Soldier Qualification Serial 29 November, 2009 Part 3

This is the 3rd serial in my Soldier Qualification series. To recap on the last part: I arrived in Meaford, received my kit, and went for a grueling PT session.I hope you enjoy this part of the series. Remember that this is a first draft, with little editing. Don't expect perfect writing. I do expect it to be a fun story to read however.Warning: If you are offended by swearing, and some graphic scenes and scenarios, don’t read!The Continuation Follows:*******************************************************************************************Soldier Qualification Serial 29 November, 2009 Part 3Private Anerson sat on the floor, a C-9 Machine Gun in parts, spread on the floor in front of him. Master Corporal Sanders stood above him, pointing at parts with a ruler."Whats this?" Sanders said, pointing to a part."Return Spring," Anerson said.Sanders pointed to another part,"this?""Feed tray," Anerson said confidently."This?""Bolt.""This?""Bolt Face."Sanders pointed his meter stick at Anerson's face. "Whats this?""A Fuck Face," Anerson said with no delay. The rest of us sitting on the chairs behind Anerson started laughing. I didn't expect him to say that, and I think the rest of the troops didn't expect it either. Master Corporal Sanders seemed impressed."Quick one, eh there Anerson," Sanders stated. He sounded impressed. "Okay, good. Now take your seat fuck face. We'll give another one of you fuck faces a turn now."Sanders called us all fuck faces, but the name had been especially reserved for Anerson. He claimed the name proudly, and the rest of us knew it belonged to him. It's funny how in the military, soldiers like to make claim to terms and names made by our more senior ranking staff. It's something I suspect a civilian would never be able to understand. But it makes perfect sense to soldiers for reasons unexplainable.We continued on with our classes. The first week had been scheduled for teaching us the C-9 Small Machine Gun, and the C-6 Light Machine Gun. The C-6 is a far from light piece of equipment. Regardless, many of my comrades continually vocalized their fantasies of being the one to carry the weapon when we did our field exercise in a couple weeks.I had done a Soldier Qualification course before back in 2007 when I was a reservist. I say go for it, I'm happy with my C-7. I know how heavy the weapon gets after a long time of carrying the thing around. It ways down on a person extremely, and becomes a great burden. The staff however say the person who gets to carry it is privileged. Ha, I'm glad I'm smart enough not to want it.****I stood easy outside the doors of the two rooms that belonged to my section. I was Section Senior today. I heard the Course Senior up ahead, around a corner yell, "steady up!" I stopped looking around, and stood perfectly at ease. It was 7:30. We had our greasy breakfast from the mess, and now we were having our morning inspection.I saw Sargent McGyverson and Sargent Song walking down the hallway quickly at me. I came to attention. I couldn't help myself though. Sargent McGyverson has these big bushy eye brows, and a face that just floats down the hallway. A large smile crept across my face. The scene seemed comical.McGyverson and Song stopped in front of me. "Is something funny Callahan?" I shook my head. "Sargent Song, he thinks something is funny.""He does doesn't he," Sargent Song said."STOP FUCKING SMILING!" McGyverson shouted at me. It almost scared me how he just jumped from talking to yelling so fast. But regardless, I let out a chuckle, and the smile got bigger."WHAT THE FUCK! I SAID STOP SMILING YOU PIECE OF DISRESPECTFUL SHIT!" Sargent McGyverson got right up in my face and looked me right in the eyes. In a real nasty, and cringing voice he said, "your piece of shit Callahan. I know for a fucking fact, you piece of nasty shit, your not going to make it past week one. You not going to make it to the field. Your going to fail Callahan, cause you have no respect for your authority."I tried my best to wipe my smile of my face, but the whole scene reminded me of the scene from Full Metal Jacket when the recruits meet their sargent for the first time and he's giving them hell for the smallest things.McGyverson continued, this time yelling. "NOW WIPE THAT FUCKING SMILE OFF YOUR FACE OR I'LL BOOT FUCK YOUR ASS TO FUCKING HELL YOU PIECE OF DISRESPECTFUL USELESS FUCKING SHIT!"I managed to wipe the smile off my face. "That's better, now can we continue on with the inspection Callahan?" Sargent Song said."Yes Sargent," I said, suppressing with all my might another smile from appearing.I followed them, taking notes of what needed to be fixed. Dust under the beds, dust on the windows, wipe down the mirrors, dust on the door frame, dust in the desks. Dust, dust, dust, dust, dust. There is always dust. An inspection is never perfect. Dust is always present somewhere.****We had just finished going over weapons drill all morning and it came time for us to go for lunch. Sargent Song said, "Okay, pack up, get ready for lunch.""Just a minute Sargent, I want to speak to the troops for a minute," Sargent McGyverson said, walking into the room beside the podium."Sure, I'm going for lunch. They need to be back by thirteen hundred.""Okay," McGyverson said. Song walked out of the room. "Okay troops, inspection wasn't that bad this morning. I know we made it seem so, but I'm going to be honest with you. You will never get all the dust. We just need to be hard on you. We need you to try your best to be perfect. The more perfect you are, the less chance you will die in battle." We already knew most of this. We all knew that the best way to motivate us was for the staff to play mind games, and make us think we suck, so we try better to get rewards. But it was nice to hear it from the staff from time to time as McGyverson did now.He continued on, "I'm the type of guy that doesn't like being separated from my troops. We fight together, we drink together. That is how I like it. I like to be your friend, not your enemy. We fight better that way. So if you guys act like adults, we will treat you like adults. You understand?""Yes Sargent," we all said."Oh, and Callahan?""Yes Sargent?""Don't laugh during inspection. It's funny, but not recommended," he chuckled"Yes Sargent," I smiled too. I won't forget the time I got jacked up for laughing at my Sargent during inspection."You'll do good.""Thanks Sargent."****A couple mornings later, I stood in the spot of Course Senior. It was my turn. Private Deigh filled in as my assistant, and as such, followed me around for the inspection, taking notes as well. We stood easy in the entrance to our course wing."Tell them to steady up, Kellog is coming," I told Deigh.He shouted down the hallway, "steady up!"Kellog approached us. "Attention!" he said. Deigh and I came to attention. I brought up some notes, and supplies the troops needed. "Okay, I'll do what I can. We are limited to what we can use right now. Lets get on with the inspection.""Yes Warrant." I said. We began following him around. The other staff started inspecting rooms. Kellog checked the laundry room, the bathrooms, the common room, the stair wells. Of course in all of these the big thing was dust, and dust, and dust. Nothing new.We stood in the stairwell as Kellog gave us shit. "Look at this fucking window. This is fucking disgusting. Look at all that dust. Don't tell me you actually cleaned that?"I stood, speechless. I didn't want to blade any of my fellow course mates. "Well are you going to answer me?" Kellog said disgusted."Warrant, I'm not sure if anybody cleaned out here. I didn't assign this spot to anybody." I wasn't going to let anybody else take the blame. I was in charge, its me who should take the blame. It worked."Well good fucking job you did. Glad you aren't leading us into battle. Probably forget to bring bullets too.""WARRANT! WARRANT! YOU GOT TO SEE THIS!" A loud voice shouted down the hallway. Sargent McGyverson came out of the room opposite of mine that belonged to my section. He started walking to us down the hallway. He held up a round container, and a shaving cream applying brush. "Private Deigh, is this yours?"Deigh looked at me. Then looked at the Sargent. "Yes Sargent.""What the fuck!" McGyverson exclaimed."It's my shaving cream kit Sargent," Deigh explained."I know what it is. I don't want to ever see this fucking shit again. This is the modern army. Give this back to your grandpa and get a regular fucking shaving kit like the rest of the troops. Your not a fucking individual. Your a Canadian Soldier." McGyverson stood outside of the rooms Sargent Moy was inspecting. "Hey Sargent Moy, check this out.""What the fuck!" Sargent Moy's condescending whine sounded through the shacks."Ya, I know." McGyverson pointed at Deigh. "I want this shit gone. You'll have a regular shaving kit by fucking tomorrows inspection.""Yes Sargent," Deigh said.****I leaned up on the railing in the gazebo outside of our class building. I took a drag on my cigarette as I watched Master Corporal Sanders light up his own. It was Thursday of week one."That Private Dale and Care are in for a surprise when we let you guys go for the day.""Oh," Private Hillman said, then sucked in a drag. He was a normal sized guy, with brown hair. He loved drinking. His stories were pretty funny. They were good for a laugh. Just glad I didn't drink like that."What are they in for?" Anerson asked."Well that would ruin the surprise would it not fuck face?" Sanders said."I suppose it would Master Corporal.""So what are you boys doing this weekend. I suggest you stay away from the mullets in this town. They've all been fucked many times by the boys on this base. Pretty dirty." Master Corporal Sanders was cool that way. He liked talking to us and sharing stories and advice.Hillman piped up, "Never stopped me before Master Corporal."Master Corporal Sanders nodded. "You boys want to know a great trick?""Sure," I said."Get a picture of you in uniform, with your weapons and shit, looking all rambo like. Then go up to girl and be like, I just got back from Afghanistan. Tell them some crazy war stories and shit. They like to take pitty on guys. And they think it's bad ass. You can fuck lots of bitches that way."I said, "I dont know if I like lying like that Master Corporal.""Ok, well then go up to them and tell them your trying to select a good picture to send to a friend and show them the pictures. Of course they are going to be intrigued by the pictures and ask you if you've been to Afghanistan, or killed a man. You just act all sad and say you don't want to talk about it." Sanders looked at me. "Does that work for you Callahan. Your not lying, and you can still get layed. They take pitty on ya.""Sounds good to me Master Corporal.""Good," Sanders looked at his watch. "Okay fuck faces, back in the class."****We all stood laughing at Dale and Care. We had been dismissed for the day, and had all heard of the surprise the two guys were in for. They had left their kit unsecure, their lockers unlocked.The staff took the bed sheets and tied them up in knots and stuff them in their lockers, along with their desk, their mattress, their bed frame, and their barrack box.I stood there with my camera. The pictures would go great with a course album. Dale and Care laughed off their misfortune. As soldiers, we learn to not take everything so seriously. If a soldier took everything seriously, and became upset every time they messed up, we would hate our jobs. We look at it more as a memorable experience.****After supper, I lay reading a book I was really into. All of a sudden I heard a loud droning noise, then a tune started to form. It was really loud. I recognized the bag pipes. Anerson stood in the hallway playing them.I got out my camera and started recording the scene. Soon though, a very angry student on the Infantry DP 1 course below us came up to our floor. "What the fuck, we are trying to sleep down stairs. Shut that fucken racket off."The DP 1 course is very hard. They go through hand to hand combat, being pepper sprayed in the face, 30 km ruck marches. All this within a day. It's called Hell Day. They also don't get any sleep in this 24 hour period. Often I hear them out on the parade square yelling "Kill, Kill, Kill," as they do their bayonette figting drills. Along with that, eight percent of their three month long course is spent living in trenches in the field, and very long morning runs. They tried to get to sleep by twenty hundred hours.My main smoking buddy; a little bald, 105 lbs, french guy named Pru told me what happened to him when he mistakenly walked onto the Infantry DP 1 Course floor on Tuesday.He said, "I started walking onto the floor, and saw all these guns. C-6s. We hadn't been issued C-6s yet, so I knew it wasn't my floor. I turned around to leave when a really big, tough looking, sargent stepped out in front of me from a room." Pru spread his tiny arms to emphasize the size of the sargent. He then went back to polishing his boots. "He said to me, 'hey little man. Are you lost?'"I said, 'my mistake Sargent, I stepped on the wrong floor.'"'FUCKING RIGHTS YOU DID! WELCOME TO THE GAUNTLET LITTLE MAN.' He then bent down to look me closer in the eye and he said, 'now give me thirty.'"I started doing my push ups. Then when I stood up he made me run around yelling 'I'M A FUCKTARD, I'M A FUCKTARD.'"Then he told me to, 'get my fucking ass back to my dirty fucking floor.'"I think there was no need for that."I sat there and listened, and afterward, when Pru said, "I think there was no need for that.", I burst out laughing. It sounded hilarious. A real funny story; a great ending line.I loved it. "Welcome to the Gauntlet." I think that would make a perfect line in a book or something.*******************************************************************************************I hope you enjoyed it. Stay tuned for more in the Soldier Qualification Serial series.Cheers,Cuyler Callahan