or: Aiello just wanting food
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Basic training was a lot harder than I expected it to be, which I actually should have known. We're already in the 7th week, which means we're about halfway through.
Even though I already knew the basics of handling a gun I realized pretty fast that this knowledge was simply not enough to fight in a war. Combat is way more complicated than simple hunting. You don't hide somewhere and aim your gun at an innocent animal which often even stands still. You need to run from cover to cover, dodge bullets and other shit and shoot at moving targets. Other people. I already tell myself to see those people as just the enemy and the enemy only not as human beings which is hard to do, because that's what they still are after all. I do not know if I'll be able to ever kill someone. But I guess once I'm in combat I don't have much of a choice than doing it. Kill or get killed, easy as that.
Even though the training really exhausts me I still continue to always give a 100 percent in everything, not giving anyone a single chance to wear me down. As long as I prove myself as a worthy member of this platoon, they ain't got shit on me. According to Aiello I'm even better than most of our comrades, however he didn't want to tell me if this includes him too. Honestly, I'm not really believing him. Yes, I am always going to my very limits, but the other men are at least as good as me if not even better. It still feels good to hear Aiello say that.
Today is Sunday which means we finally got something like free time and a rest. I just left the washing room and start looking for Aiello. He's probably eating again. I look up at the blue sky, not a single cloud to be seen. Fantastic weather and what am I going to do in such a weather? Exactly, no idea. Definitely not shopping that's for sure. I could practice shooting, so I get even better. Or study tactics. Nah, that's too boring. Maybe I should just go and find Aiello so I can annoy him the whole day. I haven't decided yet. Another platoon jogs by me singing some song. I can hear shooting in the distance, probably from the firing range, and somewhere a unit is getting yelled at by their pissed officer. Thank god I am not part of this unit, I'd never swap Turner and Pierson for this officer.
Just the second I walk around the corner towards the kitchen, hoping to find Aiello there, I hear steps on the pebble. Looking up I see my two lieutenants. I stop, straighten my back and salute.
"Lieutenant Turner, Lieutenant Pierson."
"At ease, Private," Turner smiles. I do as he say.
"Where are you going?" he asks.
"I am looking for Aiello. Guess he's eating. Again," I answer him.
"Probably. If I wouldn't know better, I'd think that's what he's doing all day long," Pierson snickers shaking his head softly. Turner joins him.
"True! If I'm not mistaking the first thing he does after having a meal is wondering what the next thing to eat will be."
"You heard right Lieutenant. He indeed asks this every single time," I confirm his assumption which made us laugh even more. Some soldiers who are walking by turn their head to us but continue to walk away after only a quick glimpse.
"Maybe we should assign him to the kitchen then," Pierson thinks out loud. I tilt my head.
"Sure, but don't be surprised if we run out of supplies."
"What, we're out of supplies?" a panicked voice suddenly intervenes which I immediately recognize as Aiello's. We turn towards him and look at his frightened face which makes us laugh again.
"What? How is that funny, this is a serious matter! What are we supposed to eat now?"
By now Turner is crying with laughter and I feel no different from him. Only Pierson is still able to hold his laughter back.
"Don't worry, we are not running out of them. Still enough for everyone," Turner manages to say gasping after calming down a little. Aiello's face instantly relaxes visibly, and he lets out a breath he unknowingly held the whole time.
"Oh, thank god. That's a relief. By the way, I was looking for you, (y/n)." The moment Aiello says my first name I notice Pierson looking at me. Did he never ever hear my first name before? Did Turner not tell him after picking me up from Davis's office and introducing me to him or did he just not notice it being too confused about me joining his platoon? I can't really tell since I was just glad that he was not pissed about the idea of me or a woman in general joining the platoon. Like I said, he was confused and didn't know what to say in that moment, but he never treated me different than the other men. Same goes for Turner. And my comrades. This platoon is literally the best thing that could have happened to me. Great buddies and great commanding officers. The last part is not something the platoon who got yelled at earlier could brag about. In fact, they are being screamed at again this very moment.
"Well, you found me," I grin at Aiello and slightly punch his shoulder playfully.
"Obviously."
Suddenly the shouting grows louder forcing Turner and Pierson to turn towards its direction.
"Maybe we should go and check on them before Harris kills the third platoon," Turner says addressing Pierson. Said man nods agreeing but also slightly rolls his eyes before answering.
"Who thought it was a good idea to have this man in control of a platoon. He's going to fuck them all up."
Turner only looks at him amused.
"Let's go. No need to already loose some people. Private (l/n), Aiello," he nods and walks off into Harris direction. Pierson smiles and follows him.
"Jeez I'm glad I did not end up there," Aiello points grinning towards the third platoon.
"Amen brother," I grin.
"So, what are we going to do on this fabulous day? Wanna grab something to eat?" he looks at me eagerly.
"You can't be serious. Knowing you, you probably just had something," I roll my eyes. Figures.
"So?"
I watch him closely. He responses with an innocent look which slowly turns into a grin.
"Okay, suggestion: first we'll practice shooting and then we can have a meal, would that be fine?" I frown throwing my head back in annoyance.
"Deal!" And with that he stomps away happily. Amused and somewhat annoyed I follow him throughout the camp, first to the armory to equip ourselves with our guns and then to the shooting range. We walk past the third platoon, which is finally able to have a rest from being screamed at since Turner was talking eagerly to the man who must be Harris. Pierson is just standing besides them. As he recognizes us walking by, he grins and makes an amused face tilting his head towards Turner and Harris. Apparently Turner got everything under control.
"Come on (y/n)! The earlier we practiced shooting the earlier we can grab some food!"
"Do you ever think about something else?" I shout back at Aiello and avert my gaze from the officers. I give Pierson a final wave (Turner is still busy bitching at Harris) and continue to follow Aiello again. Before turning around the corner to the shooting range I look behind me one more time. Pierson is still looking at me. He realizes that I noticed him staring and quickly turns away. I tilt my head in thoughts and don't even realize that I started to smile. That was until Aiello grabs my arm and pulls me with him.
The following weeks are relatively similar. Though my physical condition already got a lot better the training is still as hard as before. I feel like they are making it worse on purpose. Considering they have to prepare us for a goddamn war it is understandable. I managed to prove myself in training. The last training in hand to hand combat I was able to defeat Taylor, one of our strongest comrades. Safe to say he was impressed. And honestly, I think Turner and Pierson were impressed too. Of course, I can't say that for sure but judging from their faces I am in the position to make this assumption. I also got a lot better shooting a gun, not just because Aiello and I practiced a lot (of course followed by having a meal) but also because Pierson told me a few tips.
"Try to hold your breath after breathing out. It's gonna make it easier. Go ahead, try it."
I tried and hit the mark.
"Of course, you can't always do this. This technique is more suitable for situations where you got a little more time. But it's making shooting and hitting the target a lot easier. You know, in the battlefield you can't just tell them to wait a second so you can concentrate. But if no one has seen you yet they won't see their death coming."
"What, I can't tell them to give me a minute to adjust to a new situation?" I asked jokingly.
"Well, I mean you can try, of course, but yeah... you'll probably be dead before you can say your first word," Pierson answered chuckling.
"What if I offer them food?"
"No food for the krauts!" Aiello intervened still focused on his target.
The day of our deployment comes closer and closer. We finally also have been told where we are going to. On August 1st we will depart in New York, hopefully arriving in Beaminster in south-west England about a week later.
Today is July 28th and our last night in Fort Benning. Tomorrow we will catch the train to New York and from there the ship to England. Am I scared? Of course. Do I feel prepared? Yes. I know that I can count on my platoon and my Lieutenants. They trained us. Stick to the training, you'll get through. Turner always said it remembering what we are training for. We are not training to just kill and stop the enemy but also to keep ourselves alive. And I think this is the most important part. Staying alive.
Right now, our platoon is celebrating our finished training. We are drinking, listening to music, just having fun. Davis had held a little speech for us and was now talking to Turner and Pierson whilst I sat with Aiello, Baker and Adams. I am barley listening to what they are talking about because I suddenly remembered that I should write a letter to my family before departing. Being too occupied with the training I had not even thought about sending them a letter. I should write it now before I forget it again.
"Hey, Aiello. I'll go back to the shack. Write a letter to my family," I tell him as I get up. Sipping on his beer he just nods before continuing his conversation with the others. I walk past the other soldiers towards the exit when I suddenly hear someone call my name.
"(l/n)!" It was Davis.
"Yes sir?" I response walking up to him. He was not with my Lieutenants anymore.
"I just wanted to tell you that I am really impressed. I have never seen anyone being so eager with their training as you were."
I smile, obviously flattered.
"Thank you, sir. I told you, I really want to be part of this. And I'll do anything to stay part of it."
"I see that. You wanna know what Turner wrote about you in his report?"
I nod.
"He wrote that he has never met someone this ambitious, except for Pierson maybe. Besides he described you as unstoppable but also a little bit stubborn. But a good way of being stubborn. Turner's proud you're in his platoon."
"That's good to hear, Sir. I'm glad he feels that way." Definitely good to hear. Being liked by your commanding officers is a plus.
"Good luck Private (l/n). This is the last time before your departure we see each other. Be safe." He stretches out his hand and I shake it firmly.
"Sir!" I salute him and he dismisses me with a wave.
I leave the room and walk towards our shack. It's still pretty light outside even though it's already 8 pm. I enter the shack noticing I'm alone. I grab some paper and a pen and start to write a letter.
"Dear family,
I am still alive. Training has not killed me yet. If you're reading this, I am probably already on the ship on my way to England. We will stay there for a little time before taking a ship to our operational area.
I will try to stay alive so you can kill me when I come back.
I found a good friend. His name's Aiello and he wants to eat all the time, which kinda reminds me of you, (s/n) (in a good way of course). Besides that, he makes sure I am okay. Sometimes we play cards.
Anyways, you know I am not the best at writing letters and stuff.
Love
(y/n)"
Yep, I am definitely not the best at writing letters. I can't understand how people are able to write a 10-page letter.
I fold the letter and stick it into an envelope. The door opens and Pierson steps in.
"Hey, I saw you leave and wanted to check on you. Are you okay?" he asks.
"Yep, totally fine, sir. Just remembered I should write a letter to my family, considering I haven't written one since I left home. So I wrote one. Just finished"
He looks at me surprised.
"Since you left? So your family knows nothing about how you are and what you're doing?"
"Nope. I mean, they will when this letter arrives," I write the address on the envelope.
"Shit. Well then, let's go."
"Where to, Sir?"
"Post office. Come on," he holds the door open for me signalizing me to step outside.
"Is my letter to my family this important to you that you are accompanying me to the post office, Sir?" I ask as we walk through the camp.
"Not the letter. The fact your family might show up and rip Turners and my head off because they don't know what happened to you. "
"Oh."
I enter the post office and hand over the letter.
"Make sure this gets send away as fast as possible," Pierson orders the soldier.
"Will do Lieutenant," he answers.
We leave the office as fast as we entered it. That was kinda weird. But also nice of him.
"Thanks Sir," I don't really know what to say right now so this is all I managed as we walked back to the shed again.
"Sure. No problem."
We reach the shed and stop in front of it. We both stay silent not knowing what to do or say, Pierson scratches the back of his head letting his eyes wander around the camp whilst I stare at the floor.
"Well, uhm. I think I'll go to bed now. You know, gotta be prepared for tomorrow," I finally speak up looking up to him since he is a lot taller than me. I feel really small standing next to this tall and handsome man. Wait a second, handsome? I peek up at him again seeing he is lost in his thoughts. Yup, he is handsome. I just never realized it until now. Maybe it's the awkward situation making me feel this way. Yes, it's gotta be this situation, otherwise I would've already noticed it before. Tomorrow I won't feel this way anymore. But still, objectively speaking he is indeed attractive. I quickly shake my head to forget this thought.
"Uh, yeah sure. Do you need anything?" he finally snaps out of his thoughts due to my headshake.
"Nope, I'm good, thank you Sir."
"Alright, I'll get back then. If there is something you need, you know where to find me. Goodnight, Private," he turns around and walks away.
"Lieutenant!" Pierson stops in his tracks, facing me.
"Yeah?"
"Can you tell Aiello that I'm going to bed? So that he won't worry."
"Sure."
"Thank you, Sir."
The train ride to New York was even more boring than the bus ride to Columbus. No one threw up, no one made a mess, nothing. Everybody was just minding their own business. I talked to Aiello, slept, ate. Nothing too fancy. My thoughts considering Pierson are also back to normal which strengthens my assumption that it was just because of the awkward situation. I have barley talked to him today, just the basic good morning and the "yes Sir!" when checking if everybody was present before boarding the train. These were the most boring hours of my life.
"You good?" Turner's voice interrupts my thoughts.
"Yes, just fine Sir. Just a little bored," I shrug.
"I can imagine. Mind if I sit down?" he asks. Smiling I wave my hand at the empty seat next to sleeping Aiello.
"Sure."
Turner sits down.
"How long has he been asleep?" he points at Aiello.
"Quite some time, a few hours at least. Leaving me all alone with my boredom," I pout jokingly. "But it's okay, he needs, and I quote, 'his beauty-sleep'."
"Oh alright, let him have it then," Turner chuckles then looks outside the window. He sighs.
"Are you scared, (l/n)?" His eyes meet mine.
"Yes," I admit without hesitation pressing my lips in a thin line. Anything else than a 'yes' would be a lie. "But I know that I can count on you, Lieutenant Pierson and this whole platoon. And probably the other platoons too."
"You know, I really want to say that everything is going to be fine but that wouldn't be right. 'Cause I know it won't. I really hope we prepared y'all well enough."
"Right now, I feel pretty prepared. But I don't know how I'll feel on a real combat field. It will be different, right?"
"Yes. Different, more difficult. You don't know the enemy's next move. You don't know where the enemy hides. Sometimes things just happen really fast, and you have to improvise. The only thing that might calm you down a little bit is the fact that you're usually not alone out there. Having your comrades beside you strengthens your spirit. It keeps you going. As well as the people important to you. Your family for example."
"Yeah," I laugh, remembering my letter, "I promised them to stay alive so they can kill me when I return from this war."
Turner joins my laughing. "That is one reason to stay alive."
"What about you sir? Do you have someone special to stay alive and return for? If you don't mind me asking."
Turner smiles.
"I don't mind. Well, besides my parents not really. I am not married. I dedicated my life to the army, studied at West Point Academy, graduated and received my commission in 1938. Rose to the rank of First Lieutenant and was allied with Pierson in '39. He's been my second ever since. A good man."
Indeed. Woah, hold up, not the same thoughts again.
"You are basically living just for the army?"
"Guess you could say that. But I wouldn't change it for a thing. You know what we're all about, right?"
"Yeah. No mission too difficult, no sacrifice too great - duty first."
"Exactly. I live by that," Turner explains looking out of the window again. I turn silent and he speaks up again.
"Even though no sacrifice is too great, there don't have to be unnecessary sacrifices by being careless. I'll always make sure to save as much people as possible and keep them save. Unfortunately, that doesn't work all the time. Sometimes you have to make decisions that you don't like. But that's what makes a leader. Making decisions and standing behind them no matter how bad they are."
"From what I can say now, I think you are a great leader, Sir. There is no one I'd rather serve under," I just speak my mind.
"Thank you. Means a lot to me." Turner reaches into the pocket of his jacket and gets a stack of cards.
"Wanna play a game?"
"Absolutely I do. Ready to loose?" Finally, something against the boredom.
"The only one loosing will be you," he states. "I'll ask Pierson to join, if you're okay with that"
"You're the boss. I don't mind," I assure him snickering.
"William, care to join?" Turner exclaims holding the stack up for Pierson to see. Said man turns his head, looks at the cards, nods and walks over.
"Sure. I'd never let the chance to win pass," he explains sitting down in the last empty seat- right next to me.
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a/n
gosh this is a long one holy shit
but i really had a good flow writing it
just hope there are no mistakes, if so i will find them eventually. maybe. we'll see xd
also: Pierson being nice :o