Soldier Qualification Serial 25 November 2009 Part 2

To recap on what has happened so far in the story.I have gone through a morning of staff yelling at my comrades and myself, a girl dumping my dress uniform in the dirt, and a general kit inspection. I entered the bus and was sent on my way to CFB Meaford.Warning: If you are offended by swearing, and some graphic scenes and scenarios, don’t read!The continuation follows:*******************************************************************************************Soldier Qualification 25 November 2009 Part 222 May 09, FridayBEEP!BEEP!BEEP!BEEP! I snapped up in bed, then quickly reached over and shut off my alarm. "Fuck me," 0500 hours stared me in the face. It's nothing I'm not used to, but for some reason when I'm on course, five o'clock seems like,"to fucking early". We have some sayings in the army when we have to get up early: " O dark O'clock, and O dark stupid."My comrades in my room decided that I would have the room alarm clock. We got up, shaved, and threw on our combats. The staff told us when we arrived in Meaford we would be getting all our kit. Technically our course didn't start until the 25th which was the coming up Monday. Our day began.***"Don't smile at me," Sargent Anglis said. His rock hard face echoed in his voice. I stood still, wiping the smile off my face. A flash blinded me slightly as Sargent Anglis took my picture for the course records.Private Myre walked up next and stood on the grass just off the asphalt designated as the spot to stand for the picture. "How you doing Sargent?" She asked with a friendly smile."Don't talk to me!" snapped Sargent Anglis. Private Myre came to attention quickly, and stood for her picture. She seemed nice most of the time, though could be annoying at times as I experienced with my dress uniform. I get along with people easily, so it didn't dawn on me as a big deal.Inside Base Clothing Stores a civilian called my name. I walked up to the service counter and showed him my list. He glanced at it, then back at me, then at it, then back at me again. "We're going to need a bin for you."Master Corporal Sanders stood by the desk. "Why don't you have any kit Callahan?""I hounded PRETC for 3 weeks to get me my kit Master Corporal. They kept saying they were working on it, but never got it done for me."Shaking his head, "fuck faces," Sanders loudly chuckled.***"Ok, well we have nothing else for you guys to do until Monday," Sargent Moy said. I felt a small glimpse of joy. Maybe they would let us off for the rest of the day. But deep down I knew how it worked."So," Sargent Anglis continued, "we are going for a run."I could feel the troops excitement getting ripped from them. I did not feel happy at all. I ran on PRETC, I did my PT with everybody like everybody else. But I knew these guys had a plan. And them all being Combat Arms, they had lots of time to think of plans.We stood at the bottom of our shacks. Our floor positioned itself in the building at the very top, three stories up. That is a long climb when I'm weighed down with kit, and when the staff gave us tight timings to meet.***We stood in ranks on the parade square across the road from our shacks, us facing the shacks. Dress in our PT gear, dark ballistic safety glasses, and sweat that started to drip, already knowing what faced us. Sargent Anglis stood before us. Corporal Cough, a corporal on tasking with my staff as general duties personnel, stood to the left of our ranks. Master Corporal Sanders stood to the right. They all dressed themselves in red shirts, with their own civilian choice track pants."Ok, we are going to have a race boys," a pause, "and girls," Anglis said. I felt the taint of a chuckle in the words. "Now here is the deal: If you all can beat me to the top floor of the shacks, and back down to the other side of the parade square, then we won't do it again." I saw a gleam in his eyes. I knew he knew he could beat us easily."A shit man, this is going to suck balls," a tall lanky, blond haired comrade of mine who I had not had the chance to know yet. His voice sounded slightly nasally, but he seemed like a decent fellow. I remember recording him on my camera playing the bag pipes at our drunken EME Branch Birthday May fifteenth. He was Private Anerson."Ya, I'm not looking forward to it," I said. "But yet again, I could use a good Combat Arms style run." I pointed at my belly. He laughed, and he had a funny sounding laugh, like a child laughing, but with a sound of adult hood. Strange for sure, but funny."Ok, line up and get read," Anglis said. We all scuffled into a line. "On your marks, get set, go!" Anglis took off like a rocket. We all followed suit. Running as fast as I could, I knew I still was shit out of luck. Before I even got up the first set of stairs, Anglis's feet touched the second set on his way back down.The race, as in many other things, was just a ploy to get us to work harder. In the military you realize that you have to be able to tell when something is a mind game, or for real. Anglis beat us all. After my fourth circuit to the top floor back to the end of the parade square, I saw Anglis directing us troops to follow him in two ranks.We jogged around the parade square. Corporal Cough ran close to me. I took a drink of water from my water bottle. "Are you thirsty already? Fuck man, we are just starting." Corporal Cough is a douche bag. In fact, the instructors call him names like Juice Box. Not because he is the one who brings us our food, but because the troops way before us used to call him a douche box behind his back.The instructors like the name, but changed it to juice box in case the guy decided to complain about harassment. "Duh, Sir, these guys are calling me a juice box, duh, sir." You get my point. He's a douche.Sargent Anglis fell back a bit and started talking to the troops as he too noticed a bunch of us starting to take water from our canteens. "Drinking water right now is not going to help you. All it does is help cool down your throat and get rid of that bad feeling you get back there when you run."He started running backwards, making us all feel like bigger losers. "It is important to stay hydrated. De-hydration is the biggest reason for failures off this course. Drink lots of water. Lots of water!" He turned back around and ran normally. "Water takes 48 hours, after you drink it, to enter your system. So that means, if you know your going to be really busy two days from now, you better start drinking lots of water now, and continue it that way."Juice Box through his own two cents in. He basically just said what the Sargent said. He loved doing that for some reason. I suppose it made him feel tough. Master Corporal Sanders ran by Juice Box shaking his head, then ran up beside Anglis. We continued around the parade square a few more times before Sargent Anglis stuck his hand up signaling us to stop.I bent over wheezing, then took a big swig of water. I continued to pant. "Okay, we are going to do some stretches. That was just the warm up. How do you guys like that?" Master Corporal Sanders said. I could see him laughing inside. The guy always seemed to be laughing, even when he wasn't.We did our stretches. We lined up in two ranks. Sargent Anglis began running and we followed. We ran to a road that went past the west side of our shacks and followed it for a bit. We then turned and ran over a 20ft mound that snaked it's way around a large field that lay behind the building our classes would be held starting Monday.Up one side, then down the other, up the mound again, then down the other side. We went over the mound again and again. My thighs began burning, I had a hard time breathing. I fell out to the side and ran at my own pace. I didn't stop running, I just could not keep up with the skinny guys.Eventually Anglis ran onto a road and we started a normal run. They ran a good pace which I could not keep up. I jogged behind, trying my best to keep my speed up. I felt cramps enter my thighs the second kilometer in. Sharp searing pain shot up my thigh as the muscle tensed. The muscles around my knees did the same, bulging and swelling. My legs became stiff. I kept running, almost at a weird waddle.Sargent Anglis fell back to where myself and others had fallen. "Fight the pain Callahan. I know you hurt, but fight the paint. Don't be a pussy. Do you know why your having troubles running?" I couldn't answer, I was to busy breathing. "It's because you have fat on your chest which pushes on your lungs and heart. You have fat in your muscles which restrict movement."I squeezed out a, "yes Sargent," between breaths."Move your ass Callahan. Move you fat fucking ass up with the rest of them." I already pushed my body to the max. No way in hell it would allow me to push it any faster. I kept my pace. Sargent Anglis gave up yelling at me and moved onto others. There were others still behind me who needed his 'encouragement' more then I did. I never felt bad when instructors yelled at me or said I sucked. They're just doing their jobs. They aren't mad. It's just the way things are.On the fourth kilometer my legs were so racked with pain I thought I was going to collapse. They took spasm after spasm. The muscle fibers trying to pull each other apart. Anglis put up his arm to signal a stop. The run wasn't over. We still had to get back to the shacks another kilometer a way."Everyone on your backs," Master Corporal Sanders said."ON YOUR FUCKING BACKS NOW!" Juice box screamed.Sanders glanced at the corporal and shook his head. I'm sure he muttered, "fuck face."On your backs usually means get ready to experience a great ab workout. I lay there ready for the pain. "Okay," Anglis said, "raise your feet six inches off the ground." I raised my legs. "Now hold it, hold it, hold it. Now raise them high in the air. Hold it, hold it, hold it. Now back to six inches." He continued this for a good 10 minutes. I felt my abs burning like the cramps I had in my legs. Luckily the ab workout took the pressure off my legs which minimized the pain to a light heat. My abs on the other hand screamed for release.Finally,"Up! Two ranks, right here," he pointed at a spot on the ground. On my way up my stomach felt like it was going to split open. I grabbed my gut and held it for a second and ran strangely to a spot in the ranks. I managed to get my spasming muscles under control and stood up straight.Sargent Anglis began running. We followed. One more Kilometer landed us in front of a bunch of chin up bars beside the shacks. "Lets have a competition boys. Split up into your sections. One section in front of each bar. Whichever section has the highest combined repetitions wins the competition.""What do we get Sargent?" Anerson said. I could tell he was going to be the course comedian."I won't call you a fuck face for the rest of the day," Master Corporal Sanders said. We all laughed.We began the competition. I could only squeeze out 3 chin ups. At the end, 2 section won. I belonged to 1 section along with Anerson."Okay troops, listen here," Anglis said. I want you upstairs lined up in the hall in 5 minutes. "Go!"We turned to leave when we all heard Sanders yell, "Anerson!". Anerson turned around and looked at the Master Corporal. "Your a fuck face."Anerson smiled. We all laughed again.We ran upstairs and lined up in the hall. Two minutes later a short, dark haired warrant with a stern look entered our barracks. "GROUP!" our course senior called. We all came to attention with a thump as our feet hit the ground at the same time."Fall in," the short warrant told our senior. He did. The warrant began walking. He had a cocky walk. An 'I am the shit,' type of walk. He strutted up and down the hallway and began speaking. "I am Warrant Kellog. I am your Platoon Commander. We do not have a Lieutenant. He is on vacation. I'm known as the nice Warrant. If you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. You push my buttons, I'll shove a rifle up your ass." Kellog said everything so smoothly, matter-of-factly, like he had said it before. But I knew he meant every word of it.He went on telling us the rules of the base, and what he expected of us. Team work, dedication, integrity. It is all the same jibber jabber we soldiers get all the time. "It is now fourteen hundred. I'm usually not allowed to let troops go for the weekend until fucking sixteen thirty. But I have no more reason to keep you. Course doesn't start until Monday. My number, and Sargent Moy's number is on the course message board. You get in any fucking shit this weekend, call me or Sargent Moy. We will do our best to help you out. But you won't get in any fucking shit will you?""No Warrant!" We all shouted in unison.Warrant Kellog continued pacing. "Now, however, if you do get in any fights and get in shit, you better win. I will not have any of my troops losing a fight to a bunch of fucking flat faced civies you understand?""Seen Warrant!" We answered. We smiled."But you won't get in any fucking fights will you troops?""No Warrant!""But you'll fucking win?" He said again."Yes Warrant!""Good enjoy your fucking weekend." He briskly walked out of the shacks. The staff followed him. I liked our Warrant.We would see them again Monday. But the weekend was ours now.*******************************************************************************************This is the end of part 2 of the Soldier Qualification Serial Series.I'm trying my best to keep this interesting. I'm not going back and doing any major edits. So what you see is the first draft. The first thing that comes onto the page. I might forget to describe characters or do proper scene descriptions.If I was to do a proper full edit, these things would be fixed. But as I said, this is more of an exercise for me to get back into writing. It is here for your enjoyment. But it won't be perfect.Anyways, I hope you enjoyed Part 2,Cheers,Cuyler Callahan.