than I had, he had only
been a lance corporal for half the time, and hadn’t yet completed the Recce Commander’s
Course. I had no doubt that he was good enough to return to Uralis and pass it,
since he was already at the standard required. I often wondered if he resented
me for being placed in charge of the section. I had been fortunate enough to be
placed straight onto Recce Commanders after achieving top student on the Basic
Recce Course only weeks prior, which effectively qualified me as a full
corporal within the elite arm of the dropship infantry. It meant that I was
more qualified than Puppy, even though we shared the same rank. He never showed
any sign of bitterness toward me, though. It was obvious that the section
didn’t need me even half as much as it needed him. If I was the head of the
section, then he was its beating heart, keeping the men happy, motivated and
even laughing when others might break down and cry.
The light sticks that
I used to illuminate my chamber had died out long ago, so I cracked a couple
more as I entered, bathing the tiny underground room in dim yellow light as I
stripped off my kit in solitude.
I was glad that I
lived alone in my own chamber, away from the section. I struggled to get on
with people on a personal level, and found joining in with their banter and
mindless conversations hard. I didn’t mind it for a while, but I always yearned
for time to myself, to think of the future, to reflect on my past, and to
grieve for my friends.
I placed my kit down
at my feet and gently sat on the end of my cot bed, the old metal frame
protesting under my weight. I looked at the walls of my tiny chamber, studying
the shapes of the shadows cast across them by the light sticks. They were
blank, without a single picture or memento. What would I possibly want to
remember? My past was soaked with blood and clouded by misery, and the less I
thought of it, the better.
Minutes passed before
I finally shook my head, wrenching myself out of my funk. Snap out of it,
Andy , I told myself as I stood, there are still things to do and they
aren’t going to get done as long so you sit on your bed sulking. You chose this
life, so deal with it.
Leaving my chamber to
find the section, I ran through a mental checklist in my head, working out what
tasks still needed to be done. As the section second in command, Puppy would already
be busy administering the men, but it was a task delegated down to him from me.
Ultimately I was responsible for the section, and it was me who needed to check
that everything was done properly before I allowed my men to rest.
We needed to recharge
the batteries on our rifles. They hadn’t been active for much of the time we
had spent in the OP, but even a single per cent of battery life kept our
weapons operating for an hour longer on the ground, and it might be that hour
that saved our lives. We needed fresh rations and ammunition, respirator filters
needed to be cleaned or replaced if required, and our gel armour needed to be
inspected for any sign of excessive wear and tear. Although capable of stopping
shrapnel and even darts fired at a great range by hardening on impact, the
armour could easily be damaged after a prolonged period of use, so it needed to
be checked regularly. Only once all this had been carried out, and I was
satisfied that my section could deploy again if required, would I return to my
chamber to eat. After that I would try to sleep.
The section room was already
a hive of activity, with Puppy at its centre. Fresh magazines were laid out
onto the floor, and the old ones were being sorted into piles depending on
whether they were full or not. Regardless of the amount of ammunition left in
each magazine, they would still be taken away to be checked over and
reconditioned. The MSG-20 rifle that most of us carried was a complex weapon,
and even the slightest fault in a magazine could affect its ability to function
properly.
Puppy tapped away at
his datapad,
been a lance corporal for half the time, and hadn’t yet completed the Recce Commander’s
Course. I had no doubt that he was good enough to return to Uralis and pass it,
since he was already at the standard required. I often wondered if he resented
me for being placed in charge of the section. I had been fortunate enough to be
placed straight onto Recce Commanders after achieving top student on the Basic
Recce Course only weeks prior, which effectively qualified me as a full
corporal within the elite arm of the dropship infantry. It meant that I was
more qualified than Puppy, even though we shared the same rank. He never showed
any sign of bitterness toward me, though. It was obvious that the section
didn’t need me even half as much as it needed him. If I was the head of the
section, then he was its beating heart, keeping the men happy, motivated and
even laughing when others might break down and cry.
The light sticks that
I used to illuminate my chamber had died out long ago, so I cracked a couple
more as I entered, bathing the tiny underground room in dim yellow light as I
stripped off my kit in solitude.
I was glad that I
lived alone in my own chamber, away from the section. I struggled to get on
with people on a personal level, and found joining in with their banter and
mindless conversations hard. I didn’t mind it for a while, but I always yearned
for time to myself, to think of the future, to reflect on my past, and to
grieve for my friends.
I placed my kit down
at my feet and gently sat on the end of my cot bed, the old metal frame
protesting under my weight. I looked at the walls of my tiny chamber, studying
the shapes of the shadows cast across them by the light sticks. They were
blank, without a single picture or memento. What would I possibly want to
remember? My past was soaked with blood and clouded by misery, and the less I
thought of it, the better.
Minutes passed before
I finally shook my head, wrenching myself out of my funk. Snap out of it,
Andy , I told myself as I stood, there are still things to do and they
aren’t going to get done as long so you sit on your bed sulking. You chose this
life, so deal with it.
Leaving my chamber to
find the section, I ran through a mental checklist in my head, working out what
tasks still needed to be done. As the section second in command, Puppy would already
be busy administering the men, but it was a task delegated down to him from me.
Ultimately I was responsible for the section, and it was me who needed to check
that everything was done properly before I allowed my men to rest.
We needed to recharge
the batteries on our rifles. They hadn’t been active for much of the time we
had spent in the OP, but even a single per cent of battery life kept our
weapons operating for an hour longer on the ground, and it might be that hour
that saved our lives. We needed fresh rations and ammunition, respirator filters
needed to be cleaned or replaced if required, and our gel armour needed to be
inspected for any sign of excessive wear and tear. Although capable of stopping
shrapnel and even darts fired at a great range by hardening on impact, the
armour could easily be damaged after a prolonged period of use, so it needed to
be checked regularly. Only once all this had been carried out, and I was
satisfied that my section could deploy again if required, would I return to my
chamber to eat. After that I would try to sleep.
The section room was already
a hive of activity, with Puppy at its centre. Fresh magazines were laid out
onto the floor, and the old ones were being sorted into piles depending on
whether they were full or not. Regardless of the amount of ammunition left in
each magazine, they would still be taken away to be checked over and
reconditioned. The MSG-20 rifle that most of us carried was a complex weapon,
and even the slightest fault in a magazine could affect its ability to function
properly.
Puppy tapped away at
his datapad,
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