It's Not Basic Anymore

Paperwork… Paperwork… More paperwork… Health check up… And signing paperwork…

My recruiter has been doing everything he can to get everything moving as fast as possible. They had me do their initial physical fitness test to ensure that I could handle basic training. I passed that with flying colors to the point that I am ready for their final exam near graduation. He's doing everything he can to ensure that I'm getting bonuses for everything. I know he gets paid depending on how well the specimen he presents is. He wants to make sure that I stay.

I take care of these extra things after my days on campus. I still attend classes. I had to keep up the charade that I am a dutiful student. I have to do what I need to and keep my head down. The threat is always there and the stress is turning into paranoia. At least I can recognize it. I have to plan this just right.

It's a few weeks before my recruiter gets back to me with a solid date. "You leave at the end of May. We've got your flight booked and your spot reserved!" He seemed much more enthusiastic about it than I am. Rightfully so. I'm doing this to run away. Not for some greater purpose or reason. With a solid date in mind, now I can start getting other things planned.

I get shipping labels created and stuck on boxes that will be shipped back home with a letter to my parents to keep it in storage along with a gift for $25,000 for the nursery, medical care, and whatever else they may need. My suit will be shipped back to Madam Odette. This will be her unwritten letter that I am gone. Maybe she'll get the message that she shouldn't come after me. That hurts to think about.

My days continue as usual. I attend my classes, do my due diligence as a student, and spend my nights making sure that everything I need to have ready is ready to go. The plan is that the night before I am to leave I will submit my information to be pulled from my classes and the university. The RA knows I have two packages going out on the same day. He'll ensure that it's picked up with the mail.

It's another sleepless night. I'm not sure I got any sleep. I roll out of bed grabbing the large box I packed with a smaller one on top of it. The larger box goes to my parents while the smaller one goes to Madam Odette. I drop them off at the RA's door. With one last look, I shut off my phone as I stepped out of the building.

It's a short walk to the recruitment office. There are about a dozen of us that are being sent in from this office. They have a few vans ready to shuttle us where we need to go. It's one last medical examination here, then we are dropped off at the airport. One of the other recruits is given a bag with all our paperwork in it. We all sign off that our name is spelled correctly before it's sealed once again.

We sit in a waiting room for what feels like hours as we're called in one by one for that last examination. I'm signed off and cleared. We leave at about 2 pm where we're all crammed into a shuttle bus taking us to the airport. From here, we are on our own. We have our gate that we are supposed to be at the time our plane leaves. We'll head straight to Georgia where we'll be bussed to Fort Benning.

I catch what sleep I can on the plane but feel it when we land. The recruit with the papers finds the USO Lounge where we can sit down until we're picked up. We were told, "once the yelling starts, so has basic training". I remember these words as a loud badger walks through the door and yells for anyone going to Fort Benning. The dozen of us get up along with quite a few others. I was unlucky enough that he shouted out a loud "Move!" into my ear. I could feel my eye twitch.

The buses were outside with a tote in front of them. Our guy dumps the papers into it and boards. The rest of us follow him, finding the first seat we can. They pile the rest of us in. I can see there are a wide variety of species, primarily considered predators, but there's a healthy mix. The badger jumps on the bus and starts shouting out "Put your head on your knees and keep it there until I say so!" There's a quick second of quiet before he shouts again, "I tell you an order! You say 'Yes, Sir' and you say it fast!"

The bus echoed out with one "Yes, Sir" in unison. The person next to me is shaking. I can feel his leg against mine as his breathing is shaky. I can only imagine what I look like. The first day Madam Odette picked me up was like this. Just less intense. She used a soft but stern voice that rattled me to the core. This guy is just loud and using intimidation. Admittedly, it's working. I don't wish to set him off. My recruiter constantly reminded us that the instructors here would be vicious but they have their own rules they have to abide by.

We all shift as the bus takes off. I can feel every turn we make and every bump we hit. Everyone stays quiet as we all shift and move inside. The top of my head hits the seat in front of me as we come to a stop. We know we're there when the air brakes give and he starts up again, "Get off my bus! I gave you an order! You say 'Yes, Sir!' right now!"

Everyone started clambering to stand up while yelling back "Yes, Sir". Being close to the front of the bus, I was one of the first ones off. There were more instructors with their field hats pointing and yelling at us telling us where to go, where to stand, how to stand, and reminding us to yell back "Yes, Sir" when given an order.

The day turned into a blur very quickly. I just kept shouting "Yes, Sir" at the top of my lungs as I followed a line. I walked into a room with tables that had small separators. The line wrapped around the outside to an area where there was a toucan in uniform asking for people's sizes and handing them four sets of uniforms. My turn came up and I gave him that I was large. He threw two desert and two woodland camo sets on the table with a plastic back of socks, underwear, and green t-shirts. He asked my shoe size, I handed that over, and he dropped a new pair of shoes still in the box.

I was pushed along to one of the tables where there was a box and a marker. I had to strip down, put everything I had on me into this box and sign it, then change into my uniform minus the blouse. I taped up the box, signing my name and dating it. Someone walked by taking it away to be stored somewhere informing me that I will get it back at the end of training.

From here, we are moved along to another room where we are drug tested again. The thing that stuck with me here was a guy throwing up behind me. He wasn't able to pee in the cup so they were forcing him to drink water until his stomach was full. But they kept making him drink to where his body rejected it. He was already waterlogged. It wasn't going to help but I know I can't speak up about it. Poor guy.

Another hallway, more yelling, and I'm moved into an area where they have barber chairs waiting. They shave off a lot of fur and fluff from the top of your head and tell you to move on. My turn comes up and they cut close to the skin. I can feel them pull as they go over everything. I got a pat on the back and yelled to get out of the chair. As I head outside into the darkness it becomes clear that we will not be sleeping tonight. My watch was taken and I haven't seen a clock since we arrived. I know this is done to keep us disoriented about what time it is. I look up at the sky and have no idea what time it is. I didn't pick up reading the stars when I was at Madam Odette's.

They start counting us out into groups of 80. The first group of us is counted and moved out onto a road where we walk to a concrete building. We are informed that we will be staying here for a week during receiving. As for tonight, we have paperwork to do!

A lot of it is just finding the line to sign. No time to read anything we're given. We were told "You should have been informed of this already! If you weren't! That's too damn bad! Sign it!" A lot of these guys are panicking trying to find that line, skipping some, and going back. I'm trying to do what's best for me and reading most of this. A lot of it is related to what they picked my MOS to be. What I would have for a job and any bonuses they would include.

The next set is contact information. Emergency contact information in case something happens. Insurance information for Tricare. Insurance for if we die in active combat there is a $500,000 policy that gets paid out to who we designate it to. The reality of the situation is beginning to set in. I made this decision lightly. I made this decision to run away from a problem. I will stand by this decision! I will do what I have to for the protection of those I care about!

The sun begins to rise as we continue to work on these stacks of papers. We wait on a few of the slower folks to finish up before we are ordered to stand and move outside. We lined up on the street again and walked down to the mess hall. As we go, we can hear a song begin to play over the loudspeaker. The lights inside the other concrete buildings come on as the street is flooded with the sounds of yelling. It's 5 am and it is time to get up.

The mess hall is warm from the heat of the kitchens in the back. A moose lady is taking a tally of us as we come in and we are shoved through into a line where we are given a tray and a serving of everything down the line. "Heads down and eat! I gave you an order!" The "Yes, Sir" echoes through the hall. Anyone caught looking up at anyone else at their table or to another table is immediately spotted. We know when someone gets busted because an instructor is there to yell and remind them of where their eyes need to be.

"Eat faster!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Get your shit and get out of my mess hall!"

"Yes, Sir!"

We can't leave until someone puts their cup upside down. Once one cup is flipped, the whole table is done. If you have food, that's rough because you are up and it is thrown away. The three other guys at the table with me quickly figured this out. We started trading small glances to check on each other's trays to gauge. Once the last guy finished we all flipped our cups upside down and were instructed to leave.

We lined back up outside in the same positions we were in before we were marched off again to another area. More paperwork… More signing… One guy lost his signing bonus because he didn't listen to instructions. If you had a bonus you went into the left line. If you don't, you go to the right line. They started signing the papers on the right line to make it quicker. He got to the front and pointed out that he had a bonus. It felt like an explosion when the instructor at the table yelled at him.

"You fucking what?! Well, you just fucking lost it! Do you see this stamp?! That means you don't have one! Get the fuck out of my line!" The recruit walked off as quickly as he could. I watched as the instructor threw his pile of papers off to the side. I don't believe that he lost his bonus. They'll just have to fix it later. Or so I hope. I know my signing bonus was sizable. While I'm not hurting for money, I also wouldn't want to lose it.

The day blurs by. We were shuffled into a room where we were addressed about some administrative tasks. We were moved out of that room for lunch and then back around to get more supplies. We were given a large, green canvas bag. We went down a line with the bag open and what we needed was thrown into it from the other side of the counter. Soap, razors, extra clothes, and a set of padlocks. I didn't pay too much attention to what they were throwing in there. I was too focused on the yelling behind me for the line to move faster.

We were brought back to the concrete building they had us staying in and instructed to empty the bag into a foot locker. We had to find the blankets, sheets, pillow covers, and the pillow that was thrown in. They were all big items so they were easy to find for me. A few people dumped their entire bag out in a panic and their equipment got mixed in with others. We found those items and had to pack everything else back into the bag. This is where it started to get confusing for a few people.

Because their stuff got mixed, they started yelling at one another about which was theirs or someone else's. They were quickly broken up when the instructor intervened, "I! Do! Not! Care! Pack your shit up! Now! I said now! That's an order! You respond with 'Yes, Sir' or so help me I will come unglued!"

The two yelled back with "Yes, Sir" and they grabbed whatever and packed it all away. "Figure out whose stuff is who's later! This is my time! Yes, sir."

"Yes, Sir!"

I'm doing what I can to keep my head down. Any attention I can avoid, the better. I'm already having issues concealing my second tail. The constant stress and the lack of sleep are beginning to take their toll on me. But that's the idea! I was told by my recruiter that this is what they will do for the first two days. It's to reset everyone's time clock to the timezone. We were run through dinner and promised if we finished fast enough our instructor would begin teaching us how to march.

It struck me as odd that the reward offered was enough to get a rise out of everyone. It was something other than getting yelled at. In this circumstance, it would seem like a reward. Dinner was eaten, we lined up outside, and we started. We marched around the streets for a while with our instructor yelling out left and right until we got in time. I would have thought that this would be an easy task but the military brings in a lot of people from all walks of life. Some struggled with keeping time, which foot they should be stepping with, and all kinds of problems.

We would stop, correct the issue, continue, and stop again until our instructor ran out of time. Or patience. I couldn't tell which it was. We were brought back to the building we had been sitting in where we were given a brief moment to shower and shave. I cleaned up what I could but fur is fur. We were ushered back out into the large area where we were given more paperwork and finally allowed to sleep at 9 pm.

I let my illusion go once I was under the covers. I could feel the stress come off of my mind as I relaxed. The lights went out, and I could feel the muscles in my body give. This was a new kind of stress. I can handle the physically demanding portion of it but the constant yelling is what started to do me in. As I lay in the darkness looking to my right towards the main entryway, I stared at the red exit sign waiting for something to happen. Were we done for the day? I could hear a few people muttering around me. I think I heard a few whimpers as well. There's nothing I can do. They'll have to adapt. My recruiter warned me this was going to happen.

I don't think I dreamed. I think I was too tired. But the speakers started blasting at 5 am. The lights came on, and we were right back into yelling. "Lights! Lights! Lights! Lights! Get up! Get in line!" Illusion on, body up, and toes in line as I watch our instructor run down the middle yelling at everyone to wake up. I can see a few are having an issue getting up out of bed. That attitude quickly changes once the instructor is in their ear yelling at them to move.

I'm still feeling groggy. I can feel myself swaying a bit as my mind tries to shake off the sleep. Today is the day we do our first fitness test. We have to show that we can meet the minimum requirements to physically be here. First, breakfast, then we are marched back to the barracks to change. Socks, shoes, green shorts, and a green shirt. That's all we have. It's a good day for this though. Being so close to the middle of the year we won't be freezing to death out there. Once the sun comes up though, we may have an issue with it getting too warm.

We are marched to the field where we will do our test. We are instructed that we will run the mile-and-a-half course where we will record and report our times. After that, chin-ups on the bar, and lastly we end with crunches on the ground. Once we pass the line we will have our time shouted at us and we have to walk over to another instructor who will have a marker to write on us what our time was.

There is an instructor who will lead the pack and be the pace keeper. Another will push those in the back to make sure that they hit the minimum time. If they fall behind… I don't want to think about it. I started near the middle and kept near the middle. I didn't push hard and didn't want to be near the front.

So, to pass the chin-up portion, you only have to do two. To pass the final you need to do 20. I can already do that but do I want to knock that out here? I get to the bar and have no time to think. I do my two, move on to three, and before I know it I hear the observer count out my tenth. I don't drop but I hold on to the bar. I pull myself up again getting the 11th and then shout out that I've hit my limit. They tell me to drop and someone with a marker writes on me.

Next is crunches. They line us up across from someone who is going to sit on our feet. I get paired up with another fox about my size. He's a brown fox. We just nod at one another and say nothing. We are ordered to take our spot and I go second. I keep counting as he comes up and drops down. He only gets to 39 out of the 44 he needs. With about 20 seconds left I can tell he's struggling to get those last few. I do what I can to try and encourage him but he just doesn't have it.

Time is called and they go down the line getting the first count. They get to us and I can see the look of defeat in his eyes. I make my report of 45 to the instructor. He writes it down on the other fox yelling at him to do better. He looks back at me a little shocked but grateful for the assist. We swap positions and I begin my portion. We have two minutes to do 44 crunches. The final test requires you to hit 100 in that same time frame. I didn't even think about it as they blew the whistle to begin. Two minutes pass without me keeping track of where I was. He was counting but I couldn't hear him. The instructor walked by and he shouted out that I had done 124! He yelled that he better not be lying and wrote it down on me.

As we are all lined back up to leave the field, I spot that fox again in another group. This may be the last time we see each other as the group that he's in lives two floors below me. We move out to the barracks where we quickly walk through the shower before getting back into some fresh clothes. We're marched to lunch, and back out to finish even more papers.

It seems that everything we've done this week is just hurrying up and waiting. We get to where we need to go. Our instructor keeps telling us we're behind but we show up and they just have us sit around. The entire second half of the day is spent in the medical area where we are looked over again and given what is lovingly referred to as a peanut butter shot. A general immune booster. It hurts like hell and leaves me with a slight limp.

Anyone who has glasses is shuffled away to have their new glasses ordered. Because I don't wear glasses, I'm shoved into a group that is taken away to have our teeth looked at. I sat in a chair for almost two hours to get taken back, asked three questions, poked in the gum a few times, and recommended just general cleaning.

We walked to dinner, ate quickly, and got right back into the swing of things. More papers, another restless night of sleep, and we were up at 5 am to do it again. It became routine and it was a mess for a lot of folks. A few already seemed to disappear with no explanation as to why.

It was Friday when everything changed. We packed up all our stuff again, bedding included and were marched off to a different building. It looked a lot more square than the one we were staying in. A lot newer too. We were shouted up the stairs and re-ordered into our lines before they started pointing us to a rack. Our new sleeping arrangements.

We stood there until the door busted open and all the yelling that we had endured for the last week seemed to be nothing compared to this. Four instructors were running up and down the center getting into everyone's faces, screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs. This was the handoff. We were no longer in receiving and these five gentlemen were going to be in charge of us. The fifth man stepped onto the center floor and yelled for the other four to line up. They shouted out their drill instructor's promise before they were unleashed again.

Staff Sergeant Degadillo; an armadillo with lungs that could blow you away if you crossed him. Staff Sergeant Plots; had a crazy look in his eyes for being a flamingo. He towered over everyone with his height. Sergeant First Class Ramirez; was built like a truck and would probably hit you like one. His bullish nature was only matched by his bullish appearance. Sergeant First Class Poll; The oddest of the bunch. He ran back and forth like a chihuahua that was dunked in coffee even being a much larger german shepherd breed.

And lastly, the shortest of them all but clearly the man in charge, Sergeant First Class Zamora. A mean-looking badger who kept his voice a lot softer than the others. It was clear though that he didn't need to pipe up about anything. He was in charge. His word was law in this place and that was it.

They had us empty our bags again into a footlocker. We had no time to organize it. We just had to get it to fit. There were a few others who were having issues with getting theirs to close. I'll admit. I had to sit on mine to get the latch to go over but I was able to get it. Then I had to bend the lock on it to fit the padlock they had given us. But once it was on, it was on. I would have to come back to this later.

I'm going to break this down as simply as I can. I lasted two weeks with my training platoon. I started to pick up the language, the idioms, and the daily routine. Up at 5 am! Chow hall! Morning classes where I would have issues staying awake! Chow hall! Afternoon PT! Drills! Combat! Chow hall! Drill! And rack at 9 pm. The day was a bit more broken up than that with an occasional chore we had to do. Sunday was field day. We cleaned. All day. That first Monday came and we learned how to wear our blouses correctly. We got our boots. We got some more equipment. We learned how to go to bed properly.

But, again, I made it two weeks. What changed was not fully within my control and I'm not pleased with how it changed everything.

We were issued our weapons. Brand new from the factory. Never been touched by any paw other than someone inside the factory. We all received one. A classic stable that anyone with any type of firearm knowledge would identify as an M16A4. We were informed of this, taught about it, forced to learn even more about it, and finally handed one. We lined up, it was placed on the table in front of us, and we were carefully instructed how to pick it up before we were moved to a table where it would be laid down.

They went over a quick lesson on how to take it apart and put it back together. And that moment will stick with me. The recruit next to me had his weapon upon the buttstock, as I did, but he let go and it started to fall over toward me. I caught it out of the corner of my eye and grabbed the front grip on the barrel to stop it. He took it back, getting it upright, but what happened next changed my course.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?!" I hear a common phrase ring out from across the tables. I keep my eyes on my work until the voice is so loud I can feel it in my brain. It may have well been because his lips were touching the hairs in my ear. "I asked what the fuck do you think you are doing! Recruit!" I can feel my eye twitch on the side he is shouting into. "This recruit is cleaning his weapon, sir!"

"And why did you touch that recruit's weapon?!"

"It was falling, sir!"

"That sounds like a him problem! Not a you problem! Don't you know how to handle a loose weapon?!"

Of course I don't! I've never touched a firearm in my life up until this point, right now. I recognize the voice though. That is Staff Sergeant Plotz. He's got what one would describe as a "hate boner" for all of us. I figured it was only a matter of time before he to me. He didn't give me time for an answer before he started barking orders at me. "Put your weapon down! Put! Your! Weapon! DOWN!" He repeated himself three more times in the small time it took me to put it down in a position that they would deem safe.

He continued though, "Get out of my armory! Other side of the fence! Go! Move! Faster!" I couldn't yell "Yes, Sir!" fast enough with all the orders he was shouting at me. I moved as fast as I could to get to the other side of the fence where he continued his tirade. "Run! That way! Go!" He was directing me to return to our barracks. We had a small dirt spot behind the building where all the drill instructors would take recruits to smoke them for two minutes. If you screwed up, or what they considered a screwup, you would have to beat your feet there and endure the pain before returning to wherever you were before. Sometimes that meant running for miles. One guy had to stop running in the middle of our run to run there, and back to where he was on the field, to finish the remaining distance of the first run.

I guess it was my turn. I knew exactly where to go and I started running as fast as I could carry me. He kept up with absolutely no issue yelling the entire time. I'm surprised he has the lung strength to do that. I was puffing as I was trying to yell back at him acknowledging that I heard and was following his orders. But we hit that dirt path and he shouted for me to start pushing. I hit the dirt with a cloud and started pushing as though my life depended on it. I knew that there was no way I would be fast enough to meet his demands but he had me for two minutes to do whatever he felt like.

"Push! Push! Push!" And I would push.

"Jumping jacks!" I stood up and started. I got three in before he told me to start pushing again. I hit the ground with a hard thud. I felt my back pop. I started pushing with him on all fours next to me, screaming into my face, "You better push until the Earth moves! Push! Push! Puuuuuuush!" I tried to keep count with his yelling. I tried to ignore the odd feeling on my back. I tried to keep my focus on everything at once but it became too much and I could feel something give.

I pushed down but my body didn't incline. I stayed level with the ground. The yelling stopped. I opened my eyes to see that his wish came through. The Earth had moved under me. I pushed, and without realizing that I was focused on my spine, put a crater into the area below me. I don't know which of the two of us was more in a panic. His eyes locked on me while I stared at him looking for his direction.

In the quietest voice I've heard from him since I met him, he told me to get up. I stood up straight at attention as he told me to follow him. I looked back at the crater wondering what to do. With a quick breath I flattened it back as best I could to the state it was when we showed up. He watched before grabbing me by the collar. "Let's go."

I stayed behind him as close as I could. He was moving at a fast walking pace. The path that we took, I had taken it before, but only once. It was to the offices where our CO and upper chain of command are. He blasted in through the front door with me in tow. He passed the desk and headed down a hall. I recognized the name from a paper we had received. This was the office of our battalion commander. He slammed on the door but was denied. He slammed again with greater urgency, this time getting an OK. He told me to wait and so I did.

It took maybe five seconds before the door opened again and he told me to come in. Staff Sergeant Plotz stood in the corner while I stood at attention in front of the commander's desk. He was still young but the gray in his fur was starting to show from the stress of his military career. A well-groomed ferret who didn't seem to bother with the same minor issues that our instructors did. "Red Welch. Have a seat."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Stop yelling."

"Yes, sir."

I sat down in one of the chairs behind me. The office was small. I don't think my feet shifted on the carpet. I kept my back straight as if I were standing with my nose still slightly up. "Private Welch, explain something. How did you make the Earth move?" I don't know how to answer this. Magic isn't well known. How do I approach this? Do I ask him how deep he is into this? "I don't know, sir."

"Interesting…"

He looks over his papers. I can see they have my name on them. "You did well on your IST. You've been doing OK with everything else. Nothing stands out. Let me tell you something. In this world, and as odd as it may sound coming from me, there is a thing called magic." He finally looked up at me. For the first time, I can see his eyes. They have no real emotion. He's just talking to me like a normal person. I look over to Staff Sergeant Plotz in the corner who just points for me to look back. My CO continues, "Sometimes under a great deal of stress, those who have latent abilities begin to show them. I believe that's what happened here. That's why this was brought to my attention. Every instructor is trained to spot these signs and ordered to report them immediately."

I cut him off, "Wait, so they know?" I point to SSgt. Plotz.

"Yes."

That broke my military bearing. I bring my paws to my face and rub my eyes. There's a weight lifted. I thought this was going to turn into a mess but as it turns out, there's a plan for this. He continues to look through my papers as he addresses me, "You've put me in a very odd situation and put yourself into an even harder one. What do you have to say about that?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted."

"I feel so much better."

Both look puzzled at my statement. I lean back in the chair and relax the stress that's been keeping my mind wound tight. I can release this illusion on my second tail. SSgt Plotz looks like he's about to blow a gasket. My CO is keeping himself collected. I know that illusion magic is a high-level spell that requires a great deal of understanding and practice. To keep this illusion up every day for three weeks… They never noticed. Never suspected a thing.

He goes back to his papers looking over them once more. "Nothing here about any school of magic. No attendance records. No grades. How did you keep that hidden?"

"Private tutor."

"With who?"

"Would rather not say. Part of the reason I joined was to put that behind me."

It doesn't matter what reason I give them. I know they're going to investigate this. They did a wide-sweeping background check before I joined. If there was anything there, they would have found it. If it had popped that I was magically inclined that would have changed a lot. Or at least that's what I feel. This situation is tense. "With this coming to light, you're going to be removed from your training platoon. Staff Sergeant Plotz."

"Yes, sir!"

"Help him pack his stuff. Move him to the separation building. Ensure he gets a private room. He's not to be lumped in with RSP."

"Yes, Sir!"

I don't need to be told to follow at this point. We are both dismissed. Before I leave, I cover up my tail again. I hear the Commanding Officer hum before picking up the phone. Ssgt Plotz doesn't say anything until we get to the barracks. He orders me to grab my stuff from my footlocker and shove it into my bag. "Yes, sir!"

"Shut up. Stay quiet."

I just shove everything in. I take the padlock and clamp the whole thing shut, swinging it onto my back. "Follow me." We walk for what feels like miles before we reach a section of the base I have never seen before. It's a lot different. Most of where I've been is just basic concrete buildings. These are a lot nicer until we get to one that is tucked away. It looks like the barracks I've been staying in but only one floor. Inside, others are sitting around. They look… half-ready. We've been wearing our boots, camos, and a cover. These guys are wearing shoes, camo bottoms, and their standard green shirts. "RSP. Recruit Separation Platoon. They are going home for one reason or another. Don't let them suck you in. You are only leaving here. Not the Army."

His words ring in my ears. I'm leaving, but only here. He walks in to find the instructor on duty. They have a brief chat before I'm handed off to a Staff Sergeant. He takes me outside and around to the building next door. He addresses the woman working the front desk and has me sit. Only a few minutes later, I am guided around the building to what looks to be a private bedroom. All I get is an "Enjoy" before they have me sit inside. I sit and wait for what feels like hours. This room is isolated from everything. I can occasionally hear sounds coming from the rest of the base as other recruits move around and yell.

The door to my room opens as the Staff Sergeant I was handed off to comes in. "Come on, chow time."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Knock it off. Relax while you're here."

I try to relax as best I can. He guides me around the building back to the RSP barracks. They're all lined up outside waiting for me. I take a spot in the back and they start walking. I got so used to stepping in time that I matched the person in front of me. The rest of them don't seem to care. They all walk as they please. We arrive at the mess hall, get in the chow line, and are rushed out before the next group comes in. We walked back and I'm once again moved to the small room.

I sit, and wait, and wonder until I'm pulled from it again for dinner. Once again, I'm back in my little section of the world. Despite everything that's happened so far, this has been the hardest. At least I was doing something. Now I'm just stuck here. Alone.

The sun sets. I hear the music for the lowering of the flag, and I say screw it. I grab my pillow and sheet from my bag laying down on the bed. If I'm going to be stuck in here, I'm at least going to get some sleep. I didn't even kick my boots off.

It must have been only a few hours before a flash of light woke me up. The door opens and the light is flipped on. My CO stands there with an MP and the Staff Sergeant. "Get up Welch, your time here is over. Pack your trash." I shove the pillow and sheet into the bag, locking it back up. I swing it over and follow the two outside. They have a flashlight to navigate around but why not just turn the lights on? I get outside to see the headlights of a van sitting by the curb. My CO pats the MP on the back. They open the sliding door with a sharp order to get in.

I'm confused but my CO offers one little bit of advice, "Good luck with your new opportunity." The door shut, and the ride began. The person driving is in full uniform. I ask him where we are going. The answer I get is, "You'll find out when you get there. I'm not allowed to say any more to you." No matter what I ask, I'm only met with silence. There's nothing more for the ride. Just darkness and the light of the van on the road ahead of us.