Percy Jackson and The Sands Of Time

| Chapter 2 || Training Sucks |

Thinking back to the history lessons I'd had both at school and at camp, I remembered a key component to World War II. It came to me in an instant. Hitler was a son of Hades. Chiron told me that. Hitler was one of the main reasons the Big Three swore to never have any more children, because he was taken down, only by a son of Poseidon and a son of Zeus working together. Had history changed? Would I be the son of Poseidon who helped to take down Hitler?

Nearly smirking, I thought, now wouldn't that be something to add to my resume. Defeated Hitler in World War II with the help of _______, a fellow demigod and also my cousin.

"Role call, now! Get in line over by the flagpole when I call your name," the drill sergeant said as he pulled out a clipboard and began reading off the names.

"...Hart, Michael. Ingram, Ralph. Jackson, Perseus..."

As my name was called, I barely held back my shock that I was actually on the list as I made my way over to the other men standing by the flagpole. Some of them shuffled around, seemingly struggling just as much as I was under all the clothing they had on.

When the sergeant called the last name on the roster, he nodded to himself and tossed it to his assistant, who easily caught it. He clapped his hands together. "Now ladies," he said, addressing us, "We're gonna have you whipped into shape within a month, or I'll eat my hat. That means you'd better do well - because I don't have a hat."

And so, the gruelling training began.

It was the worst experience in my life, and the worst part about it was that it was prolonged.

I woke up at oh-six-hundred hours every morning - bright and early, ugh. Then, I struggled to get myself to the canteen for some poor excuse for food - mostly just canned beans or turnip loaf. How do they even make bread out of turnips? And why would they want to?

After what no one could call breakfast, we ran drills all day, every day. We crawled with rifles under barbed wire fields, ran laps around the camp until our feet bled, and did endless repetitions of all the exercises I'd ever done - plus a few more I'd never even heard of!

The only interesting part of the training was learning about the guns we used - especially how to avoid being killed by them. Picking up my weapon, which was the M3 .45 calibre submachine gun that had been tossed my way on the first day, I was able to aim and shoot a deadeye shot from fifty metres.

I was genuinely surprised. Give me a bow and arrows and I'd manage to hit the person behind me, but this gun almost felt natural in my hands. Two weeks in and I was hitting targets better than anyone else in camp, including the trainer! How that worked, I'd never know.

Today, in particular, I was looking forward to training. That was because we were learning about melée weapons today. Unfortunately, swords had gone out of style with mortals years ago during a war, but we were learning about bayonets - mostly how to avoid them - and how to gut a man before they could gut us.

Waking up, my eyes stung with sweat and dirt. I hadn't had a shower since I woke up in this dreadful camp for the first time and grime had collected. I bet that once I finally did get a shower, I'd find dirt in places I never knew dirt could go! Quickly shucking off my sleep clothes, I shrugged on a pair of cargo shorts and a white tank top for training. Side note, the tank top wasn't actually white, but I assumed that at some point it would have been.

Stopping at the canteen, I grinned as I scored a little bit of jam with my turnip loaf and sat with two others in our group, Andrew and Marcus.

Andrew sat solemnly, slurping his beans like they were the last thing he wanted to be eating - which they probably were. He was giant, and on the first day, I swear I was terrified of him, and even though he reminded me a bit of Ares, he didn't make me feel angry at all. In fact, he was a really nice guy. He was just sad all the time because his wife and first child were back home and he missed them. I saw a picture one time and since then, I could see why he wanted to get back in a hurry.

Marcus, on the other hand, was the toughest nut you ever did see. His whole body was covered in scars, and that was before he got called to do service in the army. Apparently, he was a street kid growing up. He was most likely a part of some gang or another, but he never really talked about what life was like before coming to the camp, so my knowledge was all just speculation at this point. When he grinned - which was nearly always - I could see his yellowy-black teeth, rotten from years of going without proper dental care.

For the first few times I saw that sickening smirk, I thought back to Ryan, the dentist back in my time that always tooth care of my teeth. He'd always been the one to give me the sugar-free lollipops. He would've been appalled by the state of Marcus' teeth. Would've fainted right then and there.

Once I finished my beans and my loaf - savouring the jam like it was finery, I headed to the latrines. The first week was the most awkward for me, but after a while, using them no longer became an issue.

"All recruits to the west hall!" the speaker croaked.

Drills were about to begin. Meeting up again with Andrew and Marcus, together the three of us walked to west hall, where we'd finally learn how to properly break someone's neck. I shivered at the thought. It was bad enough that I knew I'd have to kill people when I went out on the front lines. Doing it with my bare hands would be... life changing. And not in a good way.

Hopefully, I would never have to use the knowledge I'd learn today, because it most definitely wasn't a skill I wanted to break out right away, if ever.

In the last few minutes before entering the hall, I steeled my nerves, amending to myself once again that no matter what I went through here, no matter what I learned, I would never use the skills I would acquire for my own purposes. I was stuck in this time and I would play along until I found out how to fix my situation, but until then, I would remain true to who I was. True to who my mother, father, Chiron, and the rest of my friends taught me to be.

And maybe, one day, I would see them again. After Kronos' curse ran its course and I could finally go back to the time I belong in.

***

Word Count: 1785

Posted: Saturday, January 20th, 2018

~CSP2708~

*Dylan_Walts*