with Columbus ’ s help.”
“I understand and wish you success. But before you leave, I will know Lieutenant Columbus ’ s secret. Agreed?”
“Agreed, but I don ’ t want to be named Herman. Herman is lame.”
“Too bad, so sad.”
* * * * *
Sergeant Williams welcomed the new recruit to B-Company, issuing him an assault rifle, uniform, and equipment. Lieutenant Columbus reviewed Private Herman Cortez ’ s orders, then assigned him to dam duty.
“Report to Corporal Tonelli at the dam shack,” ordered Lieutenant Columbus. “He will square you away so the desert doesn ’ t kill you.”
Private Cortez just stood there, staring at Columbus. Sergeant Williams shook him by the shoulder. “What ’ s the matter with you?” shouted Sergeant Williams. “Are you high on that newt toxin? Boy, you had better not be!”
“Are you the real Christopher Columbus?” asked Private Cortez, finally speaking. “Please , sir, I need your help.”
“You are high!” accused Sergeant Williams, grabbing Cortez by the collar.
Cortez regained his composure, shoving Williams away. “Don ’ t ever touch me again,” he warned, then turned back to address Lieutenant Columbus. “I know your secret. Send me back in time. Vampires are coming. No one is safe. Please don ’ t let them get me!”
“You ’ r e going to be in big trouble if you don ’ t stop talking crazy and disrespectful, soldier,” warned Sergeant Williams.
“You need to listen, you dumb redneck hillbilly. This is serious!”
“The sun don ’ t shine on a dog ’ s ass all the time.”
“What?”
Sergeant Williams slapped Private Cortez alongside the head with his rifle butt, knocking him unconscious. Williams dragged Cortez to the dam.
* * * * *
“When this junkie fool sobers up, square him away,” ordered Sergeant Williams. “If he ’ s not salvageable, throw him off the damn dam.”
“Newt poisoning?” asked Corporal Tonelli, examining Cortez. “That ’ s nasty stuff. Ranger Bogani is really upset about all the newt poaching. The scorpions are going crazy over the stuff.”
“Recruitment standards always get lax during peacetime,” lamented Sergeant Williams. “What we need is another war.”
“War is bad for business,” admonished Corporal Tonelli. “Don ’ t be jinxing me like that. Not during the playoffs.”
“Put me down for five thousand on Tennessee over Alabama, and another five for the Seahawks over the Steelers.”
* * * * *
When Cortez woke, he could not believe it. The sarge was right about that damn dog. If it wasn ’ t for bad luck, he wouldn ’ t have any luck at all. Cortez stared up at his old friend Guido. Guido had not recognized him yet, being he was still alive. Cortez noticed Guido ’ s sub-machine gun slung casually over his shoulder. That might be a problem. Cortez spied his own rifle leaning at the opposite corner of the guard shack.
“Coffee?” asked Corporal Tonelli, conversationally. “I ’ ll bet you have one hell of a headache.”
Cortez accepted the coffee with a smile, still not speaking. He sipped slowly.
“Sergeant Williams isn ’ t happy with you. Did you lick the newt?”
Cortez shook his head ‘ no, ’ taking another deliberate sip. He started to get up, slowly making his move for the rifle. Guido blocked his path.
“You better explain yourself,” advised Corporal Tonelli. “If you ’ re a junkie, you ’ ll be swimming with the fishes.”
“I ’ m no junkie, Guido.”
Instantly recognizing Tony The Toe ’ s voice, Corporal Tonelli pointed his machine gun. “You have got to be kidding, Tony. You thought you ’ d be safe in the Legion? I ’ ve sworn an oath to kill you on sight, for treason.”
“Wait! We ’ re all in danger. You too. There are vampires chasing me. They ’ re coming here.”
“You did lick the newt,” accused Corporal Tonelli. “Where ’ s your money. Did you lose it all?”
“The ATM took most of my cash in
“I understand and wish you success. But before you leave, I will know Lieutenant Columbus ’ s secret. Agreed?”
“Agreed, but I don ’ t want to be named Herman. Herman is lame.”
“Too bad, so sad.”
* * * * *
Sergeant Williams welcomed the new recruit to B-Company, issuing him an assault rifle, uniform, and equipment. Lieutenant Columbus reviewed Private Herman Cortez ’ s orders, then assigned him to dam duty.
“Report to Corporal Tonelli at the dam shack,” ordered Lieutenant Columbus. “He will square you away so the desert doesn ’ t kill you.”
Private Cortez just stood there, staring at Columbus. Sergeant Williams shook him by the shoulder. “What ’ s the matter with you?” shouted Sergeant Williams. “Are you high on that newt toxin? Boy, you had better not be!”
“Are you the real Christopher Columbus?” asked Private Cortez, finally speaking. “Please , sir, I need your help.”
“You are high!” accused Sergeant Williams, grabbing Cortez by the collar.
Cortez regained his composure, shoving Williams away. “Don ’ t ever touch me again,” he warned, then turned back to address Lieutenant Columbus. “I know your secret. Send me back in time. Vampires are coming. No one is safe. Please don ’ t let them get me!”
“You ’ r e going to be in big trouble if you don ’ t stop talking crazy and disrespectful, soldier,” warned Sergeant Williams.
“You need to listen, you dumb redneck hillbilly. This is serious!”
“The sun don ’ t shine on a dog ’ s ass all the time.”
“What?”
Sergeant Williams slapped Private Cortez alongside the head with his rifle butt, knocking him unconscious. Williams dragged Cortez to the dam.
* * * * *
“When this junkie fool sobers up, square him away,” ordered Sergeant Williams. “If he ’ s not salvageable, throw him off the damn dam.”
“Newt poisoning?” asked Corporal Tonelli, examining Cortez. “That ’ s nasty stuff. Ranger Bogani is really upset about all the newt poaching. The scorpions are going crazy over the stuff.”
“Recruitment standards always get lax during peacetime,” lamented Sergeant Williams. “What we need is another war.”
“War is bad for business,” admonished Corporal Tonelli. “Don ’ t be jinxing me like that. Not during the playoffs.”
“Put me down for five thousand on Tennessee over Alabama, and another five for the Seahawks over the Steelers.”
* * * * *
When Cortez woke, he could not believe it. The sarge was right about that damn dog. If it wasn ’ t for bad luck, he wouldn ’ t have any luck at all. Cortez stared up at his old friend Guido. Guido had not recognized him yet, being he was still alive. Cortez noticed Guido ’ s sub-machine gun slung casually over his shoulder. That might be a problem. Cortez spied his own rifle leaning at the opposite corner of the guard shack.
“Coffee?” asked Corporal Tonelli, conversationally. “I ’ ll bet you have one hell of a headache.”
Cortez accepted the coffee with a smile, still not speaking. He sipped slowly.
“Sergeant Williams isn ’ t happy with you. Did you lick the newt?”
Cortez shook his head ‘ no, ’ taking another deliberate sip. He started to get up, slowly making his move for the rifle. Guido blocked his path.
“You better explain yourself,” advised Corporal Tonelli. “If you ’ re a junkie, you ’ ll be swimming with the fishes.”
“I ’ m no junkie, Guido.”
Instantly recognizing Tony The Toe ’ s voice, Corporal Tonelli pointed his machine gun. “You have got to be kidding, Tony. You thought you ’ d be safe in the Legion? I ’ ve sworn an oath to kill you on sight, for treason.”
“Wait! We ’ re all in danger. You too. There are vampires chasing me. They ’ re coming here.”
“You did lick the newt,” accused Corporal Tonelli. “Where ’ s your money. Did you lose it all?”
“The ATM took most of my cash in
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