Even though I hope you can call me soon, will you send a letter back? Something to use as a keepsake. Something I can read over and over before I go to bed each night. Take care of yourself, Lukas. Know that I’m spending all my time dreaming of the day I get to see you again.
Love you, miss you - Mags.
CHAPTER 14
Lukas
My Mags,
Fuck, it’s good to hear from you. I wish I could hear your voice, baby. Wish I could hear you tell me out loud that you love me. I won’t be able to have my phone with me until I’m done with boot camp and start SOI.
I’m halfway through boot camp. They tell me I’m on my way to being a Marine. This isn’t what I expected at all. There’s so much yelling. I think it’ll get better once I’m done with camp, but I don’t know.
I hadn’t realized how little my family yelled until I came out here. Even when my parents are pissed, or when I’d get in fights with my brothers, we’d bicker, but it isn’t like this. Day after day of someone screaming in your face takes a toll on a guy. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.
Most of my days are spent cleaning my gear, my guns, practicing for when we’re out in the field for real. I thought I was in shape coming out here, but boy did I get my ass kicked. Nothing like running ten miles with a full pack on to humble a man.
I met a cool guy here, Chris Collins. We were doing a seven mile endurance run, and we both stopped to puke at the same time. Found out he’s from Wisconsin, so he’s a Midwest guy just like me. He’s a few years younger, around Harper’s age, and even though I’m only three years older, I feel like I need to big brother him in a way. He’s always full of energy, ready to fight, and is going to get himself in trouble if he doesn’t cool it. But I’m happy I met him. Happy to have a friend here that reminds me of back home.
In a way, we’re all friends. It’s weird to see people coming from so many different backgrounds. We’re from different states, some grew up rich, some poor. Some with loving families, some who never knew their family. Different religions, different skin colors, but we’re all going through the same shit now, so we’re all alike. Proof that we’re all the same, really. Or that we can all find a common ground if we would just try.
Sometimes, I feel myself slipping into a funk. The only freedom we get is if we go to church on Sunday. It’s a few hours that feels like a break from all the work, so believe it or not, we’ve all found some sort of religion. Sometimes, I sit in the pew and stare, zoning out for the entire time. I like to think back on all of our old memories. Lately, I’ve been trying to pinpoint the moment I fell in love with you. Crazy to think that was almost ten years ago. We were just kids. Remember when you got your braces? You were throwing a fit, crying in your room when I came over. I already loved you then.
Sometimes, I wish I could go back to those days. We had so much freedom. The only thing we had to worry about was getting back home before it was dark. We got to spend so much time together. I wish I could go back to those moments and soak them up a little more, knowing what it’s like now.
I’m probably not making sense. I just feel scattered lately, like my thoughts are all over the place. It’s hard not to hear from you. I’ll keep writing, and the second they say boot camp is done, I’m going to call you, and wherever you are, I promise to come visit.
Love you, miss you baby.
- Lukas.
Weeks later, I officially graduate from boot camp, and the first thing I do when I get my phone back is dial the number Mags had left on the bottom of her letter.
My heart pounds in my chest, fingers shaking so badly they slip over my phone. It rings once, then twice, and I squeeze my eyes shut, sending up a prayer to the heavens that she answers.
“Lukas!” she squeals, and the smile that splits my face is probably the biggest I’ve ever had.
“Hey, baby,” I croak. “I’m coming to see you.”
CHAPTER 15
Lukas
Boot camp was followed by two months of SOI, where I learned to shoot to kill. I was in Marine Combat Training where I was trained to fight and to ambush. They worked us to the bone, practicing nonstop so that each movement becomes muscle memory.
When it counts, when someone's life is on the line, you don’t want to hesitate, they’d say.
My life growing up on a farm in the country has done me well. Even with my shoulder going stiff at times, I’m agile and I don’t mind getting dirty. I’ve been in the pen with enough wild bulls that I don’t scare easily—the perfect recipe for a combat Marine.
I can strip my service rifle for cleaning in twenty seconds. Each second my heart beats furiously against my chest as my brain begs my fingers not to fumble.You might be in the field with an enemy ready to fire at you,they remind me. Each step we take is to prepare us so that we’re never sitting ducks. Always prepared, practically looking for our next fight.
I get the meaning behind it. I don’t want to be under attack, bullets firing every which way and have my body freeze up onme. Even if my mind isn’t right, my body needs to remember what to do.
I’ll soon head out on my first field operation in Twentynine Palms. We’ll be out there for a month or so to hone our training. Most of our food will come from MREs, or something that’s bone dry and dehydrated to begin with. We’ll get a taste of what the real thing might be like, and all the while, I’ll be silently hoping I'll never have to experience it.
Collins is psyched. He and the other guys love it here. They hoot and cheer at the thought of finding the enemy, of fighting and sacrificing for their country. They jokingly ask when we’re going to hear about deployment.
But those guys aren’t me.
