eyes”. “Thomas, why haven’t you submitted your points to battalion in order to receive your promotion?” he asked with legs shoulder width apart and hands behind his back. I can’t believe it, now this guy’s even directing his attention towards me about this.
“I’m not focused on getting my stripes at this time, Sergeant.” I answered.
“And why is that, Private?”
“Because I believe I can be more beneficial to the platoon as a Specialist, Sergeant.” I answered. I know it was a lame excuse but it was an excuse nonetheless. Fact was, I didn’t want to lead.
He takes a step toward me and leans in with a vertical hand, fingers extended and joined directed towards my face.
I notice a gold ring with a “G” and protractor shaped symbol on it.
“You’re a Specialist Promotable, which says your only beneficial focus and concern is getting those three chevrons that you refer to as stripes and be the sergeant this unit needs you to become,” he says harshly, spitting with frustration. It’s quiet but I can feel the eyes of the others who once evacuated the area, observing the situation in the distance. “See, you privates…” He stops in mid-sentence, and in the silence I hear a vibration and see a dim blue light emitting from his pocket. He retracts his hand and stands up straight to dig for the phone in his right pocket.
“If you have to take that, Sergeant, don’t let me hold you up. I understand fully,” I said facetiously.
He shoots me a mug and balls up his lips refraining from any further conversation. “These privates,” he says. “Tch! Audacity, always audacity,” he says under his breath, walking away to engage in his phone conversation.
“Haaaaaaaa!!” A burst of laughter breaks out behind me.
I turn to see it is the group of four again, I smile at them and get going.
“Hey yo, Tommy Boy, we’re going out tonight, you coming?” Jacks asked me.
“It’s Tuesday,” I said.
“So, we just gonna do a few drinks at CiCi’s pizza and go play miniature golf or something. We hardly even see you outside the motor pool,” Shelton said.
I know I’ve become detached from everyone I ever called my comrade or friend, but getting tipsy and swinging a golf club just wasn’t my idea of a good time. Besides, I was focused on exposing the truth in our government and focused on the cause. “Nah, not this time. I got other plans, maybe next time,” I said. Meaning another night at the T.O.C was all that I had on my agenda for the rest of the evening.
“Alright, see it your way,” said Bernal. They head out and I follow out behind them to the parking lot. I open my car door and right before I get in I see that guy again. He’s just staring at me in all black and that same B.D.U field jacket.
<><><>
I spent the next four hours at the T.O.C preparing and finalizing a report I was about to send off to a connection in Ft. Drum, about voting and the inexistent Electoral College’s scandal. Shane stopped by and checked on me and Bazz was in his own world doing his own research on the opposite side of the room and left an hour or two before I did.
Afterwards, I went back to the barracks myself. I walked up the staircase to the second floor and turned right exiting the stairway. I heard loud techno music from loud speakers and my door was open.
BOOM BOOM BOOM! I heard while the cement ground trembled under my feet. The words to the song were inaudible, but the bass almost seemed to shake the brick barracks. I quickly walk towards the noise to see what was going on, constantly saying to myself, “Noorak, I’m going to kill you.” I make it to the familiar brown door with the sign 246 on it. It was wide open and I saw a drunk, but to my surprise it wasn’t Noorak.
“What’s up, man?” The skinny tall Hispanic guy said. The gelled hairstyle and skinny cheekbones with a Cheech and Chong smile was only my roommate Guitierez, making his once-in-a-blue-moon
“I’m not focused on getting my stripes at this time, Sergeant.” I answered.
“And why is that, Private?”
“Because I believe I can be more beneficial to the platoon as a Specialist, Sergeant.” I answered. I know it was a lame excuse but it was an excuse nonetheless. Fact was, I didn’t want to lead.
He takes a step toward me and leans in with a vertical hand, fingers extended and joined directed towards my face.
I notice a gold ring with a “G” and protractor shaped symbol on it.
“You’re a Specialist Promotable, which says your only beneficial focus and concern is getting those three chevrons that you refer to as stripes and be the sergeant this unit needs you to become,” he says harshly, spitting with frustration. It’s quiet but I can feel the eyes of the others who once evacuated the area, observing the situation in the distance. “See, you privates…” He stops in mid-sentence, and in the silence I hear a vibration and see a dim blue light emitting from his pocket. He retracts his hand and stands up straight to dig for the phone in his right pocket.
“If you have to take that, Sergeant, don’t let me hold you up. I understand fully,” I said facetiously.
He shoots me a mug and balls up his lips refraining from any further conversation. “These privates,” he says. “Tch! Audacity, always audacity,” he says under his breath, walking away to engage in his phone conversation.
“Haaaaaaaa!!” A burst of laughter breaks out behind me.
I turn to see it is the group of four again, I smile at them and get going.
“Hey yo, Tommy Boy, we’re going out tonight, you coming?” Jacks asked me.
“It’s Tuesday,” I said.
“So, we just gonna do a few drinks at CiCi’s pizza and go play miniature golf or something. We hardly even see you outside the motor pool,” Shelton said.
I know I’ve become detached from everyone I ever called my comrade or friend, but getting tipsy and swinging a golf club just wasn’t my idea of a good time. Besides, I was focused on exposing the truth in our government and focused on the cause. “Nah, not this time. I got other plans, maybe next time,” I said. Meaning another night at the T.O.C was all that I had on my agenda for the rest of the evening.
“Alright, see it your way,” said Bernal. They head out and I follow out behind them to the parking lot. I open my car door and right before I get in I see that guy again. He’s just staring at me in all black and that same B.D.U field jacket.
<><><>
I spent the next four hours at the T.O.C preparing and finalizing a report I was about to send off to a connection in Ft. Drum, about voting and the inexistent Electoral College’s scandal. Shane stopped by and checked on me and Bazz was in his own world doing his own research on the opposite side of the room and left an hour or two before I did.
Afterwards, I went back to the barracks myself. I walked up the staircase to the second floor and turned right exiting the stairway. I heard loud techno music from loud speakers and my door was open.
BOOM BOOM BOOM! I heard while the cement ground trembled under my feet. The words to the song were inaudible, but the bass almost seemed to shake the brick barracks. I quickly walk towards the noise to see what was going on, constantly saying to myself, “Noorak, I’m going to kill you.” I make it to the familiar brown door with the sign 246 on it. It was wide open and I saw a drunk, but to my surprise it wasn’t Noorak.
“What’s up, man?” The skinny tall Hispanic guy said. The gelled hairstyle and skinny cheekbones with a Cheech and Chong smile was only my roommate Guitierez, making his once-in-a-blue-moon
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