Escaping Boredom

Fourteen

Hi, I know it has been a while since I have uploaded but here it is.

With the sun rising in the east, the new soldiers were shaken from their stiff beds and commanded to dress, stand attention and wait for The Captain’s orders. They rubbed the sleep out of their weary eyes, wishing for just ten more minutes behind their covers in the sanctity of sleep.

Buckley strutted into the room, wide-awake with coffee on his breath. “Good morning, my people!” he said in a mock happy voice, taking in each soldier lined up. “Welcome to your first day of Hell,” he said staring directly at Sid.

Sid looked back at Buckley with determination. He was going to prove himself a worthy solider. Glancing over at Franky, Sid fought the urge to jump out the slim window above his bed and run far away.

Franky, taller than usual with a straight back and hands plastered to his sides, was glaring at Sid with murderous eyes.

Nothing out of the ordinary, thought Sid.

Buckley continued his speech, “Now, get to the mess hall. Hell begins in twenty.”

The two hundred recruits shovelled food and water down their greedy throats, preparing themselves for the first proper day of training. To some the food was sub par and resembled something produced from the backlash of vomit mixed with crackers.

After the soldiers finished their subpar meal, they were ushered to a field in the back of the camp. Shoved into lines based on their surnames, orders were shouted in their face on how to proceed.

“Again!” barked Buckley with his arms crossed behind his back and his feet squared off. “You stab like someone who has no arms or legs. Put some power into it!” When Tommy ran up to dummy with a bayonet, Buckley shouted, “You!” singling for Tommy to come to him.

“Sir?” he said, jogging close to Buckley.

“What’s your name?”

“Thomas Redding, Sir.”

Without a flinch of hesitation, Buckley snarled, “You are horrible. I mean fucking atrocious- I can’t say I’d be shocked if you were the first one to die from a stupid mistake. Back into the line. You will do this until you get it right.” He took a cigarette and match from his front pocket, lit it and blew the smoke into Tommy’s face.

Tommy, sighing in frustration, ran to the back of the line while the next soldier took a stab at the dummy. “He’s a fucking lunatic,” Tommy whispered to James Humphrey.

James Humphrey was a chunky boy of no more than twenty-two whom always crossed himself before every action he made. “Aren’t we all lunatics for joining?”

Tommy shrugged as he watched Sid take his turn.

Upon reaching the dummy, thrust his bayonet forward plunging the blade directly into the dummy’s heart. He smiled to himself when he saw that Buckley donned a pleased expression.

Franky stabbed the dummy with weak arms, receiving a shout of ‘lady’ from Buckley. Franky sneered as he joined the back of the line.

For six weeks they were ordered around from the moment they brought their dreary minds out of sleep until the second they fell into the starchy beds. Pushed through drills that broke their necks, strained their backs and crushed their morals.

The soldiers were taught how to clean their guns, carry their guns and murder with the flick of their finger. They knew how to ignite areas around them with a pull of a pin and the toss of their arm.

“Redding!” Buckley called to a soldier during a gas mask drill. “Do you want to die from gas poisoning?”

Hanging his head low and crossing himself, he responded,“ no Sir.” Tommy ran back into line without another word.

At the end of the six-week training, each boy was wider with strength, tired with running and could taste war on their tongues. Their riffles were their closest friends; the one constant in training. Their bunk beds housed dream of home- of desperation and anxiety. The pillows were

“Ladies,” Buckley called. “As you know, we are scheduled to go to Bournemouth and attack. It is what we have all been waiting for; fight for victory! During the war, you will find yourself isolated; alone when you are surrounded by hundreds. There will be no mercy for those who pause to pull the trigger. There will be bloodshed. There is a large chance you will not survive. But fear not, when all your friends die with you, there is no reason to be sad. You have a duty to your country- to your president- to yourself to defend this land.”