let me know what you think, whether or not i should go on w it, and comments, suggestions, if you would like a character in tha story, etc.. imma post the final on the forums, so keep a heads up! btw its a short story, between 15 and 70 pages. im at page 4 soooo:
How to play soldier:
Anyone who says war is not the answer, obviously never wanted anything in life… either that or their up for reelection in a month or two. Either way, stating that to fight for something is wrong just because it means the other guy has to lose… well, its moronic, isn’t it? I didn’t sign up for the infantry because I was a big ol’ hoo-ah hardass come to serve my country good. I knew full well that all I was doing was playing scapegoat for the high up hard to reach swine our country is really made of. But I was alright with that, figuring I might as well get the benefits, and take myself off that damn draft list. Guess I figured wrong. It’s been about three weeks since I last slept, and longer than that since id heard from Tams. She’s probably off on some other guy’s nuts by now… it’s been about six months. Kibbles can’t help but to rip on me ‘bout it. “Hell, she probably missed ya so much she cooked up your brother, can’t hardly tell the difference anyhow!” Then with a cackle he’d sling up his rifle and march off like he owned the damned joint. Typical f**king Kibbles. Hasn’t a moment gone by that I haven’t wondered how far I could shove that rifle up his a**. Back in basic, he was the know-it-all. The guy who’d studied the soldier’s handbook so much he could fart it out word for word in his sleep. He was the drill sergeant’s lapdog, living only to lick the can clean so serge wouldn’t dirty his a**. That’s where the name Kibbles came from.
So anyways, backing off the latrine licker, my name’s Rocker. Cpl. Allen Rocker, US Army. I’m signed for a four year contract, and I’ve been here for about six months. Contrary to popular belief, things don’t get easier as time goes on. In fact, things have just gotten worse. In the past few months, three of the seven guys I went to basic with were KIA, and another went home in a wheelchair. Half his face is still in that damned village we took a hit from. I saw him go down, too. We were just walking through, half speed, when a scream rang out. At least I think it was a scream, I mean… I guess I should say a loud noise, because the whole god damned patrol hit the floor. I looked up from the dirt to see him just sitting there, staring at his arm. It was sitting about a foot away from him, crumpled in a bloody, useless, heap. This poor b*****d managed to blurt out a “-oh sunnova…” before passing out, becoming a pile of deadweight, a liability, and a sickening torment in my memory for lifetimes to come. The last thing I remember is my world growing dim as a sharp pain joined in with my other senses and our squad leader ran up with a medic and a stretcher.
I awoke three days later, here in the med bay, our sad excuse for a hospital when we’re on the road. I gotta say though, they keep this morphine thing going for me, I’m gonna have to get shot a hell of a lot more often. The IV is a great improvement to those MREs too. However, as all good things must eventually end… I get put back into the field in about a week. They did put me on PTS watch, blaming my nightmares on the recent joyride of death and explosions. I relax and let the drugs take a hold of me. Sneaking in the occasional smoke, I’m enjoying the R&R while I can get it. My eyes close, and once again I wish I could let myself sleep.
Chapter 1 6m, 23d, 14:17
Rocker woke up and shook his legs. It had been a few days since he had used them, and he wondered if they still worked. A little twinge made him grimace, reminding him of why he was here in the first place. The headache was still ringing in his ears.
Too much morphine…
He sat up, and dropped back down into his bed. His vision began to blur, causing the camo netting to blend into itself and form a solid wall. He was the only one in med bay, save the nurse, and he felt the loneliness sink in. This was the third week in med bay, and also his last. In fact, Diaz was supposed to be here to retrieve him at 1400. Where was that b*****d? Rocker slumped back into his comfortable suffering position, a position not unlike a fetal ball. His stomach turned again, shooting another twinge at him.
1st Sgt. Diaz came in at about 1500. His ACUs looked ragtag, as if he had just lost a clawing match with a bear. Without much ceremony, he pinned a purple heart on Rocker’s shoulder and helped him to his feet.
“Congrats, you morphine junkie, on getting shot in the a**. Now get moving, CO wants you in working order by tomorrow night. We’re headed out for a patrol in some dank little village about 4 clicks southwest. We leave at 1900, so let’s go.”
Rocker arrived back at the hooch later that night. His arrival was met with a cold silence, a dismal fact tore at his heart. The hooch was almost empty. Ryan sat in a crumpled up state. His eyes were fixed on the ground, as they seemingly had been for hours. Save Ryan and Kibbles, the other bunks had been packed up and cleaned of all personal belongings. Rocker knew what that meant. He wasn’t the only one to get hit in that village. That meant that the other 16 or so men in his platoon… were dead. Rocker dropped his c-bag on the floor, and almost fell onto his dusty bunk. Gaines, Mack, Coriner… they were gone. His head began spinning, and he felt as if he would pass out. He would have done just that, had he not felt a firm arm grip onto his shoulder.
“Stay with us, man. We waited too long to see if you made it… you can’t leave us now.” Rocker looked up to see Kibbles bracing him upright, to keep him from falling over. This wasn’t the Kibbles he knew. Kibbles was an a*****e, everyone knew that. What happened in that village that turned an a** like Kibbles into, well, this? He gave a hard stare, right into Kibbles eyes. Kibbles didn’t flinch.
“What the hell happened out there man?”
Chapter 2 6m, 24d, 07:34
Rocker woke with a start. It was the only sleep he’d gotten in a while, but it was hardly worth it. Every time he closed his eyes he saw that village… He’d had dreams in which it was he who was sitting there, staring at what used to be his arm. With a shiver going down his spine, he lifted out of his bunk. There was too much activity going on… Rocker looked around.
You’ve got to be kidding me… Cherries?
New guys, lots of them, stared at him as if he were a ghost. They looked frightened, with fresh shaves and clean clothes. It made Rocker and Kibbles’ scruffy beards look almost inhuman, making them look at least twenty years the senior of half of the new guys. In reality he was no more than a year older than any of them, but there was no way he was going to let this illusion go and not have some fun. He saw one of them fixated on him out of the corner of his eye, and decided to direct his fun in his general direction.
“What the hell you starin’ at, boy? You wanna keep that pretty head of yours, keep it out of my business, hear?”
“Y-y-yessir!” The cherry snapped his head away, and Kibbles couldn’t help but to burst out into a laugh. The kid’s face turned bright red, and he pushed his scrawny finger up his nose to fix his glasses. Rocker shot him a sideways grin, inviting him into the fun. Kibbles drew out his knife, and snuck up behind the new kid with the glasses.
“You hear what he said, son?” He put the knife to the back of the kid’s neck. “Lieutenant Rocker doesn’t like you givin’ him the stares when you come into his hooch. Should I take the left eye, or the right, sir?” The new kid began to seize up, and started to let tears run. Rocker was laughing too hard to come up with a retort, so Ryan walked over.
“Chill out, Kibbles, cut the poor kid a break, he’ll lose something vital soon enough, without the help of you.” Dead silence filled the room. Every single one of the new guys were staring at him, jaw dropped and wide eyed. “You think I’m kidding?” He stood up, in front of the whole hooch. “Who the hell you think lived in this hooch before you? Saudis? You there, what’s your name?”
“Uh, Renolds, sir.”
“That bunk you just dropped all your s**t at? That was Gaines bed. He got hit by an I.E.D. about a month ago. Now you’re here. Got it?” With this, he left the hooch, leaving the new guys to murmur between themselves of what their fates were going to be. Rocker smiled at Kibbles.
“Think we should let ‘em know we’re not sirs?”
“Let’s let them think what they want for a little while.” He smiled back. This new Kibbles was going to be fun.
Chapter 3 6m, 24d, 18:40
They sat in a low patch of dirt, cleaning our rifles, checking their ammo, and praying silently to themselves. Now that Rocker had become the senior player in the game called soldier, it was his job to step up and be the platoon leader. As such, he was now going from cherry to cherry reminding them how to turn their safety on, so that “You don’t end up shooting me in the a** again.” Glasses was sitting on the end, reciting to himself the rules of engagement. After scaring the life out of the kid, Kibbles and Rocker decided not to give the kid too harsh a nickname. Plus, he seemed ok with Glasses, so Glasses it was.
The sun was already going down, and the oncoming darkness was starting to give the guys a little twitch in the back of their hands. That wasn’t good. These guys were new to the patrol, so they would be experiencing smells, sights, and sounds they never heard before. With their hearts pumping, and their body full of adrenaline, there was no telling what they would do.
I guess this is what separates the boys from the men.
1900 rolled up way too soon. The humvees could be seen on the horizon; seven trucks to seat seventeen soldiers. Rocker looked up. The boys looked jumpy, wide-eyed, and restless. Many of these men hadn’t slept in days, and it would be days still before they were given any leave. The trucks were approaching fast, and a mutual sense of anxiety swept over all of them. He sat with Kibbles and a driver who called himself Beeze. Pvt. Pallet manned the gun, every once in a while glancing down in Rocker’s direction, as if to look for some sort of approval. Regardless of how pointless this recognition was, Rocker took it as a sign of respect. He leaned back and thought of Tams. As the trucks barreled down the dirt road, for the first time in a long while, he smiled to himself.
How to play soldier:
Anyone who says war is not the answer, obviously never wanted anything in life… either that or their up for reelection in a month or two. Either way, stating that to fight for something is wrong just because it means the other guy has to lose… well, its moronic, isn’t it? I didn’t sign up for the infantry because I was a big ol’ hoo-ah hardass come to serve my country good. I knew full well that all I was doing was playing scapegoat for the high up hard to reach swine our country is really made of. But I was alright with that, figuring I might as well get the benefits, and take myself off that damn draft list. Guess I figured wrong. It’s been about three weeks since I last slept, and longer than that since id heard from Tams. She’s probably off on some other guy’s nuts by now… it’s been about six months. Kibbles can’t help but to rip on me ‘bout it. “Hell, she probably missed ya so much she cooked up your brother, can’t hardly tell the difference anyhow!” Then with a cackle he’d sling up his rifle and march off like he owned the damned joint. Typical f**king Kibbles. Hasn’t a moment gone by that I haven’t wondered how far I could shove that rifle up his a**. Back in basic, he was the know-it-all. The guy who’d studied the soldier’s handbook so much he could fart it out word for word in his sleep. He was the drill sergeant’s lapdog, living only to lick the can clean so serge wouldn’t dirty his a**. That’s where the name Kibbles came from.
So anyways, backing off the latrine licker, my name’s Rocker. Cpl. Allen Rocker, US Army. I’m signed for a four year contract, and I’ve been here for about six months. Contrary to popular belief, things don’t get easier as time goes on. In fact, things have just gotten worse. In the past few months, three of the seven guys I went to basic with were KIA, and another went home in a wheelchair. Half his face is still in that damned village we took a hit from. I saw him go down, too. We were just walking through, half speed, when a scream rang out. At least I think it was a scream, I mean… I guess I should say a loud noise, because the whole god damned patrol hit the floor. I looked up from the dirt to see him just sitting there, staring at his arm. It was sitting about a foot away from him, crumpled in a bloody, useless, heap. This poor b*****d managed to blurt out a “-oh sunnova…” before passing out, becoming a pile of deadweight, a liability, and a sickening torment in my memory for lifetimes to come. The last thing I remember is my world growing dim as a sharp pain joined in with my other senses and our squad leader ran up with a medic and a stretcher.
I awoke three days later, here in the med bay, our sad excuse for a hospital when we’re on the road. I gotta say though, they keep this morphine thing going for me, I’m gonna have to get shot a hell of a lot more often. The IV is a great improvement to those MREs too. However, as all good things must eventually end… I get put back into the field in about a week. They did put me on PTS watch, blaming my nightmares on the recent joyride of death and explosions. I relax and let the drugs take a hold of me. Sneaking in the occasional smoke, I’m enjoying the R&R while I can get it. My eyes close, and once again I wish I could let myself sleep.
Chapter 1 6m, 23d, 14:17
Rocker woke up and shook his legs. It had been a few days since he had used them, and he wondered if they still worked. A little twinge made him grimace, reminding him of why he was here in the first place. The headache was still ringing in his ears.
Too much morphine…
He sat up, and dropped back down into his bed. His vision began to blur, causing the camo netting to blend into itself and form a solid wall. He was the only one in med bay, save the nurse, and he felt the loneliness sink in. This was the third week in med bay, and also his last. In fact, Diaz was supposed to be here to retrieve him at 1400. Where was that b*****d? Rocker slumped back into his comfortable suffering position, a position not unlike a fetal ball. His stomach turned again, shooting another twinge at him.
1st Sgt. Diaz came in at about 1500. His ACUs looked ragtag, as if he had just lost a clawing match with a bear. Without much ceremony, he pinned a purple heart on Rocker’s shoulder and helped him to his feet.
“Congrats, you morphine junkie, on getting shot in the a**. Now get moving, CO wants you in working order by tomorrow night. We’re headed out for a patrol in some dank little village about 4 clicks southwest. We leave at 1900, so let’s go.”
Rocker arrived back at the hooch later that night. His arrival was met with a cold silence, a dismal fact tore at his heart. The hooch was almost empty. Ryan sat in a crumpled up state. His eyes were fixed on the ground, as they seemingly had been for hours. Save Ryan and Kibbles, the other bunks had been packed up and cleaned of all personal belongings. Rocker knew what that meant. He wasn’t the only one to get hit in that village. That meant that the other 16 or so men in his platoon… were dead. Rocker dropped his c-bag on the floor, and almost fell onto his dusty bunk. Gaines, Mack, Coriner… they were gone. His head began spinning, and he felt as if he would pass out. He would have done just that, had he not felt a firm arm grip onto his shoulder.
“Stay with us, man. We waited too long to see if you made it… you can’t leave us now.” Rocker looked up to see Kibbles bracing him upright, to keep him from falling over. This wasn’t the Kibbles he knew. Kibbles was an a*****e, everyone knew that. What happened in that village that turned an a** like Kibbles into, well, this? He gave a hard stare, right into Kibbles eyes. Kibbles didn’t flinch.
“What the hell happened out there man?”
Chapter 2 6m, 24d, 07:34
Rocker woke with a start. It was the only sleep he’d gotten in a while, but it was hardly worth it. Every time he closed his eyes he saw that village… He’d had dreams in which it was he who was sitting there, staring at what used to be his arm. With a shiver going down his spine, he lifted out of his bunk. There was too much activity going on… Rocker looked around.
You’ve got to be kidding me… Cherries?
New guys, lots of them, stared at him as if he were a ghost. They looked frightened, with fresh shaves and clean clothes. It made Rocker and Kibbles’ scruffy beards look almost inhuman, making them look at least twenty years the senior of half of the new guys. In reality he was no more than a year older than any of them, but there was no way he was going to let this illusion go and not have some fun. He saw one of them fixated on him out of the corner of his eye, and decided to direct his fun in his general direction.
“What the hell you starin’ at, boy? You wanna keep that pretty head of yours, keep it out of my business, hear?”
“Y-y-yessir!” The cherry snapped his head away, and Kibbles couldn’t help but to burst out into a laugh. The kid’s face turned bright red, and he pushed his scrawny finger up his nose to fix his glasses. Rocker shot him a sideways grin, inviting him into the fun. Kibbles drew out his knife, and snuck up behind the new kid with the glasses.
“You hear what he said, son?” He put the knife to the back of the kid’s neck. “Lieutenant Rocker doesn’t like you givin’ him the stares when you come into his hooch. Should I take the left eye, or the right, sir?” The new kid began to seize up, and started to let tears run. Rocker was laughing too hard to come up with a retort, so Ryan walked over.
“Chill out, Kibbles, cut the poor kid a break, he’ll lose something vital soon enough, without the help of you.” Dead silence filled the room. Every single one of the new guys were staring at him, jaw dropped and wide eyed. “You think I’m kidding?” He stood up, in front of the whole hooch. “Who the hell you think lived in this hooch before you? Saudis? You there, what’s your name?”
“Uh, Renolds, sir.”
“That bunk you just dropped all your s**t at? That was Gaines bed. He got hit by an I.E.D. about a month ago. Now you’re here. Got it?” With this, he left the hooch, leaving the new guys to murmur between themselves of what their fates were going to be. Rocker smiled at Kibbles.
“Think we should let ‘em know we’re not sirs?”
“Let’s let them think what they want for a little while.” He smiled back. This new Kibbles was going to be fun.
Chapter 3 6m, 24d, 18:40
They sat in a low patch of dirt, cleaning our rifles, checking their ammo, and praying silently to themselves. Now that Rocker had become the senior player in the game called soldier, it was his job to step up and be the platoon leader. As such, he was now going from cherry to cherry reminding them how to turn their safety on, so that “You don’t end up shooting me in the a** again.” Glasses was sitting on the end, reciting to himself the rules of engagement. After scaring the life out of the kid, Kibbles and Rocker decided not to give the kid too harsh a nickname. Plus, he seemed ok with Glasses, so Glasses it was.
The sun was already going down, and the oncoming darkness was starting to give the guys a little twitch in the back of their hands. That wasn’t good. These guys were new to the patrol, so they would be experiencing smells, sights, and sounds they never heard before. With their hearts pumping, and their body full of adrenaline, there was no telling what they would do.
I guess this is what separates the boys from the men.
1900 rolled up way too soon. The humvees could be seen on the horizon; seven trucks to seat seventeen soldiers. Rocker looked up. The boys looked jumpy, wide-eyed, and restless. Many of these men hadn’t slept in days, and it would be days still before they were given any leave. The trucks were approaching fast, and a mutual sense of anxiety swept over all of them. He sat with Kibbles and a driver who called himself Beeze. Pvt. Pallet manned the gun, every once in a while glancing down in Rocker’s direction, as if to look for some sort of approval. Regardless of how pointless this recognition was, Rocker took it as a sign of respect. He leaned back and thought of Tams. As the trucks barreled down the dirt road, for the first time in a long while, he smiled to himself.
