OK this story just came to me. I have a screen shot in my room that features Lonnie all slutted out in her "uniform" and me being former military, I had to think 'tuck your tags in Lonnie!" at the image. Not to mention several other military complaints about her posture etc. so... Lonnie gets the worst day of boot!
DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Not yours. If they are yours, my birthday is coming up soon!
Another Day Another Dollar
"Dogtags, Henderson!" the hiss came from an angry looking cadet with her oversized and hideously ugly military issue glasses. Cadet Henderson rolled her eyes as she shoved the metal tags down the front of her shirt and ran out the door. Before she could even put her foot down the same cadet hissed "cover!" at her. Frantically trying to get her BDU cap on straight, and button her cargo pockets and ensure that she had a full canteen, Cadet Henderson was frazzled and stressed in her second week of school at the Naval Academy.
The first summer at the academy was essentially boot camp both in the activities the new cadets did, and in the way the professors treated them. Cadet Henderson had successfully navigated the first week, which by all accounts was the most difficult physically and emotionally – not to mention the most boring. Now that they were beginning their second week of training, the cadets would be expected to begin going through training exercises. This morning, however, held the one training event that every warrior in the UEO military, and the US military before had dreaded since they found out they were joining a branch of the military: the gas chamber.
While most of the cadets listened attentively to the chiefs explaining how their masks worked, and what was about to happen, Henderson took the time to gaze wistfully at the male cadet in front of her. "It's a sad state of things," she thought, "when I start thinking of males and females instead of boys and girls!" This Cadet Ford standing in front of her was cute. I mean, he's way too into this whole military career thing. He'll probably rise right through the ranks and have no possible love life... but still.... God he's perfect!
By the time Lonnie stopped daydreaming about her illustrious career with Cadet Ford, all of the cadets were lining up in a single file line. Their feet were shoulders width apart, and their hands on the small of their backs. Parade Rest. Stare straight ahead. Don't speak, don't laugh, don't move... good thing Cadet Ford was still in front of her; she could stare at the back of his head for hours.
Hours she did not have. In fact she had about five minutes before she and nine other cadets were herded into the small brick building. "Put your masks on." The drill instructor was barking instructions at them. Panicking now, she fumbled with the strap and didn't have her mask completely on within ten seconds. "Stop. You're dead." She continued fumbling with the mask while the tear gas poured into the room. It misted the cadets while the chief yelled at her, "I said 'stop! You're dead!' now stop!" she held her mask limply in one hand while grasping her chest with the other. "Breathe!" they were instructed. Lonnie simply stood there crying as the tear gas inflamed her lungs and eyes. The space right above her nose burned like someone was holding a burning match to it. The chief was suddenly in her face. "There is a reason we tell you not to pluck your eyebrows. Stings, don't it?" she barely even choked out her "Aye aye chief," before she began to retch.
Hours passed – or maybe it was only a single minute, she couldn't quite tell. Finally, all of the cadets were instructed to take their masks off and breath the tear gas into their lungs. They had to turn around, and take several breaths of air. Everyone began choking and coughing horribly. Another female cadet in the room vomited. Henderson touched her face. Immediately, she began crying. Any place the cadets wiped off the sweat would immediately begin burning worse than before. Anyone who made the mistake of rubbing or touching their eyes could no longer open them.
Finally, the cadets were allowed to put their masks back on, and walk out of the gas chamber. Flapping their arms to get rid of any extra gas on their uniforms, they stumbled one after another into the fresh air outside. It was fortunate for Henderson that Ford was right in front of her, or else she might have run out of the chamber, but with his military baring, he walked with thirty inch steps calmly out of the room preventing Henderson from running into the tree that took out so many cadets before her.
The cadets were taken back to their dorms and given half an hour to shower and wash their uniforms before their chow formation. Henderson and all the other female cadets threw their dirty uniforms in the washer and quickly dressed again in clean clothing. While they waited on the washers, they relaxed just a little. "We did it!" Cadet Logan exclaimed, "we did it and we don't have to do it again!" she punctuated her remarks by yanking the laces on her boots as tight as possible and tying them.
Henderson smiled. "yeah. The things we do for another dollar."