The next morning, after wake up and breakfast, he joined the rest of his platoon in the armory to prepare equipment for the march. With him was Johnathan Jones, buddy of his that he met in basic training. He had blond hair and blue eyes, was a few months younger than Chuck, an a few centimeters shorter. Chuck had learned Jonathan was from Chicago, which had become part of the US again in 1958. The armory was stocked with cutting edge armor and weaponry. He inspected the M27, which was an assault rifle conceptually based off the M16 but with a short-stroke gas system, adjustable stock, and more modular components than its predecessor. Each magazine contained 30 rounds of 7.62x51 mm armor piercing bullets with a tungsten carbide tip. But the real improvement of the new assault rifle was the optics. The gun had hybrid sights which could be brought up and flipped down from the barrel with a simple switch. The first, smaller component was a 2X optical sight. In front of that was an 8X sight, and when both were combined it created 16X zoom. It also had a small laser rangefinder that displayed exactly how many meters to a target, allowing him to accurately notch in ranges in the gun. In addition, a night vision attachment could be affixed in front of both of the sites, but that required two screws, and was bulky, so it couldn't be moved to the side of the gun and had to be manually attached and removed.
The body armor was also improved from the previous generation, and designed much less to prevent penetration from bullets than to provide protection from cuts and cushioning from concussions. It had a stiff but flexible outer shell that covered the chest, arms, legs, and groin, and inner padding. It came with breathable gloves to that provided scratch resistance, and boots designed both for comfort in long walks and to minimize the risk of ankle sprains as much as possible. It also came with a lightweight helmet with plenty of room for the clear plastic glasses that came with it, and room for a full cloth facemask, such that when worn, the only part of a soldier's skin exposed would be the top of the nose.
This was the general equipment for the force. Because the M27 was modular, all the new small arms shared components. Some soldiers were carrying the gun modified to be designated marksman rifle that shot 12.7×99mm rounds and had a 10 round magazine, and others were carrying the gun modified to be a squad automatic weapon that could accept box magazines. Also, a few man-portable miniguns were being taken along, but probably not more than one per platoon, as they were heavy affairs that took two people to set up, and would require having one soldier just to carry the ammunition. The miniguns fired 7.62x51 mm rounds just like the assault rifles, and support infantry carried M27 carbines. Since the IBIS walker machine guns fired 12.7×99mm rounds, and pistols were ineffective against demons, that meant that really, ammunition-wise, the whole army only needed to carry those two sizes of ammunition. He finished suiting up, and loaded the required 10 magazines and stuffed them into his vest, and packed the sundry items he was required to pack into his backpack. He also had a standard issue knife, though it was more as a tool than as a last-ditch weapon, and he didn't carry a pistol, as a handgun would be little use against the kind of enemy he would soon have to fight. After he finished packing up, he took out a map and a metric ruler. Jonathan saw him.
"How far do we have to go?" asked Jonathan.
"Well, it's about 5000 kilometers from Cordoba to Borborema as the crow flies. Also, were this peacetime, we could be there three days by car. But, this isn't a mobile force, all told, and we aren't mobile infantry. Besides, the United States Army is in no rush to get to Borborema. The Gate to Hell has been there for 19 years, and it isn't going anywhere soon."
"So how far do WE have to go?"
"Give me a few minutes," said Chuck, scratching his head. He took out a notepad and pen and added the distances up.
"Let's see..." said Chuck. "The plan is to go from Cordoba to Curitiba, then up past Aracatuba to Rio Verde, then from Barreiras to Bananeiras and down to Borborema. All told, that's just under 6,000 kilometers."
Jonathan whistled. "It's like the Oregon Trail."
"Longer," said Chuck, taking out another map of the United States and measuring. "From Independence, Missouri to Salem, Oregon is 3000 kilometers. Our trip will be like walking the Oregon Trail and then walking back again. But there is some good news."
"What's that?" asked Jonathan.
"It's 2,200 kilometers to Curitiba. Some of that we will have to walk, but most of that trip we can ride trucks, trains, or carts. Once we're at Curitiba we'll have to walk the entire way, but from Curitiba it's 3,800 kilometers to Borborema."
"Great, it's like a walk to the store," said Jonathan sarcastically.
"It's not great news, sure," said Chuck. "But it's a good bit better than actually having to walk the whole way."
"Well, then I'd better pack something to do," said Jonathan, making sure to pack his harmonica with the rest of his things.
"It had better be something else then just a harmonica," said Chuck. "Even your harmonica playing gets annoying after a while."
Jonathan laughed, and then gave a high, then three low notes on the harmonica.
"You could take along a huge guitar and accompany me as minstrel," he joked.
"No, with all this..." Chuck patted his backpack. "...I don't think I'd want to carry an extra two or three kilograms. Maybe I could accompany you on the cowbell."
Jonathan laughed.
"But seriously," said Chuck. "I got another history book I'll probably read on the way to Curitiba."
"You and your history books," said Jonathan.
"Well, I would be in college studying history right now, if I hadn't been drafted."
Chuck Horner sobered at the thought, and Jonathan noticed.
"I'd probably be in college too, if not for the draft," Jonathan said. "I'm not sure what I'd be studying. Probably music or religious studies or something." He was silent for a moment. "But hey, look on the bright side. At least you'll get to see a lot of the world. And it won't be the world flying by at 40 kilometers an hour. It'll be the world going by at 40 kilometers a day, so you can really, really get a good look at what South American farmland looks like."
"Oh sure, I'm sure I'll become the best historian in the world for my accurate descriptions of farmland."
"You know it!" joked Jonathan. "Now get your maps all packed up or we'll be late for inspection."