Drill Sergeant Connelly just snickered.
Ryan was getting used to the extra attentionthat Drill Sergeant Grabowski was giving him. Getting used to beingthe key word, because he was sure that the Drill Sergeant wastrying to drive him crazy, and it was working.
They were out in the midday sun trying to learnto march. It's like everything else in the Army. Nothing you knewprior to basic was right. The fuckers had to teach each man how towalk, talk and fucking breathe right. Ryan swore if he heard 'yourMilitary left' again he was going postal and kill everything infront of him.
To Ryan it became a game. He wouldn't letGrabowski drive him to quit. So each time the dreaded drill wouldsingle him out he would stand tall, eyes straight ahead and takeit.
Ryan could take all of the physical stuff, therunning, the push-ups, the sit-ups. Hell, Front, Back, Go, was moreof a game than anything else. They learned during their first daythat Front, back, go was Drill Sergeant Grabowski’s favoritepunishment. He was extremely fond of letting them do the exerciseuntil 'he was tired' - the bastard never got fucking tired.
“Alright, I've dicked around with this enough,”SSG Grabowski said. He rounded on the group and yelled out “HALFRIGHT FACE!”
It was two in the afternoon and they had been onthe drill field since noon. Each man was sweating like a pig andall had to suppress a groan.
They executed a short cut to the right andwaited for the next order.
“FRONT LEANING REST POSITION, GO!” Grabowskishouted the order, daring anyone to deny him.
Like anyone in the group would tell the ninefoot, two hundred pound gorilla ‘no’, Ryan thought sarcastically.He dropped down into the 'up' position of a push-up. His body wasarrow straight and he was looking straight forward.
“I don't get it, Privates. We are explainingthis like we're talking to a bunch of five year olds and yet youamazing fuck-ups aren't getting it. What exactly do we need to doto help you along with this?” Grabowski said. It went withoutsaying that it was a rhetorical question. “Down.”
This was their call to dip down with the bodystill straight and head still raised.
“I mean, seriously. What can we do as yourinstructors to help you with this?” He sounded sincere but Ryanknew it was just another mind-fuck.
Unfortunately, Brendon didn't get the memobecause he chose that exact moment to tell Drill Sergeant Grabowskiwhat would help.
“Well, Drill Sergeant Grabowski ...” Brendonstarted.
“Holy Mary mother of fucking Christ on a stick!”Drill Sergeant Connelly yelled. “Furry, what the fuck do you thinkyou’re fucking doing?” His long stride had him in front of Brendonin seconds. He dropped down and was on his knees, kneeling until hecould look Brendon straight in the eyes. “Did you just infer thatDrill Sergeant Grabowski was fucking up?”
If they had been somewhere else every single manin the platoon would have killed Brendon. SSG.Grabowski wouldn'thave had to lift a finger.
“Down!” Phillip commanded. “Did he say I wasfucking up, Mark?”
“I think so.”
“Well, hell! Private Furry, Recover. And ONLYPrivate Furry,” Grabowski said. “At ease!” he demanded of Brendon,who let all of the tension drain out of his body.
Sgt. Connelly stood behind Brendon who wasred-faced and wanting to kill himself, just to save the guys thetrouble.
“Since Private Furry has decided that I'mfucking up he will watch the rest of you take my punishment for me.You should all thank Private Furry for pointing out this graveinjustice,” Grabowski told the group.
A round of ‘thanks’ and ‘way to go, hero’ weremaking its way through the soldiers.
“Up!” Grabowski said, as he began to walkthrough the bodies still on the ground. “If I hadanyideathat I was fucking you up so badly, I would have had Top courtmartial me. I mean hell, ‘cause if I'm causing the fuck ups, then Ishould take the responsibility. I'm charged with taking care of youand babysitting your asses. So, anyone else want to tell me how I'mfucking up?” He paused and thought for a moment. “Down.”
“Ahh, I'm not even doing this right. Fuck it,”he said. “BACK!” With that said every single man flipped over totheir back and lifted their legs up a few inches from theground.
There were already a few grunts and groans whenthey began to kick their feet up and down. Ryan thought flutterkicks sucked ass. They looked deceptively easy to do until you hadto keep your BOOTED feet off of the ground a mere few inches andkick them up and down like you were a fucking cheerleader.
“Furry, do you think that I have learned mylesson?” Phillip asked, turning his full hazel-eyed gaze onto the'resting' man.
“Yes, Drill Sergeant Grabowski.” Brendonanswered, praying the drill would stop this insanity.
“Fuck that, don't be a weak momma's boy, Furry.I fucked up. Make me suffer sooo good.” Phillip had an evil look inhis eye when he reached for his bottle of water. Cracking open thetop, he took a long, deep drink.
The fucker was trying to kill them. Ryan wanteda drink of water so badly he was thinking about licking the sweataround his mouth, just to get something wet on his tongue.
