My Saviour || Bucky Barnes || REWRITING

eight -> here goes nothing

June 23, 1943
Army camp, Italy

Maria Mitchell's POV

The soldiers are eating dinner in the small dining tent and I could hear a few of them whispering about a new training officer. They didn't know much. They just knew someone new was coming but they could never have expected me.

I made sure to eat dinner in my tent, seeing as I didn't need any more men getting the opportunity to practically jump at me for the rest of the day.

Oh how I wished I didn't have to do this.

But here goes nothing.

I walked into the dining tent but no one even noticed I was there over the loud chatter.

I tried calling them.

"Soldiers."

"Soldiers!!"

Nothing. 

Then I saw the kitchen being cleaned up and got an idea.

I went into the makeshift kitchen and asked a very nice old man, the chef, if I could borrow two pans, to which he just smiled and said "Take whatever you need, child."

The world needs more people like him.

So I stood up on a table at the front of the dining hall and hit the two pans together.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

silence...........

I muttered a quick "thank you" to the chef and gave him back the pans.

I then turned to the dozens of soldiers who were looking at me curiously, expectantly, and hungrily.

"Soldiers. I am Agent Mitchell's of the Strategic Scientific Reserve. As you may have heard, you have a new training officer. Well as of tomorrow I will be conducting and supervising all training exercises done here, for the next few months."

One cocky soldier who was, no doubt, the clown of the group said smirking almost creepily, "What're you gonna do, pretty lady?"

A few people snickered.

I turned to him, jumped off the table and started walking towards him.

"What's your name, soldier?"

"Daniel Evans, gorgeous." His smirk widened, if that was even possible.

I was not phased.

I stood right beside him and asked, "Which hand do you shoot a gun with, Evans?"

He looked confused for a second but then put up his right hand. 

"Interesting." I muttered before twisting his hand causing him to scream in pain.

"WHAT THE-" I cut him off.

"Now your good hand is sprained, what are you gonna do about it?"

At this point every other soldier stopped and watched the exchange.

He looked at me with crazy eyes as he cradled his right wrist.

"I'll tell you what you're going to do about it. You are gonna get off your ass and you're gonna learn how to shoot a gun with your other hand.
Because what if you're out there and you get shot in the shoulder, or you break an arm?
It does not matter.
Because Hydra doesn't care.
And guess what? On the battlefield no one's gonna stop if you have a little cut or bruise, and mommy is not gonna be there to kiss it all better.
Because out there is war. And the war is not gonna stop because you got a little knocked up.
So YOU are gonna have to get back up and YOU are gonna have to fight for YOUR life because this is not the recruiting station, or the training camp, this is REAL LIFE.
So if you want to sit here and helplessly devour the little food supply you have, then by all means, continue. But if you want to learn how to kick ass then you're gonna meet me in the clearing on the east side of camp at 7AM tomorrow morning."