Chapter 26

When I got back to the barracks there was a sergeant waiting for me at the front desk. I was the last one back.

“Hello Sergeant. I’m sorry I’m so late. I took the time to reconnoiter the area around the barracks and was delayed by retreat.”

He looked at me and nodded.

“A good reason to miss but since you are the last, you get the left overs.”

I took the last stack of two sheets, one blanket, three towels and wash clothes and the last, very thin, pillow. I walked up the stairs to my room to see my last name on a plate on the door. I opened it and walked in.

After setting things on the bed, I picked up my phone and saw that it was already 08:00. That reminded me to reset the clock to 24 hour military time.

Then I called home.

“Hi Jean.”

“Hi, lover!”

“I got here in one piece and everything looks good. Are you OK?”

“Yes. I didn’t cry on the way home or anything. When I got into the Olds I figured that if I’m going to be an Army wife, I better toughen up. But I still miss you.”

“I miss you too. The trip was boring, but I met the rest of my unit. Met the First Sergeant and met the unit asshole and get this, his name is Cox.”

“Oh no. He’s going to catch hell for that.”

“Don’t think so. He is apparently the top shot in the unit. We’ll see. I gotta go. My clock goes off at 3:45AM. I have a feeling that it’s going to be a long hard day. I love you.”

“I love you. Send me your address when you get a chance.”

“Why? So you can send cookies to the First Sergeant?”

“Maybe! Good night, lover.”

“Good night, Jean. I love you.”

“Me too.”

After doing that, I set the alarm on my phone for 0345 and made my bed with the newly acquired sheets.

The manual the First Sergeant mentioned was in my room on the counter next to the stove top. After taking care of making my bed and putting away the towels and such, I picked it up and sitting on the bed, began to read. It didn’t take long to understand that I was going to need to sharpen my math skills a lot as well as my observational skills.

Calculations on wind and distance had to be made on the fly. I also had to learn how to notice everything in the target area I was assigned to. Every little thing could come into play in order to make a shot. After some time, I had an uncontrollable yawn. I used the pencil I’d been making notes with as a bookmark and closed the book before setting it on the nightstand next to the bed.

I grabbed a towel and wash cloth and headed for the showers. Three of the ten stalls were in use so I took the unused one nearest the door. I set the temperature of the water, jumped in, soaped up, rinsed and jumped out. I dried, wrapped the towel around me and walked back to my room.

Putting on a t-shirt and shorts, I climbed into the bed and after some silent prayers for the protection of Jean and help for myself, I lay down. As thin as that pillow was and as uncomfortable as I thought it was going to be, as soon as my head hit it, I was out. I think I dreamed of Jean and babies again, but don’t remember because my alarm blew most of the dream out of my head at 0345.

I rose, stretched and went to the latrine before hitting the shower again. Back in the room, I brushed my teeth and dressed in my ACU. Checking myself in the mirror to be sure that I was squared away, I walked downstairs to the barracks common area.

The clock on the wall said that it was 0420. I looked at the other men gathered there and said, “First Sergeant said that we were to be ON the training ground and fallen in at 0430. We’ve got ten minutes to assemble and fall in. I suggest we move out.”

Realizing that I was right, everyone fell in around me as I tore ass out the door. The training ground was directly in front of the barracks. It was bordered on all sides by the three other barracks. Last night, I noticed a rough line on the grass that ran parallel to the walkway in front of our barracks. To me that suggested the spot where previous units had lined up often enough to kill the grass. I pointed to it and everyone fell in to my right, with Cox taking his place to my left.

We stood at ease until, at what I guessed was precisely, 0430 First Sergeant Wagner walked out in front of us with a clipboard in hand. He began reading off names and each name answered “Here” in a loud voice. There were four men not present and a staff sergeant was sent to roust them out and send them home.

“I am pleased that you were paying attention to the time on the line. Someone also was observant enough to note the place where previous training units have stood. One or more of you is trying to make me believe you are an alert and smart son of a bitch.”

I didn’t blush, really.

“You are also in the correct formation as you were instructed last night. That’s a good start, now then, we’ve lost four men. Let’s see if we can get that total up to a dozen or so before breakfast.”

With that foreboding another one of the sergeants led us through thirty minutes of physical training. When we were done, the sun was just beginning to light up the eastern horizon. The same sergeant led us on a run of three laps around the training grounds. Suddenly, he took a hard left and went off running down the street at a much faster speed. We took off after him. He ran about a mile to a track, where he stopped us and had us assemble in the center of the grass field and fall in standing at attention. After several minutes, First Sergeant Wagner joined us and had us gather around.

“So far, so good. If you paid attention, you noticed on your run over here, a couple of trucks. There is a load of backpacks waiting for you. Run over there and get one. Move!”

I took off surrounded by several others. I’d seen a couple of trucks parked behind and next to the barracks. I turned to run behind the barracks and noticed several men turning the other way to the closer truck at the side of the barracks. When we were running, we’d gone past each truck three times. One was loaded with backpacks; the other was loaded with duffel bags. I got to the truck with the backpacks, grabbed one and it almost tore my arm out of its socket when it fell to the ground. The thing weighed a ton.

I picked it up and slung it onto my back and ran back to the track where First Sergeant was waiting with two other sergeants. He nodded his approval as thirteen of us lined up with the heavy packs on our backs and formed a line in front of him. Several others joined us and over the course of ten minutes the entire unit was again assemble in formation, facing the First Sergeant.

“I asked this question last night. How can a man be a sniper and not know the components of his uniform or equipment? That goes for your surroundings as well. If you began to read the manual last night, you know that your observational skills can make the difference between a successful mission and a failed one, and failure could make you dead. It would appear that six of you do not know the difference between a backpack and a duffel bag. You six with the duffel bags fall out and return to the barracks with Sergeant Nolan.”

The six looked at each other, defeated, and fell in behind Sergeant Nolan and followed him back to the barracks for the start of their trip back to a more normal MOS.

“That’s ten. Two more to go, maybe more.” He looked gleeful over the other men’s demise. “Close ranks!”

The open spots in the formation disappeared.

“The backpack you carry weighs one hundred and ten pounds. On a mission you will, more time than not, have to carry in, and carry out, everything you will need to complete your mission successfully and get home safely. To finish off today’s PT you will have sixteen and one half minutes to complete a two mile run carrying your backpacks.”

He paused and looked around to gauge the reaction to his order. I stood there awaiting the order to go and from his reaction, First Sergeant Wagner was satisfied that no one automatically headed for the barracks.

“To the track!”

We walked from the grass infield to the track, getting used to the weight of the packs, and formed up on a white line that another sergeant pointed at.

“You have sixteen and one half minutes and two miles between you and washing out!” He held out a stopwatch and called out, “Ready! Go!”

The forty-six of us took off at various speeds. I figured it wasn’t a race to finish first, just to finish in time. It only took about 400 meters before the jackrabbits began to falter. I just got into a rhythm and trotted along. I passed a few and got passed by a few and finished the two mile run in under fifteen and a half minutes.

As I crossed the finish line I kept going for several steps to get out of the way of anyone behind me before I turned towards the grass infield and stood there gasping for air. I had my hands on my hips and kept walking, while others collapsed on the ground. I made my way up the track towards the men that were still running. Several were struggling, so I began to cheer them on. Encouragement in trying times never hurts.

Time was running down and I found myself running, still wearing my backpack, next to two men who were fighting hard to make it. I yelled encouragement to them and kept telling them they could make it. I stayed with them all the way across the finish line. Both of them made it at sixteen minutes and twenty three seconds. They collapsed on the track.

“Oh no! None of that. Stand up and walk around. You made it. Act like you’re proud of it.”

“What are you a fucking cheerleader?” Cox said.

“If that’s what it takes for my unit to succeed, yeah, Dicks.”

“What did you call me?”

“Isn’t that your last name?”

“My last name is Cox!”

“Dicks. Cox. Same thing. Look, you support your team your way and I’ll do mine.”

“Asshole,” he said to me as I walked away from him and towards the two men who I had been supporting to the finish line.

“Cox,” I replied.

“What do you want?” He replied pissed that I’d even talked to him.

“I wasn’t calling your name.”

He came over to me and squared off. I stood my ground and soon there was a small group of men behind me. Then the voice of First Sergeant Wagner was heard loud and clear.

“A-tten-tion!”

We all snapped up straight as boards and froze.

“Cox! You will not belittle a teammate who supports other members of the team.”

“Yes, First Sergeant!”

“O’Dell! Why did you support your weaker team members?”

“Because they’re on my team and someday I may need their support, First Sergeant!”

“The best reason. Are you sure that you are just out of boot?”

“Yes, First Sergeant!”

“Return the backpacks to the truck. Lunch at 1200. Back on the training ground at 1300! Dismissed!”

I turned and headed back to the truck and found myself joined by several men. At the truck, one of them grabbed my pack and took it off my back before throwing it up into the truck.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Anytime. So, tell me. Is it true that you’ve never shot in competition?”

“Yeah. I just hunted with my dad and got to be a pretty good shot. Shooting for food is good practice. My Dad used to tell me about the Shoshone Indian name for a bad hunter.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Vegetarian.”

He and the others around us broke out laughing.

“I’m Wally Snyder. I’ve shot in competition a lot. If you need any advice or help this afternoon at the range let me know.”

“If I need any help, I’ll come a running.”

We all went back to the barracks and hit the showers. While in the shower, I took the time to shave my head. Since Jean had done it, it just seemed natural to do. Back in my room, I still had time before lunch, so I pulled out my laptop and booted it up. After connecting to the barracks wi-fi I thought the poor machine was going to explode. I had been flooded with emails. There were two from Mom. One from James. Thirty-six from Jean. Thirty-six. I was gone for two days!

I opened the ones from my mom first. Both were basically I love you and I’m proud of you and don’t get hurt. I answered them as sweetly as I could. The one from James got my attention. It basically said that snipers were almost as competitive as Seals and Rangers. That competitiveness could lead to men being assholes and potentially dangerous. He said men could lose sight of the mission in favor of their personal scores.

I answered back and told him that I’d already met that guy. I also told him about the PT test that morning and that we were going to shoot this afternoon. I reminded him to keep my family safe. Then I waded into the emails from Jean.

They were what you’d expect. I love you. I miss you. A lot of sexual stuff. She must have had her finger on the send button because eleven of the emails were copies of one email and sixteen were of another. Her last email gave me pause.

She said that Trent and his friends had come to the club with two big guys in suits. She said they looked like guys from The Godfather. They met with the dancers and reiterated that the girls would be required to tip the house 30% of their dance tips. They were also reminded that they would now have to pay rent for their tables and mirrors in the dressing room. It was explained that it was like a hairdresser. They rented the chair and space in the salon and the dancers were going to be renting their space in the dressing room.

The girls who didn’t have special contracts with Mr. A were going to be required to do a certain number of lap and VIP room dances each shift or they would have to pay a penalty. Mention was also made about parties and what percentage of party earning went to the club.

She said that Manny and Dom were still on the job, but were acting very edgy.

I answered and asked her to be careful and asked if Barbara was coming to the club with her. Trent tried to ban her but Jean’s contract allowed for personal security. Then the new security girl, Angel, showed up in place of Barbara and Trent wasn’t happy about that. Angel, it seems had an attitude towards assholes. I finished the email with a reminder that I loved her and that she should do whatever she had to do to be safe.

After those replies, it was time for lunch. I shut down the laptop and stowed it away. Then I went to the latrine and down the stairs to the common room. Several guys were standing around and when I came into the room they all approached me and let me know that we were walking over together.

“O’Dell? What’s your first name?”

“Paul. And your name?”

“Roger Hynds, with a ‘y’ not an “i”. My friends call me Rog. I wanted to thank you again for the support this morning. That few seconds made a huge difference. I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything out of the norm. We’re in the same unit and that implies a bond and loyalty to the others in the unit.”

“What you did this morning had nothing to do with unit loyalty. You don’t know me. Or the other guys you were supporting.”

I pointed at the patch on my sleeve.

“US Army, Rog. What more do I need to know?”

We walked and joked the rest of the way. We talked about our homes and wives or girlfriends. The group walked into the mess hall right at 12:00 on the dot, got in the line and went through quickly. We took our assigned seats at each table. Cox was giving me the evil eye the entire time. I ignored him as much as I could but when I did catch him staring, I just smiled and blew him a kiss. That peace offering did not to seem to be taken well. On the way out, Cox made a comment about teaching the private a lesson at the range and I chuckled.

“What’s so funny, private?” he said, making a point of my low rank.

“Nothing Cox. There is nothing funny about shooting with a purpose. I take it very seriously. Where I come from we learned from the local indigenous folks that you measure your value as a person and a warrior by strength of those who oppose you and whom you defeat. I just hope that you are worth defeating. It would bring me no honor to defeat a weak opponent.”

I turned and stood still with several men around me. Behind me I heard Cox spitting out, “We’ll see, private.”

He smirked and walked away. I noticed no one accompanied him. We spent about ten minutes back in the barracks before we fell out into formation on the training ground. There were now thirty-eight of us. Eight men didn’t make the run time. The formation was shrinking way faster than I thought it would. So far I hadn’t been challenged too much. Everything seemed to be difficult but doable.