Rising Conflicts.

Chapter Four.

H.V.T.

—

Day - 0001 - Wednesday.

Hour - 19:22:09

Barsah, Iraq.

Cpl. Nathan Llyod.

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Lcpl. Milton: "Out of all the things in the world, we get paired with a group of anthros?" The marine lets out, grunting halfway through the sentence as he lifts a box of ammunition for the 50. Cal into the boot of the Humvee.

Standing on the right hand of the Humvee, I watch as the lance corporal struggles to lift two more boxes into the back of the Humvee, both once more ammo boxes for the gun atop the truck. This all happens while Clark leans against the other side of the humvee, watching the marine place the boxes in himself.

Pfc. Clark: "Thought you said you didn't hate them?" The African American marine asks, biting into an energy bar while he leans against the humvee.

While Milton shoves the last ammo box into the rear of the Humvee, I step alongside him and grab a duffel bag sitting in the rear, pulling it out and stepping away as the two talk.

Lcpl. Milton: "It's fifty-fifty man." He says, glancing at the marine after slamming the boxes down atop the bed of the humvees trunk.

Pfc. Clark: "You're confusing me," The marine says, mouth full of the energy bar.

With a deep breath, Milton pauses and turns at the other marine leaning against the humvee.

Lcpl. Milton: "It's rather simple once you understand what I'm saying." He says.

Pfc. Clark: "Then tell me, 'cause I ain't understanding ya." The marine tells him.

Stepping away from the two, I head to the front of the Humvee with the duffel bag in hand, stopping at the rear seat just behind the front passenger seat. Opening the door, I notice Young sitting in silence looking out the window just behind the driver seat. Placing the duffel bag in the center of the two seats, the marine glances towards me, looking at me for a second before returning his eyes back out the window.

Taking a step back, I close the door to the humvee and move to the rear of it once more, picking up on the two marines talking once again as I pick up another bag off the ground just behind the humvee.

Lcpl. Milton: "... they're from a faraway island, and because of that they act all tough and that they can take on the whole world, which is bullshit in the first place, and secondly they ain't like us, they ain't marines." He lets out to the other marine.

Pfc. Clark: "I ain't like you, I'm colored differently." He lets out.

Lcpl. Milton: "You're a fucking marine ain't ya? These anthros from afar, ain't. They're a bunch of dogs and cats playing dress up while our boys bleed their hearts out for them." He complains.

Pfc. Clark: "You know we've got anthros in the corp too right?" He says to the marine.

Lcpl. Milton: "Oh well I couldn't fucking tell, ding ding dumbass their marines, I mean come on did you not see how that wild dog was looking at us in the briefing room?" He says, sounding a bit angry.

"He has a point, that guy was giving us a glare," I interject into the conversation as I pick up a duffel bag from the ground.

Pfc. Clark: "Was he now? I didn't even notice." The marine admits.