Categories > Original > Sci-Fi0 Reviews
A first-person perspective story about a guy in World War 3
I took the pack, and I had to strain my arms to keep it at the same level he had given it to me at. I slipped one arm into the strap, and then the other. It rested on my shoulders awkwardly, pulling me backwards. I didn't stumble though, to my drill sergeants' great surprise. He lifted his hands up, and put three fingers from each hand under each strap. He lifted it slightly, and dropped it. The rough hewn material of the pack rubbed hard against my back, making me wince slightly in pain.
"I want you to do 3 laps around the base while the rest of these so-called soldiers run the obstacle course. Now Go."
I did as I was told. Despite the early hours, it was already fairly hot. I ran to the edge of the base camp, and followed next to the tall fence topped with barbed coils. Not even halfway through the first lap, the rubbing of the heavy pack had already torn open the skin on my shoulders and lower back. I felt blood begin to coat my whole back, making it even more painful to run, as it made my back chafe.
I finally finished the first lap, but by then the others had run the obstacle course close to 8 times each, and were now on breaks. I saw my bunkmate, Spence, ahead of me, a small paper cup in his hand. As I reached him, I didn't stop for I knew the drill sergeant was watching from somewhere. He began to run next to me, and handed the cup towards me, making sure not to spill the slightly dirty water inside.
"Take it Smith. You look like shit. My brother told me that the drill sergeants always pick one guy to torture the most. It's almost like a game for them, and I guess you're the one who got picked this time. I'm really sorry man, I better get back to the rest of the squad before they notice I'm gone and get angry. Take it easy man, don't kill yourself."
I was too out of breathe to say a word, so I merely nodded my head slowly. He turned and ran back to the rest of the men, and I was once again alone on my run. Halfway through my last lap, I tripped over myself, to tired to lift my legs all the way. It was at the worst possible moment. The drill sergeant saw it, and he sprinted over to my side.
"What the hell do you think you're doing? There is no resting. Get on your feet now!" I did as I was told, but not without much pain and difficulty. I saw the gleam of anger in his eyes diminish slightly when he saw the blood dripping from my back, but then it flared back even stronger when I got to my feet, and wasn't able to stand with my back straight. He walked around to my side, stuck his baton in between my back and the pack, lifted it, and held it there for a little bit.
"Straighten your back." A rush of blood came as I did, and so did a huge torrent of pain as he then dropped the pack hard on my raw back. I winced, but tried not to show it much. "Jog in place maggot." My legs began to move up and down in the rhythm of jogging as I obeyed him.
"You will now jog to the middle of the base. You will jog in place with the pack on your back until I tell you you can stop. I will be watching the whole time. If you stop before I say so, I will have you charged with treason. You will go to jail for the rest of your natural born life you maggot. Now GO!"
I ran to the middle of the base camp, to a part that was covered by lush green, French grass. I jogged in place. It wasn't as difficult as the laps, for the pack wasn't rubbing as much. I knew though that by the middle of the night it would be hell. I looked to the sky when I heard a slight rumble, and I saw the ominous grey clouds gathering and covering the country. Rain, the perfect thing.
The curfew bell rang through the loud speakers of the camp, and every soldier ran to ther barracks to sleep. Every soldier that is, but me. I kept up my jogging-in-place. The rain began to fall, and it wasn't bad at first, cooling off the air and me. Soon though, it was a hurricane of flying daggers. I was shivering; the only thing keeping my blood pumping was the movement of my legs. Soon, it was so painful to move my freezing legs that I thought I was dying.
Just as my legs were really starting to droop lower and lower, my drill sergeant appeared in the dark. "Keep your legs moving maggot. When you ship off, you will by the first to die. No one will miss you. You will be nothing more than a stain on Germanys land. No one will notice you are gone. A true hero will use your body to shield himself. Give up now maggot. Give up now and save me from getting a cold in this rain. Just stop jogging and you can go home." He reached for the baton at his waist.
He circled around me, throwing the insults, telling me how worthless I am. I kept up the jogging though. Now I had a reason. I was going to prove him wrong. I would show him.
He slammed the baton down on my right thigh as I lifted it. I grunted, but kept going. Every time my right leg lifted, he slammed his baton down on my thigh. He then went to the other side of me, and did the same to my left leg. Seeing that wasn't going to stop me, he began to pummel me with the baton in the stomach. I gritted my teeth, bared them as if in a snarl, and kept up my jogging.
My drill sergeant gave up after a few more minutes of abuse, and walked off to his barrack. The pain in my body kept me going although. It would have stopped most. When morning came, I was almost to the point of breaking. I just gritted my teeth harder, and kept going.
The drill sergeant appeared again an hour or so before the dinner bell. He began to harass and abuse me again. He kenw the places where he had hit me during the night would be soft and raw now, so he hit me at those same places. Each hard hit hurt more than two times that of the previous night. The rain was gone now, and I kept running. He also kept hitting. Finally, the dinner bell rang.
"Alright Smith, your done, you can stop." he said gruffly, almost as if he was dissappointed.
I fell forward and vomited on the grass. The pack fell off, and the sand and cubes of iron fell out all over the ground. I passed out from exhaustion, pain, and dehydration soon after.
I woke up during the night to the visions of the horrible day before. My lips weren't chapped anymore, and I looked around at my surroundings. I was in the hospital wing of the camp, and there was an IV in my arm putting fluid into my body to hydrate me again. I was covered in bruises, but they were most prominent on my right and left thighs, and stomach.
I laid back down, and fell asleep. A few hours later I awoke again, refreshed but still in a lot of pain. Spence was sitting next to me, a tray in his hand with disgusting looking slop/food on it.
"Mornin' bro. Sarg ordered me to bring food to ya." I looked at him, but wasn't able to speak, my tongue was swollen in my mouth. I pointed to the cup of water on the tray, and he handed it to me. I sat up, and gulped it down quickly. My tongue soaked up the water, and went back to its normal size, and I sighed in relief. He handed me the tray of "food", and I plugged my nose as I took bites from a brown mush Spence had proclaimed was meatloaf. I wished I hadn't drank all the water already. I finished the meal, and we talked a little bit. Finally, our drill sergeant entered the wing and approached us.
"Thank you Private Spence. Take the tray back please." they saluted each other, and Spence left with the tray. "You surprised me Smith. But don't think I respect you. I won't respect you 'till you come back from the battle and show me it was your fault we won. You get shipped out tomorrow morning. Get up and get some personal training in." he left without saluting me, and he talked to the nurse as he passed her.
She took out the IV, re-applied the bandages on my still torn up back, and I left. I pulled on camo pants in my barrack, and slipped a dark green wife-beater on over my head. I strolled the base a little, trying to gain my bearings. I did a little target practice, ran the obstacle course once, then went to sleep.
I awoke in my bunk to the bell. I jumped down, and was the first to line up. As the drill sergeant passed me, he glared at me harshly. We were told that the day had come that we would die.
After getting our rifles, handguns, and combat knives, we were given our helmets. We were completely suited for combat, so we mafe our way to the trucks. We jumped on, and Spence and I were ordered to hold onto the sides of the first truck as first deployment troops.
A few hours later of rough driving, we arrived at a small clearing in a forest. We heard the firing of rifles, and the explosions of grenades. I leaped off the truck just as it stopped and used the momentum of it to launcch me forward, at the very front. Our squad leader addressed us, and told us the situation. Two squads of fellow marines were being held at the bottom of a hill, topped with two bunkers holding 50 caliber rifles. Our fellow troops were pressed back, and were unable to advance. We were the reinforcements. We ran forward, for most of us, to our deaths.
Shots whizzed past my helmeted head. My torn back was pressed had against a thick log for cover, and Spence was to my immediate right. Six other marines were behind the log, all of us unable to move anywhere. One of the 50 calibers had taken us as its main targets. My mind was set though, I was still going to prove the drill sergeant wrong.
"Alright guys, make a distraction for me, I'm gonna take out that gun." I yelled over the chaos of the battle around us.
"Your crazy Smith, but I'll do it." Spence agreed, along with the other 6 maries. "On my 10 guys." he yelled. "1. 2. 3. 4." Another long line of fire from the 50 caliber peppered the log. It had worn down enough of it at one point, and three huge bullets broke through the log and exploded through Spence's chest. Blood spurted from the wounds, and he hunched forward, spewing blood from his half-open mouth.
I screamed in anger, and dropped my rifle at my side. I grabbed my friend's already dead body and held it close to me, blood coating both of us now. I looked into his dead brown eyes, and shook my head in disbelief. Tears sprang forth from my eyes, and dropped on my friends blood spattered face. They ran down his cheeks, cleaning small rivers on them.
"Come on Spence. Wake up man. How am I supposed to do this without you? You're my only friend. Come on man. What about our plans to drink to our victory today. We have to drink...." I buried my face on his blood-covered chest, and sobbed. Finally, one of the other marines slapped me on the back of the head.
"Come on Smith, avenge his death. Let's go with your plan. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10."
The other six marines jumped up and scattered, firing their rifles and taking the 50 calibers attention from the log. I left my friends dead body, and grabbed my rifle. I ran around to the back of the hill, and hid in the trees. I slowly made my way up the hill silently, unseen, unheard. I saw on German soldier halfway up the hill.
I hid behind a large boulder, aimed, and let out a controlled burst of 5 rounds from my issued M-16 combat rifle. The rounds slammed him in the chest, and his body fell dead, and rolled down the hill. I crouched, and walked up the hill. I passed the dead guards rolling body, and saw a picture of a beautiful woman and young girl clutched in his dead hand. This whole time I had thought of these enemy soldiers as animals. Now I remembered they were also people, they too had families. But they had also killed my best friend.
I sprinted up the rest of the hill, and put my back against the bunkers concrete back wall. I slid over to the edge, and the back of a German soldier greeted me as I looked around quickly. I jumped out from behind the bunker, and pumped 5 rounds into his exposed back. His body flew forward and rolled down the other side of the hill. I ran to the wall again, and looked around the corner.
Just around the corner was the opening of the bunker to the 50 caliber rifle. I took a grenade from my belt, took out the pin, and tossed it into the entrance. I heard it clank and roll on the concrete ground inside, and then the screams of realization as the German soldiers saw it.
It exploded, and I saw bodies and gore fly out of the small opening at the front of the bunker. I looked in to confirm all dead, and when the smoke was clear, I saw the inside walls were covered in blood. Bits of men were laid around everywhere. I held back my urge to puke, and went on to the next bunker.
When I reached it, I was taken by surprise by a soldier. He slammed the butt of his gun into my nose, breaking it. Blood sprayed from my mouth as I fell back, dropping my rifle as I went. He followed me down, and began to beat me senseless. I was finally able to reach down to my boot, and I retrieved my large combat knife. I stabbed it hard into the mans back, and knew I had punctured his heart. His now lifeless body rolled off of me as I pushed it, and I took out my pistol from waist holster.
I jumped in through the bunker entrance, and put two rounds into the soldeirs' head who was firing the rifle. I then put three rounds into the chest of the nearest German, and one round into the last German's leg as he ran toward me. He slammed me into the wall, and I felt the huge scabs on my back reopen and blood flow. I slammed my elbow down on his collarbone twice, and I felt it give under the blows.
He fell backwards, screaming in pain. I tackled him and then straddled his downed body. I grabbed a tuft of his blonde hair and slammed his head down on the concrete ground over and over. I kept slamming it into the ground, completely emotionless, until my fellow marines showed up. They pulled me away from the Germans mutilated body, but I was able to kick it once as they dragged me out.
I looked around, and saw that close to 15 Germans had surrendered and were being taken away. We loaded up on the trucks again, and headed back to the base camp. Once there, our drill sergeant lined us up at the center of camp. He walked up and down the line of us, looking at us each in turn.
Finally, he stopped in front of me and lifted his hand. He placed it on my shoulder gently, and smiled. "I knew you had the spirit of a real warrior in you Smith. I'm proud of you." He patted my shoulder lightly, and then walked off. I had seen moisture building in his eyes as he spoke. Maybe I wasn't just an ordinary soldier.