They headed back to the staging area and satdown.
“Murray, why the hell did you scream like agirl?” Kenneth asked.
“There was a fucking snake in my hole. Connellyactually wanted ME to go in and get it.” Brendon shivered and theothers laughed. “He got a fucking stick and pulled it out withouteven saying a word.” There was a sort of weird awe in Brendon'svoice when he stated that.
Patrick just smiled. “Now, that's funny.” Hesnorted, causing the others to chuckle.
“How did you think you did?” Brendon askedthem.
“I sucked ass. I had a misfire and didn't get tofinish the last fifteen rounds,” Kenneth said, glumly.
“I used to go out shooting with my dad backhome. I'm hoping I did well,” Ryan said.
“I think I shot the shit out of the closetargets, but completely missed out on the 200 meters and above,”said Brendon.
Patrick just shrugged. “I think I did well.”
They could hear the “pop pop pop” from the nextgroup and lapsed into a comfortable silence.
***
After they all fired, King stood up andannounced the scores.
Brody - 25, Gracin - 17, Roslin - 15 Murry - 30,and outfuckingstanding, Smith - 40 - a perfect performance!” Kingeven shot Patrick a grin.
The Oklahoma native grinned broadly, his blueeyes dancing. “Thank you, Drill Sergeant!”
Ryan congratulated his friend and then poutedbecause it seemed that all that shooting he had done with his dadwas useless.
“It's time to indoctrinate you on the finemilitary cuisine called the MREs,” King said, with a grin. Threeboxes were carried out and placed in front of the formation. “Youwill walk up to the box in a single file line and take the firstone you see. If I see any of you being a bitch and picking what youwant I will pull your ass out of the line and make you watch aseveryone else eats their chow.”
After everyone grabbed one of the plasticcovered meals they all sat around. Surprisingly, all three of theirDrill Sergeants joined them.
Ryan read off what he had from the stamp infront of it. “Tuna a la King? I got Tuna fucking a la King?Seriously?”
Brendon guffawed.
“Freckles, that is the food of the Gods,”Phillip said, a small joking smile on his face. “If you don't wantit we can always put it back. You don't mind waiting until dinnerat the chow hall, right?”
“No problems with the tuna for me, DrillSergeant,” Ryan quickly said. If he didn't eat soon he was sure hewould kill Murray and eat his spleen. Even thinking that caused himto pause. Well, shit, Grabowskiwasdriving him crazy.
“Dude! I got pork,” Brendon said happily. Hebegan to open it, and found it was a lot easier said than done.After two minutes of fighting with the plastic he got pissed. Hefinally felt the plastic give. His pork steak went flying throughthe air and landed neatly on the ground.
“Ouch! That sucks.” Kenneth laughed. He had hischeese opened and was spreading it across the hard cracker.
Brendon blinked and proceeded to pick up thepork and wiped off any dirt, sloshed it under water from hiscanteen and then ate it.
“I think this stuff was around when mygrandfather was in the Army,” Patrick said, looking at a substancethat resembled spaghetti. He took a small bite and grimaced. “Ormaybe pre-civil war era.”
“You boys don't know how easy you got it,” Kingsaid. “You have heaters. When I joined we ate this fine food cold.”The other two Sergeants nodded in agreement.
Brendon let out a squeal and held up histreasure. “Holy shit! I have M & M's!”
Every man in the platoon turned and glared atthe blond.
“I hate you,” Ryan muttered, thinking now wouldbe a great time to cut out Brendon's spleen and steal the fucking M& Ms. He looked in his back and found thecharms hard candy.They werelike Jolly Ranchers only not as good.
Kenneth finally opened his entrée and gagged.“Whatisit?” He held it open so the others could examineit.
