riot | william pierson

Chapter 3 - The Best

or: Aiello just wanting food

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Basic training was a lot harder than I expected it to be, which I actually should have known. We're already in the 7th week, which means we're about halfway through.

Even though I already knew the basics of handling a gun I realized pretty fast that this knowledge was simply not enough to fight in a war. Combat is way more complicated than simple hunting. You don't hide somewhere and aim your gun at an innocent animal which often even stands still. You need to run from cover to cover, dodge bullets and other shit and shoot at moving targets. Other people. I already tell myself to see those people as just the enemy and the enemy only not as human beings which is hard to do, because that's what they still are after all. I do not know if I'll be able to ever kill someone. But I guess once I'm in combat I don't have much of a choice than doing it. Kill or get killed, easy as that.

Even though the training really exhausts me I still continue to always give a 100 percent in everything, not giving anyone a single chance to wear me down. As long as I prove myself as a worthy member of this platoon, they ain't got shit on me. According to Aiello I'm even better than most of our comrades, however he didn't want to tell me if this includes him too. Honestly, I'm not really believing him. Yes, I am always going to my very limits, but the other men are at least as good as me if not even better. It still feels good to hear Aiello say that.

Today is Sunday which means we finally got something like free time and a rest. I just left the washing room and start looking for Aiello. He's probably eating again. I look up at the blue sky, not a single cloud to be seen. Fantastic weather and what am I going to do in such a weather? Exactly, no idea. Definitely not shopping that's for sure. I could practice shooting, so I get even better. Or study tactics. Nah, that's too boring. Maybe I should just go and find Aiello so I can annoy him the whole day. I haven't decided yet. Another platoon jogs by me singing some song. I can hear shooting in the distance, probably from the firing range, and somewhere a unit is getting yelled at by their pissed officer. Thank god I am not part of this unit, I'd never swap Turner and Pierson for this officer.

Just the second I walk around the corner towards the kitchen, hoping to find Aiello there, I hear steps on the pebble. Looking up I see my two lieutenants. I stop, straighten my back and salute.

"Lieutenant Turner, Lieutenant Pierson."
"At ease, Private," Turner smiles. I do as he say.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"I am looking for Aiello. Guess he's eating. Again," I answer him.

"Probably. If I wouldn't know better, I'd think that's what he's doing all day long," Pierson snickers shaking his head softly. Turner joins him.

"True! If I'm not mistaking the first thing he does after having a meal is wondering what the next thing to eat will be."

"You heard right Lieutenant. He indeed asks this every single time," I confirm his assumption which made us laugh even more. Some soldiers who are walking by turn their head to us but continue to walk away after only a quick glimpse.

"Maybe we should assign him to the kitchen then," Pierson thinks out loud. I tilt my head.

"Sure, but don't be surprised if we run out of supplies."

"What, we're out of supplies?" a panicked voice suddenly intervenes which I immediately recognize as Aiello's. We turn towards him and look at his frightened face which makes us laugh again.

"What? How is that funny, this is a serious matter! What are we supposed to eat now?"

By now Turner is crying with laughter and I feel no different from him. Only Pierson is still able to hold his laughter back.