July 4, 2533 (UNSC Calendar)/
Camp Mars IX, Mars, Sol System
"Wake up, wake up, WAKE. UP!"
I'm already awake goddamit.
"Is that so mister?"
I opened my eyes Fuck, thinking out loud again.
"Yes staff sergeant!" I yelled as I literally jumped out of my bed. No good in antagonizing the large black man that could look like he could break someone in half.
"I though so," he said, his voice a deep rumble. "Everyone put on your track shorts and your running shoes! We are going for a walk."
I had been somewhat expecting this to happen, but not forty minutes after I had fallen asleep. I felt dizzy because I got up to fast and it took me longer than I would've wanted to to get dressed. I was still one of the first ones to leave the barracks. I could see recruits from the other six barracks stumbling out as well. Each group had a different drill sergeant with them. Barracks Number Two had gotten the devil himself. Lucky us. It was warmer in here than in the New Paris spaceport. There were weather satellites taking care of that, and we were also closer to the ecuator than New Paris was. Still, I couldn't help but wonder how the hell didn't a major city get their own weather satellite or something to change their climate into something a little warmer.
I sighed and noticed that it was still cold enough for my breath to fog up. A few moments later the entirety of Barrack Two was outside, shivering.
"Let's go!" said SSgt Gaduka with his booming voice.
He started at a fast jog towards the back of the camp, I was starting to ge tinto rhythm when he yelled, "Whoever finishes up more than ten seconds behind me gets latrine duty for a month!"
That got us going. Unfortunately, the sergeant was already at a slow sprint, which was more than enough of a challenge for us.
I wasn't a particularly fast runner, but eight years of running laps had made me a good distance runner and as close to a decent speed runner as most people could ever be without being good at it naturally. I kept up the sergeant's pace, but before long I was breathing hard. I could hear stumbling and even people tripping down. Around twenty minutes later, just when I was starting to fall behind, I noticed some sort of installation in the distance. This gave me the resolve I needed to run a little faster. Three minutes later we were outsider of a complex surrounded by a fence. I was about four seconds behind the sergeant and was sixth recruit to arrive overall. I turned around to see a crowd of forty recruits sprinting as fast as they could to avoid latrine duty. There were around seven that didn't make it in time.
Gaduka walked to them and asked them for their names, they answered in between breaths in weak voices.
Gabuka nodded as the last man told him his name.
"You are luck men," he announced. "There will be no latrine duty for you today or any day of the following month."
There were sounds of complaint from the rest of us recruits. All this for nothing?
"However," he resumed. "You will have the honor of being the first to go into the ditch tonight!"
That did not sound good at all. In fact, it sounded even worse than latrine duty. The Ditch.
Another drill sergeant opened the chain link fence for us, this one was armed with an MA37 rifle. The armed sergeant led us into the complex. My heart sank when we reached our destination. The ditch was about thirty feet wide and at least two hundred meteres long. At least. That wasn't everything. The ditch had ditches within istself and barbed wire a foot from the ground. I think there was even a section of the ditch (the main one) that was partially underwater. Or undermud-water, whatever you want to call it. On top of all that there were bits and pieces of animal flesh all over the place. Hell, there were even a few pig carcasses littered over the place.
"You will cross this ditch and you will do it fast! If you don't you'll get latrine duty."
You could almost hear the groan, but no one had enough energy to actually groan. Another trainer appeared with two MA37's, he tossed one to Gabuka and he walked to the middle of the ditch.
"You seven," he gestured to the ones that arrived late, "will be the first ones."
They moved into place and the staff sergeant yelled "Go!"
They dropped and started crawling through the mud, they were making slow progress to start with, but just when they got the hang of it, the three armed men started shooting bullets right over their heads, it seemed to be live ammo too. One man in particular got a scare when the pig carcass he was trying to get around of got riddled with bullets.
"Fucking FUCK!" a very appropiate statement considering the circumstances. Unfortunately for the recruit, he didn't shut up right away. "This is horseshit!" he continued.
Gabuka ordered his subordinates to cease fire.
"You, get over here!" his voice now dangerous.
The man crawled sideways through the ditch and got out, chest out and shoulders pushed slightly back, I'm certain that he did this on purpose to look more intimidating. He failed hopelessly. He was shivering, covered in mud, covered in blood and on top of everything, he was only about 5'5.
"You saying my training is horseshit?" asked Gabuka.
The recruit didn't even think before answering. "Yes, this is fucking insane!"
Gabuka looked at the other drill sergeants and they smiled at him, he smiled back and then turned to face the complaining recruit with a punch to the jaw. I could almost feel it crack.
The recruit collapsed and started weeping, but Gabuka wasn't done. He delivered a kick to the ribs and the man cried out.
"Don't you DARE insult my training," he said as he leaned in on the beaten man. "He pushed himself up on the man's obviously broken ribs. "Gentlemen, we have our first washout."
No one said anything. No one dared. It didn't seem like Gabuka cared what we did because he went on talking.
"Your time now stands at two minutes twelve seconds," he said to the men still in the ditch. "What are you waitng for? GO!"
The men crawled furiously through the mud as the staff sergeant fired a burst dangerously close to their feet.
They finished with a time of four minutes and ten seconds. Gabuka laughed at them as did the other sergeants. I was really starting to not like them. One of them looked like a bulldog and the other one was the skinny type that could probably think of the meanests punishments.
"I need ten more," called out Gabuka. No one moved. He pulled out a baton. I was among the first to reack the starting line of the ditch. Gabuka shocked some of the other recruits just for kicks.
"Go!" he said as he kicked me into the ditch.
I crawled through the ditch, mud and water getting in my mouth and eyes. I could barely breathe.
My mind flashed back to the first time I had crawled under the equivalent of the ditch back in Jericho VII. I had been twelve. I remembered the irregular floor and the barbed wire there. The only difference was that the ditch over there was dry and the barbed wire was higher. Oh, and there wasn't any gunfire or dead carcasses. My uncle was calmly telling me how I should move my arms and legs. It wasn't really all that complicated. "Move your feet Francisco," he had said.
"Move your feet dirtbag!"
I snapped back to reality with live ammuntition flying over me. I rolled into a trench and almost threw up when I landed on a gutted pig carcass. Then it started raining.
"Fucking great," I said, keeping my complaints low so that the sergeant wouldn't hear.
I kept shuffling my hands and feet, moving very slowly under the wires. I think that Bulldog and Skinny fired right in front of us to make us go slower. It was getting fucking ridiculous.
I finally made it out of the ditch, my time slightly over three minutes. I looked over my back, rain obscuring my vision and noticed the rest of the recruits crawling through the mud. The recruit that had complained was still groaning in pain in the floor, no one helping him out.
All of a sudden I felt my body go numb and I doubled over.
"You think you're done? YOU THINK YOU'RE DONE?" someone yelled in my ear.
"What?" was all I could really say.
Bulldog prodded me with his baton and I almost collapsed.
"Give me fifty pushups!" he ordered.
The scene was so cliched, so common that I couldn't help but laugh.
"Think that is funny?" he asked me. "Make that one hundred and fifty."
I dropped to the floor almost as fast as my smile disappeared. My arms were tired from the crawl through the mud and weak from the electricity that had just danced through my body.
I started at a reasonable pace, but when I hit thirty I started slowing down, by the time I had done fifty I could barely lift myself up. Bulldog pushed his boot on my back and my face went into the mud. He leaned close to my ear and whispered to me, "Who ordered you to stop?"
That was more than I could take I swiped his feet from under him and he fell into the mud. I stoop up over him and the last thing I remember from that night was a sharp pain in the back of my neck.
I woke up in a hospital bed next morning. There was a doctor next to me. He saw that I had opened my eyes and he rolled his.
"You mister," he said, "are an idiot."
I groaned, the back of my head still hurt. A lot. He simply shook me awake. The guy was mean for a doctor.
"Report to your barracks immediatelly. You're lucky Gabuka thought you had balls, or else you would be on your way home."
And what would be so bad about going home. I had to physically squeeze something to stop myself from thinking out loud.
"Well what are you waiting for? On your feet."
I stood up lest this mean doctor shocked me with a hidden baton and walked towards my barracks. I still had my muddy clothes on. I couldn't tell wether it was good or bad, but the dried mud in my buttcrack certainly helped me make up my mind. I was also thankful I had been shaved.
I walked in the barracks to find most of the recruits sleeping, some others were taking showers or just milling around. I found out that they had been running the ditch and getting beaten up for at least four hours more after I was knocked out. Then they ran back here and did some marching.
I was now grateful that my head hurt bad enough that it merited some time in the infirmary. I jumped in the showers and took a super quick shower. When the mud was washed from my body I changed into cargo pants. That was what everyone seemed to be wearing, so why not?
Minutes later Gabuka almost brought the door down.
"On the courtyard!"
We all marched, despite having only been here for two days, we were starting to get the gist of boot camp.
"Form two rows of ten and one of nine!" he yelled. Or spoke, his regular tone seemed to be screaming.
We did this as quickly as we could and found ourselves standing at ease. He instructed us about the difference of standing at ease, at attention, and standing easy or rest.
Before we even had time to digest the information he shouted for us to stand at attention. It was pathetic really. The few marines that were here did it right. I did it right as well, but the rest of the recruits did it at different times.
Gabuka proceeded to insult us in two different languages for about one minute straight. He then ordered us at attention again, at ease, at attention, at ease, and so on. Once we had mastered (sort of) the art of moving our left foot upon command we took on the ancient sport of marching. It took a little bit longer, but we managed to march in synchrony within half an hour. The sergeant yelling in out ears wasn't helping with anything, but eventually he got tired. He resumed his position at the front of our little parade and we kept marching in pace behind him. We kept marching, and marching, and marching. We must've walked for two hours at least. It was only then that we turned back. We marched another two hours, this time with Gabuka behind us, if anyone missed a step or walked slower he was promptly shocked by Gabuka's ever present baton.
I managed to stay in step through the duration of the trip. I thanked my uncle endlessly during our march as well.
When we returned to the base, it was only about mid-day. We were allowed lunch and fifteen minutes rest time before we went back to the physical stuff.
This time it was the gym. We all got different routines involving running, lifting weights, doing push-ups, sit ups, pull ups, jumping rope, and some shadow boxing. After I was done, there was a pool of sweat at my feet. The floor was moving sideways. I couldn't help it, I reched for the nearest container and threw up. I managed to prop myself up with some weird machine used for… something.
Bulldog laughed, he had joined Gabuka a few minutes ago.
"Not so tough now are you?" he said with a smile.
I didn't say anything, I just glared at him.
He laughed some more and this time he swiped me. I fell with a noisy thud on the floor. Bulldog left while laughing an I slowly pushed myself up. I was ready to kill that man, but in my current condition I probably would've fallen to the ground before catching up with him.
"Now it's time for the ditch!"
At least half the recruits joined me and emptied their lunches on the floor.
Is soon became a routine. We would wake up at at random time during the night, then we would do something incredibly tiring. We would then either have breakfast or lunch, then do something else that returned that lunch to the floor. Fifteen minutes rest, we would march for what seemed like ages, and finally we would do something tiring before dinner. Now that I think of it, it wasn't much of a routine, the drill sergeants were very imaginative and came up with very tiring excercises. We were even made to dig holes in the ground for three days straight. By the end of my second month in mars I was actually beginning to get used to it. I would end up the days workout, get screamed at, march, lunch, manage to keep my lunch, march some more, and still have enough energy to actually change into my motherfucking ODST jammies.
The part I hated the most was what they called patience. They made us stand at attention in a cold room for hours at a time. The sergeants would then bring in chairs and a table and have their lunch, sometimes they brought datapads and played games on them. That one actually gave me a laugh, as I thought back at Jonah's datapad and it's questionable contents. It had served to keep the morale of Barracks Two comparatively high for a long while. It had been used by everyone that was still here. I used it as well, only that now I felt slightly nervous touching it, still I never passed the chance to have some alone time. I smiled at the thought.
"Castillo!" the staff sergeant yelled. "Is something funny? Why the hell are you smiling during patience time?"
"Am I not allowed to smile staff sergeant?" I asked in a formal tone.
"No you are not!" he yelled at my ear. "In fact, you are not allowed to be happy in my boot camp. Ever!" He took a deep breath. "Is that understood?"
"Yes staff sergeant!" I yelled back.
"Good," he said as he slid back into his chair.
Two hours later I was finally able to move my cramped legs. We had completed the last excercise of the day and were ordered to go to our barracks. I sat on my bed and sighed. I looked around just to realize how empty the building looked with half our original numbers gone. Tarkov was gone too, but it was because all the Hungarians had been rounded up and placed in their individual barracks. The captain even had to request a trainer to be transfered from Reach so that the Hungarians didn't mutter conspirational whispers at themselves without the sergeants being able to understand. Or something like that.
I leaned back on my bed and hit myself on something pointy. I cursed as I bolted back up.
"The fu…" I stopped myself as I noticed a box. Unlike the last box this one was metal as opposed to cardboard. It also had my name and temporary number. Yeah, we still hadn't gotten real dogtags.
Anyways, I opened the box and was surprised to find an ODST body armor. Well, parts of it at least. Actually it was only the armored boots and the armored rucksack. It was somewhat disappointing. Who am I kidding? The armored backpack was empty, what was the purpose of this?
Four hours of sleep later I found out.
"Wake up ladies!" boomed the all to familiar voice. "Tonight we're taking a walk."
Sergeant Gabuka made us put on cargo pants, our newly armored boots, and shoulder the rucksack.
The boots were surprisingly light, only slightly heavier than our regular boots. Kudos to the engineers that created them. The rucksack was empty so nothing to complain about either.
As soon as I exited the building I was surprised to find a pile of rocks waiting for us. "Fill up your schoolbags boys!"
I knew better than complaining, I quickly picked up four relatively large rocks so that my backpack would have some spare space in it. I shoudered it. It could've been heavy, but the backpack still ended up weighing about forty pounds. Later I found out that the rocks had been in fact some sort of dense matal, not just plain martian rocks.
As soon as all of us recruits had shouldered our bags, Gabuka set off towards the ditch. Of course, he was comfortably wearing his fatigues and shirt. No armored rucksack filled with rocks for him. We followed the man at a steady pace, not as fast as usual, but we managed to keep up with him. When I finally saw the complex the ditch was in, we turned ninety degrees to the right and kept on running. We ran maybe twice the distance we had traveled so far. Just when we were about to collapse, Gabuka kept on going. I know, anticlimactic, but it's the truth. We ran, tripped, stood up and ran on. Eventually I started a conversation with Jonah.
"So…" I helpfully started.
"Watcha think about all this Covenant crap?"
I raised my eyebrows.
"To be frank, I'm worried, we get news of Cole's victories, but still hear nothing in between. A war can't be fought with onle space battles every couple of years."
Fucking great I shouldn't have started this conversation.
"I think the Covenant, or whatever they're called are actually kicking our asses out there."
While Jonah rambled a recruit behind us, O'Donell, fell facefirst into the ground. The two men behind him picked him up and placed his arms over their shoulders. They managed to keep up, if only a bit slower than the rest of us.
As Jonah kept going on with his conspiracy theories about ONI, the suspicious time stamps on battles, and the Illuminati, I kept on going without paying much attention. I made my mind wander off into the nice little universe that existed in Jonah's datapad. The girls in there were really quite nice. They knew how to make a soldier happy. Even if I was simply a soldier in training.
The men that had picked up the collapsed O'Donell calling out snapped me out of it. Better that they did, lest a bulge start forming in my pants. They passed O'Donell's arms to me and Jonah. Apparently it was our turn.
Jonah rambled on. I returned to my happy place.
"Are you even listening?" asked Jonah. "What the hell is so funny?"
I failed to notice that I was smiling like and idiot.
"Nothing, never mind." I changed the subject. "Let's speed up, the sergeant is loosing us."
We both sped up a bit despite the pain it caused to our legs and lungs. I spent the rest of the tortuous marathon in silence.
Once we arrived back in our barracks I used whatever was left of my energy to run into the showers so I didn't have to wait in line. Soon it wouldn't be a problem though, with our original numbers down to twenty-seven from the original fifty.
I puked into a toilet stall specifically designated for that right after I left the showers.
"Feeling a little queasy there Castillo?" asked one of the actual marines.
I wiped macarroni from from my chin before smiling. "It seems like you forgot to wipe your mouth Ramsey."
Ramsey stopped smiling and wiped some vomit from his mouth with a towel.
"Also, you forgot to flush," I added as I did so.
He smiled at me. "I'll get you eventually you smartass," he said in a semi-playful tone.
Apparently I had gotten quite the reputation for being a sarcastic jerk in the camp. I'm not sure how this was possible, since I rarely started conversations. I mostly kept to myself.
I went to my bed and pulled out my knife. So far it hadn't managed to get confiscated. I twirled it around my fingers. With considerable skill, I might add. The familiar weight gave me some sort of reassurance, which was weird, since most people near a spinning sharp implement felt unsafe.
Maybe I'm a little off up there. Maybe not.
"Hey, Doug!" I yelled.
"What?" came tha answer.
"I'll bet my turn with Jonah's pad that I can hit whatever you want with my knife."
"Fuck that," he said. "Last time you made that bet, Ramsey had to give you all his datapad turns for a month."
I smiled at the memory.
"Suit yourself then."
I threw the knife underhanded at a piece of wood I had sneaked in to make a suitable target. It was a weird throw, you threw the knife underhanded and pulled your whist back at the last second. This way the knife flew forward whily spinning backwards. It was impractical for almost everything except showing off.
It hit the wooden target after two revolutions. I smiled as I pulled it out. There were groans of annoyance all around.
"Fucking show off," someone muttered.
I didn't care, they didn't mind either, we were all just cranky and tired. It had been four months exactly since we got here. Four months of doing nothing other than getting humiliated, beaten up, shocked, or forced to return our lunches by the sergeants. There must be some regulations against that. I was certain there were, but it didn't seem like the sergeant or even the captain would care about it.
Four months, and we still had twice that amount of time left in here before we were able to leave this hell.
Provided I was able to complete a full year under Gabuka that is.