Limits [BoyXBoy] [UNFINISHED/CANCELLED]

.:3:.

I stood as straight as I could with my back hurting from how flexed it was. My uniform and backpack and everything else that I needed was resting in my hands.

The clothes were what I expected: a murky green battledress with trousers of the same colour, a shirt to go underneath, an oddly-shaped helmet, and heavy black boots. We had been given all of our equipment, except for one thing.

The General stood in front of our row of soldiers with a long rifle clasped in his hand. I spotted a stack of them lying behind him, as well as leather pouches which probably held the ammunition. He said that he was going to teach us how to use and load them and I made sure to pay attention because he had specifically said that he would not be repeating himself.

"This is a Short Magazine Lee-Enfield Mk III rifle," the General called so that everyone would be able to hear, speaking with an accent which I could only assume was French. He held up the gun and I subconsciously flinched away, not really wanting to be anywhere near someone who was waving a rifle around.

The mood was depressing. Or at least, to me, it was. We had joined up with men from other counties in this one large building on the outskirts of France. I noticed that most people here were older and looked quite hopeless. There were a few young men who had a bounce to their step and an everlasting grin, and they had quite obviously volunteered. I would never be able to understand them. Pride and recognition was not worth risking your life for.

The General proceeded to demonstrate how to reload the rifle with new bullets, how to hold it properly, how to aim. This tutorial would be very important for most men here as they had probably never come in contact with a weapon like this. I had some previous experience but just with hunting wild animals, not getting ready to kill a person.

Soon I found myself with a rifle of my own, my hands clutching it tightly to disguise how hard they were shaking. My knuckles had turned white around the metal.

"For the first mission, all of us will be transported from here to Germany. There, we will-" The General started, but was cut off by the obnoxious sound of a door opening.

A flimsy-looking man rushed in, wearing the same uniform as I had to put on but with a few badges attached, signifying that he must have some level of importance. He stumbled in quickly, like his life depended on it, and approached the General.

"Colonel Kowalewicz, I think you ought to get your eyesight checked because you clearly cannot see that I am busy with the newcomers," the General snapped impatiently, folding his arms and tapping his foot on the hard floor.

"Sir, there is an emergency!" Cried the panicked man, completely ignoring the snide comment, "The land near the city of Bruges in Belgium is being under attack. The Americans were looking after that place and they have plenty people there and don't need that many men, just a few who have some experience. Take everyone here to Germany, but General Tankian ordered those who already know how to shoot to stay behind and help there."

"That darned Tankian," muttered the General under his breath. He quickly lifted his head and looked out at the sea of faces before him. I watched nervously as the scene unfolded but made sure to not make eye contact with anyone.

"Anyone who has ever had experience with shooting a gun, please raise your hand!" He called out and I could just feel the lump in my throat grow heavier.

I looked from side to side, noticing everyone else doing the same out of curiosity. I spotted a few people excitedly putting their hands up and some of them being more reluctant about it. My heart rate picked up. What do I do?

I knew that in a situation like this, being singled out by raising my hand would not be a good thing. In contrary, this was for the best. I knew how to shoot a gun and they needed people like me in a specific place. So why did I get a dreadful feeling that this was a bad idea?