Part 4 is finally here! I'm so sorry for taking so long to get this part up. I recently just started my Military Vehicle Technician Course. It is a pretty heavy course, so I've been in the books quite a bit. I also have had a hard time getting access to internet. I had to move shacks and so I finally just received my permanent internet connection today.Remember, this is first draft, with very little editing. Expect mistakes, expect some sloppy writing.But here it is. I hope you enjoy,Cuyler CallahanWarning: If you are offended by swearing, and some graphic scenes and scenarios, don’t read! *******************************************************************************************
Soldier Qualification 06 December 2009 Part 4The second weekend into Soldier Qualification my birthday popped up. It's funny how my birthday will pop up. I usually forget about it until the day it arrives. And usually it is because somebody will mention the date, and then I say, "oh, it's May 30th." That is how it goes.And even though I really don't care much about my birthday, for some reason I love to let people know its my birthday. I do it all sneaky like. Just as a casual mention or something. I don't expect anything. I don't want gifts or anything. I just have this instinct to let people know its my birthday.Of course, they will sing me a birthday song, and then I hate it. I curse myself for letting people know. But whatever the reason I let people know, it happens every year.This year I let it out a few days earlier that my birthday would be on the Saturday. We all planned to get smashed at the mess. Now that I wore the uniform, I had to take all the responsibilities of it, which meant, I could expect some bruises Saturday night. None of my comrades let me forget what to expect.****I walked into the mess. A red lazy boy and couch set sat in front of a large 50" flat screen T.V. A bunch of infantry guys sat on it watching Family Guy. I grabbed a Budweiser from the bar and went out back to the patio to have a cigarette with Hillman and Fauker.Fauker is a Canadian Citizen now, though he hasn't always been. His native land is Iran. We like bugging him about being a hairy Persian and Iranian. I like using the joke that he is secretly building nukes in his dads garage. Fauker is a good guy and takes it all with good fun. He is hairy as fuck though. Like a black bear rug. This is another point we harass him about. Oh, and we play on his name and call him Fucker.During Soldier Qualification, the two main guys I usually hung out with ended up as Private Fauker, Hillman, and Corporal Fider. Some how we all drifted together. "Hey boys," I said as I lighted a dirty dart in my mouth.Hillman blew out some smoke and took a drink of his beer. I later learned that I don't enjoy Hillman on beer. But at the moment, I had know idea how regular his behavior on the malty goodness was."Fucking hate this shit hole," Hillman said."Me and you both," Fauker agreed."I don't mind it," I said. And really, compared to the unorganized mess that PRETC back in Borden was, I quite enjoyed Meaford. The food could improve though."Your fucked Cali," Hillman said. "Oh and happy birthday." He put his beer down and walked up facing my left arm."Fuck," I said. "So it begins.""Yaya," Hillman said; his signature saying I constantly tried to mimic; can't be done, it is pure Hillman. He let a fist loose on my shoulder."My turn." Fauker took a spot facing my right arm. "You ready for this Cali.""Not like that would matter to you Fucker," I said."Nope." Fauker said, hauling off on my shoulder.And so it continued all night. We drank more, smoked more, and the course took turns hauling off their best hits on my shoulder.****"Hey, take this," I told Hillman."What is it?""Well you told me your an east coast boy, so I bought you a shot of Screech.""That isn't the real shit, but whatever I'll do it," Hillman said. His eyes lazily wondered around, and his eyelids were half shut. He stood up, wobbling a bit, and slammed down the shot. “Ya, not the real shit man.""Well, how am I suppose to know," I said. " I'm from Alberta.""Ah fuck," Hillman quickly said. His hand went to his mouth, then he heaved. Vomit began seeping through his hand. He ran away to a bathroom.
I guess the guy can't hold his booze, I thought. I found Fauker. "Holy shit man, Hillman just barfed into his hand, got some on the floor.""Fuck man, figures. I was on course with him during CET. He isn't the best guy to drink with. Gets out of control." I could sense a bit of drunkenness in Fauker, but nothing to bad."Meh, I'm ready to keep drinking." I wondered away and sat down beside Private Alex She wore the Engineers badge- a beaver- though was not in anyway combat. She was a map maker; a geo tech. But she was army and so she had to complete SQ like the rest of us."Hey ladies," I said, speaking to Alex, Myre, and Stew, the three females on course."He Cali. It's your birthday isn't it?" Alex questioned."Ya, don't we get to hit you and shit?" Stew asked."Fuck," I said."I get first hit, he's my fire team partner," Myre claimed. Yes, my fire team partner ended up as Knight and Myre. Myre, the girl that dumped my dress uniform on the ground. I learned from my other military experiences that fate will always make my fire team partner somebody that I don't get entirely along with.Lucky for me, I'm good at making do. Myre wasn't that bad. Myre lined up her fist with my shoulder. I expected a good punch. She is a stalky girl, and has some power behind her. When she hit, I laughed. I drank my eighth Bud already and I felt pretty good. "Fuck you," she said, mocking anger. She hauled off on me again. I laughed again. She punched again."Hey, its my turn," Stew said. She pushed Myre out of the way. Another stalky girl, she laid out some good punches again."Okay, my turn." Alex stood up. I didn't expect anything to great. Alex was the skinny girl on course, and didn't seem to strong. Nonetheless she surprised me with some decent hits."I'm going to be in some fucking pain tomorrow ladies." I rubbed my shoulders. They didn't hurt much now, but I knew that after the booze wore off, I'll be wanting to down some Airborne Candy; Tylenol.I made my rounds to Anerson and Knight. They gave me their punches. I found Fider outside with a beer bottle he used for a spitter. This guy showed me the art of chewing tobacco. Fider was the only Military Police Officer on course. As such, the staff bugged him. Combat Arms hate MPs usually. MPs usually hate Combat Arms. Combat Arms like to cause shit, and so MPs have to stop drinking their coffee and investigate.Hillman stood outside with Fider. He had another beer in his hand. "Give me a dip Fid.""No Fuck. Get your own," Fider said. 'No Fuck' and 'Yup' the way Fider said them were signature. I can't ever get it right like Fider."Come on man, fucking Canex gave me old shit. Feels like I got fucking wood chips in my mouth.""Fuck." Fider handed over his tin to Hillman.“What’s up boys?" I asked. "So that 'fake' Screech do you in eh," I laughed at Hillman."Fuck man," Hillman said, spitting out excess dip, " its fake. I always puke. Fuck you man." Hillman wobbled, and his eyelids were almost shut. He was fucked. But he didn't give up, I'll give him that. "Fid give me a dip.""No fuck. I just gave you a dip.""Come on Fid. A dip." Fider ignored him. "Cali, give me a dip.""You have a dip in your mouth right now," I said. No fucking way I'm giving him dip to waste just cause he has an intoxicated mind."Cali give me a light?""Why?""A smoke?""The fuck man?" I asked annoyed. He was drunk. "I'll see you later Fid.""Don't leave me with him. He's fucked," Fid begged."Fuck no man. It's my birthday. I'm heading to bed." I walked away and said good night to the other troops.****Just as I fought off the spinning room that going to bed drunk produces, I found myself in a bit of a fight. Fauker sat on top of me, and hauled off on me with some wicked punches.With every punch he yelled, "EME." I don't know how many times he hit me.Hillman stood to my side and hauled off on my shoulder. He yelled "EME" with every punch as well.Fauker didn't aim for my shoulder. He aimed at my face. "EME! EME! EME! EME! EME!" He went on, laughing insanely. I covered my face with my arms. "One more for EME. One for the Queen. One for Canada. One for your birthday. One for the Horse. And one for me." I thought he finally stopped.I was wrong. He continued, yelling "EME" still. I had to fight back. I pushed him off me, then fought off Hillman."Fuck, I'm going to bed," Hillman slurred. He left my room. Fauker shared my room along with my three other room mates.Fauker went to his bed. I thought he would go to sleep now.The room was dark. The lights off. The clock read three o'clock. Five minutes after the attack on me ended, I felt something grab my ankle and try to pull me out of bed. I kicked somebody in the face. Fauker continued his attack again. He let go of my ankle.I reached to the floor on the left side of my bed and grabbed my military issue green L-shaped flash light. I flashed it around and found Fauker leopard crawling on the floor towards me again. When I flashed the light at him, he stopped and pretended to hide."So this you smashed out of your mind." I said to him. He didn't answer, he just started laughing like a little kid playing hide and go seek. A kid that thought if he stood very still and didn't look at me, he could hide. Every time I flashed the light at him, he stopped. When I took it away, he continued his crawling to me.Eventually he lost interest in me and crawled out of our room into the lit hallway. I heard him out there, pissing off people. "Fauker, get out of our room." and "Fuck off Fuker."Then I heard a real loud commotion. "MOVE YOUR FUCKING ASS YOU WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!" It sounded like Hillman. I thought he went to bed, but the guy ended up surprising me a lot. I went outside to take a look at what was going on.Hillman stood over top of Fauker who leopard crawled down the hallway, yelling at him. Hillman pretended to be a Sergeant, yelling at his troops. "MOVE YOU LAZY FUCK. FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT.""SHUT THE FUCK UP!" somebody from down the hall yelled at them. I went back into my room and went back to bed.I'm not sure what happened really after that. I think he passed out on the floor under his bead, by his recollection. I found my flashlight still on the next morning. Fauker had woken up earlier and went for breakfast. He came into the room in his combats. "Morning Cali," Fauker said in his deep voice."Morning." I rubbed my arms. They ached and felt really, really, bruised."Lets look at your arms bro." Fauker walked up to me and lifted my shirt. "Holy shit," he said slowly, emphasizing his amazement.Hillman came into the room. "Yo, let me look."Anerson woke up in the bed beside mine. "Whats the fucking noise?""Fuck Cali. Thats fucking sick." Hillman looked at Anerson. "Check this out."Anerson sleepily stumbled over from his bed, running his right hand through his blonde hair. "Fuck." From the top of my shoulder to midway down my upper arm was blue, yellow, and brown. "Thats some greasy bruising man," He said in his nasally voice."Cali took it like a man," Hillman said."I even beat him again last night," Fauker chirped in.I counted my punches as I received them. "You guys hit me over three hundred times last night." The guys started swearing."He took it like a man for sure." Fid had come in and was standing behind the other three. He had a spit bottle in his hand. The guy chewed like a champ.****I began to realize that a good chunk of the good stories that are worth telling in the military start when there is very little to no light out. Darkness is something that allows for every aspect of a story to become exaggerated. Our senses are more responsive. That’s how my morning started on Monday, June First.I stood out on the parade square in Full Fighting Order. I had my helmet, tact vest, flack vest, and ballistic eye wear on my body. I suppose it wasn't FFO as we didn't have our rifles.The air left a very damp and cold residue on my skin. I just wanted to lay in my bed and dream longer. Of course, though, we learned it was best to wake at about 0400. That gave us time to get ready. Now at 0500 I stood in ranks, waiting for our staff, wishing I could sleep longer.Warrant Kellog and Sargent Moy came out in their FFO. We stood in two ranks. " Good morning for some fucking PT, eh troops," Warrant Kellog stated.We all wanted to say no, but said, "Yes Warrant!" anyways."I got some good shit for you this morning boys," Moy said. He had a hint of mischief in his your-all-worthless-thudfucks voice today."March them over Sergeant," Kellog said.Sergeant Moy took his spot facing us, center the ranks. "Steady up troops." We stood at ease, hands behind our backs. "Course, Attention!" We came to attention. "Turn to your right in twos, right turn!" We did a right turn. "By the left, quick march!" We began marching.Sergeant Moy marched us to a foot ball field.
Fuck, raced through my mind. He halted us in the center of the field."Okay, spread out along the fucking center line, troops, facing the north." Kellog said. I could sense the 'I'm the king' attitude in Warrant Kellog. He usually was that way, unless talking to him on a private level.We did as the king said, all looking at each other, swearing under our breath. We all knew that something bad had us in it's cross hairs. We just didn't know what craftiness raced through Moy's and Kellog's brains at night when they drank together at the Sergeant’s and Warrant's Mess."Fucking Today troops!," Moy’s whine boomed. "Okay now get on your fucking bellies.""Tabanac," Private Vexieu, an early thirties, blonde, french guy, who lay beside me, swore in french. On the other side of me lay an older, bald, french guy in his late forties, wearing glasses instead of ballistics; Private Berret."You know they got something bad planned eh," I said to Vexieu. He looked back at me and laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh."Okay troops," Moy said, "we have a problem. We are under heavy enemy machine gun fire. We are pinned down. We have to get to the other side of this field, where there is protection enough for us to fire back. Get over there, keep your fucking asses down or I'll make you come back to the beginning, cause you died, and I'm gracious enough to give you another life. I am God. NOW MOVE YOUR FUCKING ASSES! MOVE IT MOVE IT MOVE IT!"We all started crawling as fast as we could on our bellies to the other side of the field. How hard could it be right? How wrong was I. By the time I reached the touch down line I was out of breath, and almost the last person to cross."Okay, troops, we got another problem." Kellog talked to us now. I could hear the giddy giggle of a warrant who was fucking around with his troops in his voice.
Fuck, ran through my mind. I figured it would run through my mind a shit load more times before PT ended."Troops, somebody in supply is a thudfuck. They told us to bring only sixty fucking rounds per person into this battle, although I clearly fucking said that we needed more. Of course, now they decided to give us more fucking rounds, but as we all know their chicken shits and fucktards, they are making us go back to fucking friendly territory to retrieve our fucking rounds. Do you troops know where friendly territory starts?" Warrant Kellog sounded way to happy.Anerson decided to give it a shot and save our asses from more torture. We all knew it wouldn't help us one fucking bit. "Warrant, I think friendly territory starts ten feet away.""Are you a fucking tard," Moy said. "Center line is where we became pinned down. No, see, this is why your not in fucking charge of shit Anerson. Friendly territory starts at the other end of the fucking foot ball field, at the other touch down line. Oh, and because Supply doesn't give a rats ass about us, and gave us sixty rounds each only, we ran out, and now there is one of us dead, per every two people. I'll select which one of you thud fucks is the dead one." Moy went down the line and began selecting people to be dead, and picked the ones that would drag the dead person. When he got to me, I knew I was dead. I felt bad for Private Berret and Vexieu."I'm sorry guys." I laid on my back and got ready to be dragged through dog shit and wet grass."Okay, when I say, you will switch with one of your fucking partners, and then you'll help drag them. If I see the fucking dead helping their partners, you will start back at the fucking beginning," Kellog instructed. "Now MOVE YOUR ASSES MOVE IT MOVE IT MOVE YOU FUCKING SHITS!"Vexieu and Berret began dragging me. I felt so bad. They both where small french guys, and Berret was almost fifty. I heard, "tabanac est te and coleis," under the frustrated breaths of my two french partners."Come on Callahan, help us," Vexieu pleaded. I gave in and started pushing with my feet."Fucking Callahan! Don't fucking help them or I'll boot fuck your ass back to the fucking beginning!" Sergeant Moy bent down and yelled, spit flying, into my face."Yes Sergeant.” That is all I could say. I lay limp. More french curses entered my ear."Okay, switch," Kellog said. I switched with Berret. Vexieu and I pulled him. I easily pulled him at first, being fresh. But I quickly wore out. My breathing went ragged. I tried to sit up more to pull him."Keep your ass down Callahan! On your belly, or I'll kill you and send you back to the beginning, along with your buddies!" Moy must have eyes in the back of his head. He could tell every time I tried cheating.I continued on my belly. Vexieu, pulling from the beginning had a hard time keeping up. I pulled as hard as I could, trying to give him a break. Two thirds of the way, Kellog yelled, "switch!" I heard the relief in Vexieu's breath.Berret and I pulled. I felt myself slowly start to fade. I lost any real sense of motivation and just continued on in sheer habit of the motion of pulling. My back ached, my arms vibrated, my sweat entered my eyes, burning them.As we got closer to the end line, I heard others who already reached it cheering us on. Finally Berret and I gave the final heave and landed Vexieu on the other side of the line. I stood up, my head spinning."Okay, good fucking job troops," Kellog rewarded us. It's funny how in the military, all it takes is a compliment from our superiors to feel like the world is ours. Then, just for their own enjoyment, they take the world from us. "Now troops, we have our fucking ammunition we worked so hard to get. However, we need to get back to the fucking fight."
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."Now troops, we are going to have a competition," Moy said. "You will organize into your sections. You will have one dead person that your whole section will help drag to the center field line. The first section to win will be able to take the front of the line when we march for the field Wednesday morning." Seemed like a good prize to me. When I'm at the front of the line, I don't have to run to catch up when the line begins to slinky because fucktards don't know how to keep up with the guy in front of them.We organized into our sections. Moy went around and selected somebody to be dead. Pru was picked as our dead person. We were all glad. Pru weighed a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. A tiny guy. "OKAY, BEGIN!" Kellog yelled.I crawled as fast as I could up ahead of the section. Hillman and Fauker took Pru and passed him up to Knight and Sherri. Knight and Sherri passed them to Alex and myself. We passed him up to Anerson and Myre. I began climbing up ahead again. The others already moved up and were passing Pru up, continuing the rotation.I was able to pass Pru three times. But I couldn't keep up with the others, and eventually they passed me up and all I could do was focus on getting myself across the line before the other sections did. Myre, being a big girl, sat in the same boat as me.I crawled ahead. I felt a rumble in my stomach. Darkness entered my mind as I saw blackness start to close in from the sides. I continued the motions, robotically. All I knew was to continue moving forward. Vomit entered my mouth, and I hardly realized it. I spit it out and continued. I didn't feel any pain, my mind went black. I couldn't see, I just knew to continue moving forward. My hearing began to fade.Before it faded I heard, "lets go get them. We can still win." Then my hearing was gone. My senses left. I all knew was to continue forward. Time seemed to stand still. I just followed the motions. I won't lie, I'm not the best at PT in the army. Compared to lots of civilians I'd do good, bit in the army, I'm at the bottom of the list. I'm good enough to pass the fitness tests.We go for an average of five kilometers on any given run. Sometimes more. I always finish the runs, I always run the whole run. Though I will admit, I'm usually at the back, plugging along. I can finish the PT the military puts in front of me, just not at the same pace they sometimes wish. I won't give up though, thats one thing I won't do. I do excel at the ruck marches though. I have the big build, I can carry lots of weight when I'm walking. Load me up.Suddenly I felt somebody grab my arms. They flipped me over. The began dragging me. Then I realized, I wasn't dead. So I helped them. I pushed along until we passed the finish line. We won. It took about a minute before my senses came back. I saw again, heard again, and felt again."Good job One Section," Kellog said to us in a very enthusiastic voice. "Now that is team work. That is what I like to see." Warrant Kellog gave us back our world. Knight and Anerson were the ones to jump and grab me, two of my other section mates had grabbed Myre."OKAY! Listen here!" Moy said. "That was simply leopard crawling. A basic skill all soldiers in the army must be good at. There will be times when that is all you do. I've found myself in situations over seas where if I did anything but leopard crawl I would die. And it lasted for several hours. I've had to drag my wounded buddies to safety like I had you do here, but I had to do it by myself. Now line up, two ranks."We all lined up. I still felt out of it. I wanted to vomit again, but held it in. Sergeant Moy marched us off. I barely kept up at a walk. Private Care, a young shy guy, but very responsible and liked learning talked to me, keeping me going as I tried to get all my sense back.Pushing his glasses up, he said, "Come on Callahan. Hey you know Sergeant Moy has been in seven explosions and on three back to back tours to Afghanistan. The guy is a machine.""Fuck," I squeezed out."Ya, he's been stitched back together many times."All I could say was, "Fuck.""Yep," Care agreed, pushing up his glasses.****After a nice breakfast, I sat in our classroom in FFO. Sergeant Song stood at the front of the class in his custom bought fighting gear.
I can't wait to get some goochy kit like that. He instructed us on the IAs and Stoppages of the C-6 Light Machine Gun. The words Light Machine Gun didn't fool me. I knew from experience the thing was a heavy mother fucker. But compared to say a fifty, the weapon was a light support gun.Sergeant Song walked over to a garbage at the side of the class room and spit some chew juice into the bag. He looked over at us then said, "Private Hillman, how are you feeling today?"Hillman sat in his chair, his eyes all droopy. He looked half asleep like the rest of us in the classroom, though his head sat on his shoulders, tilted to the side like a real dopey dog, looking at his master. "Huh," Hillman grunted out.Speaking to Hillman like he was a cute dog Sergeant Song said, "Hey boy, are you happy, you want a stick." Sergeant Song tilted his head to the side mimicking Hillman. Then he tilted it the other way, keeping up the baby talk. "You want stick boy? Do you? Do You?" Head tilted again. "Want to go for a ride?" Tilting again. "In the car?" Tilting. "Go to town?" Tilting. "In the car?" Tilting. "Want your belly scratched?"Hillman picked up the joke and quickly sat up straight. He looked at Sergeant Song straight on, no tilt to his head. “That’s all right Sergeant, I'm good."Sergeant Song tilted his head one more time and used his baby voice. "You sure?""Yes Sergeant.”We all laughed hysterically at Hillman. He laughed as well. The scenario woke us all up. It's moments like these that will always stick with us for the rest of our lives. And the funny thing about the military, is the people who get picked on for something- by our staff who we respect- enjoy it the most.Anerson loved getting called a Fuck Face by Master Corporal Sanders. Hillman loved his Cute Dog scenario by Sergeant Song.Later I received the nickname Tommy Boy from Sergeant Mcgyverson, inspired by the Tommy Boy movie which has Callahan's Break Pads. Fauker today uses the nick name the most.Fauker enjoyed it when the staff called him Fucker, though he doesn't enjoy it when we always called him that, though a little chirping gets a laugh out of him as long as we don't over do it, and it's just his original buddies from SQ. Newcomers better not use it, or he gets upset.Ever body has their little thing that the staff like to pick on them about, or call them. We all enjoy it. It is a symbol given to us by people who have been in the shit, experiencing what we aspire to experience ourselves. Civilians won't ever understand it, and we don't expect them too. All we can say to them is, "Fucking civvies.”*******************************************************************************************I hope you enjoyed this story. If you liked it, don't forget to register with my website and post your comments.
