work, then I'll cut you. I respect the amount of effort you're
willing to put into this, but sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you're just
not good enough. And that's the goddamned truth."
He had stood and walked away, leaving her to stare after him. He snapped back to
the present.
Wayne stared across the room at the female Corporal and then rose quickly and
took his empty tray to add to the pile of dirty ones already on a table. He
glanced at her as he walked past and found her eyes on him, studying him. He met
her gaze briefly before setting the empty tray down and walking from the
building without a second glance. He wondered if her gaze followed him out.
The evening was in full darkness when he exited the mess hall. There was a
quarter moon and the stars were bright and very visible in the black sky. The
ever-present heat and humidity closed around him but brought a slight breeze to
his skin that was lacking in the unairconditioned buildings. Whirring insects
sang loudly from the jungle and the brush inside the camp. He walked slowly
towards the dilapidated building that served as a general bar and officer's
club. It was not off-limits to anyone in the camp. The officers had to share
with the enlisted men and the recruits were allowed to drink as well. It was all
part of the training camp. How they dealt with the social interactions and the
responsibility of alcohol was important. It was the way Wayne thought it should
be all over the military, not just here...in this distant little hole in the
ground that no one knew about.
He had grown up in the Deep South in Auburn, Alabama. His family was well below
the poverty level and even more so after his mother had left them and moved away
when he was 9. His father was a stern, serious retired Sergeant who served early
and briefly in Vietnam and came home without the use of his right leg. But even
with the treatment of 'Nam Vets by American citizens at that time and the
subsequent desertion of them by Wayne's mother, the man had never sank into deep
depression or drug use or any other coping mechanism. 'When you're a man, you
act like it.' His father's words echoed within him. Wayne embraced that same
honor and responsibility. His father had died several years ago and he often
wondered if the man had seen his son standing in his dress uniform at the
funeral.
He had an older sister that he wasn't close to. She had to hold a job down
through high school and wasn't around much when he was in elementary school.
They spoke on holidays and he sent the occasional letter, but for the most
part...she had her own family and they had very separate lives. And that was
fine with him.
He even talked to his mother now and then. She had remarried and moved to Baton
Rouge with her new husband. He had visited one Christmas after he had joined up,
and his lingering resentment over her abandonment along with her view of him as
'just like your father' had made it uncomfortable and combative. He'd left
early, probably to everyone's relief including his own. He was happy here in the
Army on his own. He had goals and a job to do. Family and friends tended to
obscure that goal and distract you from your job.
He walked into the makeshift base bar and automatically stepped to the left. The
officers, who wished to stay separate from the enlisted men, usually
commandeered the far right of the room. They sat in a big group around a few
mismatched tables that were pulled together. A small group of recruits sat in
another group at the other end of the room. As Wayne eased himself onto a stool,
a man broke away from the group of officers and walked towards him.
"You made it, I'll be damned!" said Will as he clapped Wayne on the shoulder and
slid onto the stool next to him. Wayne just nodded and accepted the beer that
the civilian bartender sat in front of him.
"Gracias." Wayne nodded at the man, who nodded back and turned back to his
duties.
"You seen Greengrass tonight?" Will asked and Wayne glanced at him.
"Yeah...he was headed towards the ammo shed. Probably checking the guard. That
was earlier though, right after you headed back with the men."
"How'd she do?" Will asked with a smirk.
Wayne wasn't sure why that smirk sent a surge of annoyance through him. He'd
always found it amusing before. He and William Elias had gone to Ranger School
together. Wayne had been a young Corporal and Will had been fresh from officer's
school and had a shiny new Lieutenant's bar on his collar. Wayne would normally
have ignored the officers, except for the obligatory salute, but Will had been
different. He had not had the stuffy indifference or haughty,
testosterone-driven ego that so many officers had, especially when fresh out of
the gate.
"She did good. Better than she did with those two snot-nosed Lieutenants all
over her."
Will took a swallow of beer and glanced at him with a grin. "Ah well...we'll get
her out of here yet."
They joked often about women in the military, at least when Greengrass wasn't
around. Wayne didn't think either of them really meant it. It was just talk
between men.
"I don't know," Wayne shook his head and tilted his glass to look down at the
cheap, warm light colored beer in his glass. "She's really taking it. I'd have
given good money that she'd be the first gone before I met her, but now..."
"Pff. Give her time...don't tell me the great 'he-man woman-hater' of the Army
is going soft on a recruit?"
Wayne glanced sidelong at the Major. "I don't hate women, Will."
"Yeah...you certainly didn't hate that woman we met in San Antonio on leave two
years ago."
Wayne winced and squeezed his eyes shut. "Jesus...don't bring that up again! I'd
have been fine if you hadn't fed me that goddamned hill hooch that your brother
brought you from home."
Will laughed and took a half-smoked cigar from his shirt pocket, lighting the
tip and inhaling with a sigh. "Man...I have NEVER seen a sight funnier than you
trying to 'get down' with that dirty-dancing disco queen!"
"God, don't remind me!"
"Aw! She took you home and did you up right, didn't she?"
"Yes, but I don't remember much of it." And he hadn't touched another drop of
that moonshine, nor did he ever have more than two beers when he went out after
that. He didn't like not remembering things like that. He didn't like knowing he
was out of control.
"You got the plans all set for tonight?" Wayne asked him, trying to change the
subject. Will glanced at him knowingly but nodded and let it go.
"Yes. We get them up at three and march them out. They can eat MREs on the trail
and fight the insects. We'll sleep out on the trail and then march them back
next morning. Nothing they haven't faced before."
"Riiight..." Wayne agreed, favoring him with that rarely used smile once again.
He was glad Will had been assigned to this camp. They had kept in touch after
Benning and even took leave together twice afterwards. When Wayne had been
chosen for this assignment and he'd arrived, thinking of obstacle course plans
and wondering how he was going to deal with the officer in charge, he'd come
here to have a beer and wait. He'd been shocked as hell when a hand had clamped
down on his shoulder and a stern voice had ordered.
"Don't you salute your superiors, boy?"
He'd jumped up, thinking he'd missed a bar or an oak leaf somewhere on someone
and found himself facing his old friend, Captain William Elias. Only now not a
Captain, but a Major.
"Will!" he'd exclaimed as he'd snapped a salute off. Will wouldn't have demanded
it from him he knew, but there were other officers standing in the room, and
Wayne would not deny him that sign of respect in front of the others, whether
Will cared or not. They had grinned at each other and sat down for a beer and
hours of reminiscing. Will was physically big and mentally outgoing and could be
intimidating in every way possible when he wished. But he was also just a 'good
ole boy' to his friends and didn't sweat the small stuff when it came to rank or
position...unless you pissed him off or talked down to him. Another voice pulled
him back to the present again.
"Hey!"
Both of the men looked up and saw Brad Greengrass walking in the door. The Staff
Sergeant glanced towards the circle of officers, sending a smile towards one of
the female Lieutenants. Will and Wayne glanced at each other meaningfully, and
Brad pulled a chair up to sit facing them. He waved off the beer that Will
offered and took his boonie hat off, revealing thick, stiff black hair.
"Everything set for tonight?" He asked and looked at Will.
"Yeah...Be outside the barracks at oh three hundred sharp."
"Yes sir." Brad grinned.
Will motioned vaguely towards the circle of officers. "That Lieutenant wants to
get in your teepee, Greengrass."
Wayne snorted and Brad shook his head, smiling good-naturedly. "Teepees are the
plains tribes, Will...I'm Ho-Chunk....no teepees."
"Yeah, well, whatever it is, she wants in."
"No way...it goes bad, and I'm the one who gets discharged."
"Nah...Happens all the time..." Will looked at Wayne. "What was the name of that
Captain that had her sights set on you again, Wayne?"
Wayne almost spit his beer out. His head jerked up and he glared at Will.
"Jesus, Will...tell the whole place. And I don't remember!"
Will grinned and looked at Brad. "Oh man...you should have seen it. We were both
at Benning and she was drooling all over muscle man here. Liked to slum-it, I
guess. She could have had any officer she wanted and she was chasing after a
newly promoted Sergeant."
Brad laughed and glanced doubtfully at Wayne. "Don't tell me you..."
"No!" Wayne growled.
"I still don't know why you didn't grab a piece of that. She was fine!"
"Because it's against regulations, bonehead...I like this job, I'm not eager to
get booted."
Will snorted. "All she wanted was some fun, Sneeden. You'd have had no
problems."
"It's still against regs, Will...besides, she wanted me to put on a drill
sergeant's hat and order her to su..." The rest was drowned out in laughter and
Wayne shook his head, smiling faintly.
Will wiped his eyes and sighed. "You have an incredible sense of honor, Sneeden.
More than half the officers I know."
"I'm sure that's not true." Wayne sipped his beer.
"You'd be surprised."
"Well, then...I hope that's not true. It's different if a PFC, who's just
starting out, fucks up, but when an officer does it, then it just pisses me off.
They should know better. It makes us all look bad, not to mention the Army."
"For God's sake, Wayne...we don't have to listen to one of your awful lectures
now, do we?" Brad laughed and Wayne just shook his head. He just didn't
understand why anyone would put their rank at risk like that. Especially after
they'd made the decision to go career.
"Oh...did you get the lectures too?" Will asked Brad, laughing. "I was getting
them all the way back in Ranger training school."
Brad grinned, his black eyes fastening on Wayne. "Christ...that's all I heard on
patrol when we were out on missions. You gotta learn to keep your mouth shut,
pal."
Wayne shot him the middle finger. "There...that quiet enough for you, Brad?"
Brad looked at Will and laughed. Wayne could take a smart-ass, even like one, as
long as they were committed and giving 110%. But put a slacker in his
company...or, god forbid, a whiny and indecisive officer, and Wayne was going to
have a problem...or rather the offending man was going to have the problem.
"What was that comment that that Colonel made on your evaluation for Airborne
graduation?" Will asked, looking at Wayne.
"I don't know...something about how 'a little tact goes a long way'." Wayne
glared and the other two broke into laughs again. They spent the next few hours
laughing over old history. Wayne didn't even mind being the butt of most of the
jokes. He felt comfortable with these two brothers-in-arms, and he felt
comfortable in the army. It was home.
"Hey...remember when you were paired up with that Captain for reconnaissance on
that nighttime raid in Ranger training?" Will asked. When Wayne nodded, Will
went on and grinned at Brad. "No one had had more than two hours of sleep in two
days. The fucking Captain was about as tough as they came and he and Wayne had
to go out and recon the enemy position. It's oh three hundred and dark and
raining. They're vulnerable to attack at any time and they even know someone is
gonna try it. So it's all tense and the Captain is sweating bullets. Wayne here
actually starts singing to himself. What was the song?"
Wayne thought about it. "I think it was Ring of Fire."
Brad rolled his eyes and grimaced. Wayne thought about shooting him the finger
again but resisted. Will continued.
"He really freaked that Captain out, cause when they got back the guy went
straight to the Colonel and said, 'That fucker SANG the whole time we were on
the trail. He thought we were on a fucking moonlight stroll on the beach!'. The
Colonel just shrugged and said Wayne had a cool head and that that wasn't
bad."
"Christ! And then all the guys called me Beach Head for the rest of training.
Thank God that nickname didn't stick with me." Wayne grimaced as the others
laughed. They stayed later than planned and finally left when the officer's
group broke-up and the ranking Colonel shot them a stern look.
Wayne walked back to his quarters feeling better than he had in a long time. He
was exactly where he wanted to be and doing exactly what he wanted to be doing.
Now...if he could just figure out why Corporal Burnett kept finding her way into
his mind, he'd be just fine.
TBC..............
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