Soldier Keep On Marching On

1.3 - Mae Lorenzo

"Agonizingly." I told her and she stifled a chuckle.

"I wonder if he ever gets tired of hearing his own voice." She muttered, her dark irises turning towards the sergeant.

"If he did then he wouldn't have signed up for this job." I muttered back. The blonde pivoted around in her seat so that she could face me while resting her chin in her palm.

"So," She began. "Do you come here often?" I snorted quietly as I subconsciously braided a couple of loose strands of hair.

She shifted in her seat again, this time to offer out her hand. "Private Rita Nolan of New York City."

I dropped the braid and shook her hand. "Private Mae Lorenzo of Toledo, Ohio."

"What do you do?"

"Machine gunnery." I answered, going back to my braid.

"No way." Rita whispered out, a smile breaking out across her face and her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Me too!"

I sat up a bit. "Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Huh," I said before tying off my braid. "How'd you get picked for that?"

"In New York I worked in a lot of factories after I graduated high school." Rita explained. "Nothing permanent, I'd just fill up a slot until someone else could. I worked all sorts of jobs, but every one had the same thing in common." She turned to me, holding up a single finger. "You got to carry shit around."

I laughed gently and she gave me a nudge. "How about you?"

"Well, from my experience I'd prefer the machine guns because they do not have a life or wriggle or scream in your ear when you pick them up." I told her. "Years of babysitting and carrying younger siblings."

"On your back?" She asked and I shrugged my shoulders. "I mean, it works."

"That's all you can ask for." Rita commented light heartedly.

"Shhh!" A girl in front of us exclaimed before turning back to the lecture. We paused, turned to each before slapping our hands over our mouths as we broke out into a fit of giggles.

"Shhh!" Rita mimicked, poking me in my side which only added to my laughs. "Stop being disruptive, Mae. Be a functioning member of society."

I only laughed louder, pressing my hands tightly against my lips as people began to turn to us. "No but seriously, shut up or we'll get in trouble." Rita said as we both snuffed out our chuckles.

After the sergeants lecture we were escorted to our barracks where we were told we had thirty minutes in total to move ourselves in and change into our PT gear. People immediately dived onto beds, claiming ownership the second the sergeant left us to our own devices. The building was a long rectangle, that had seven cots on each side. Everyone was clamoring and talking as women unpacked at different paces. I had already changed into my white shirt and shorts and was just now getting all of my personal items in order.

My bunk suddenly sagged and I looked over my shoulder to see Rita sitting on the end of it, lacing up her combat boots.

"Hey, I don't know if you heard, but the sergeant mentioned in his little speech that machine gunners have to carry their equipment while they run during PT."