Chapter 71 Welcome to the army

He sat in a very uncomfortable seat, the cargo plane was filled to capacity with seats occupied by others his age. He saw every color of skin there is on earth. 

The clothes ranged from rags to expensive finery.

They chattered, some complained, some boasted, and there were those who were already announcing death to others.

Despite the outbursts, their egos were bigger than the others. 4 hours of what felt like an eternity with flight service, where a member of staff walked through the rows directing people. There were stops to make the plane even fuller. He had seen machines like this in Hawaii, mostly transporting exo-suits, so a lot of people fitted in. 

After the announcement, they were supposedly there, which made everyone nervous.

As soon as the ramp was down, heat broke in, coupled with the glaring sun. Then soldiers appeared, who started shouting as soon as they entered. Luke was impressed.

"Out, out, out! In neat rows!" they shouted loudly, and anyone who was too slow was caned.

Then they ran out of the machine and found themselves in a sun-scorched landscape, except for the manicured lawns on the grounds. They had to line up at arm's length from each other. 

A bulldog-faced instructor stepped in front of the group where Luke had landed. He walked around them once and scrutinized them all. 

"You guys shut the fuck up and only talk when I say you can! I don't give a shit who you are or where you come from! If you fuck up, I'll personally kick your ass until you voluntarily give it to the street!" 

A cramped laugh rang out behind Luke, the instructor was there and rammed his fist into his stomach, causing the half-breed to fall to his knees, panting.

"You're in the army now, you assfaces!" 

He stomped ahead of them.

"You go over there now, drop off your stuff, call your moms and say goodbye! Then you go cut your lousy hair and get your stuff!" 

The run went quickly, and since Luke didn't have to drop anything off or call anyone, he was yelled at for being a worthless piece of shit but sent to get a haircut. Where they ruthlessly shaved his head in marathon fashion. Then the clothes were handed out and thanks to the scanner he was given some that fitted him but were uncomfortable. 

His group was chased into a room where they were chatted to, the equipment explained etc. Then they were led to their dormitory, just a big hall with bunk beds, where they had to find a bed. Luke got an upper one because the lower one was taken away by a mountain of guys. Change, clean up and then back out to start running training.

No matter where you looked or moved wrong, there was a coach standing next to you shouting in your ear. The first day was drawing to a close after a long run around the entire facility. 

Afterwards, exhausted, he rubbed his head dry and went to bed in shorts. Even now, when they were so exhausted, the others were chatting. With every word they said, Luke had the feeling that 90 percent of them were assholes. He came to the front of his bed, where a few had gathered.

"Yo fat ass," they started. 

They were blocking his way and he was really tired. 

He turned his towel over and cracked it like a whip.

"Towel fight!" he shouted. Those in front of his bed looked at him, puzzled, but it was too late. The others had already started. It only took a few minutes before his instructor came in.

"What the fuck!!! "

Everyone took a stance.

"You bastards! Which one of you asswipes started it?" 

The leader of the idiots in front of his bed pointed to the hatch.

The instructor stomped towards him.

" Recruit Akim!!! Special run! Now! The rest to their beds! "

Luke had to run barefoot for a few hours, combined with exercises. He came back even more tired than before. So he had to wash again. He climbed into his bed and fell asleep immediately.

Only to be woken up by his instructor.

"Get up you shitheads!!! Get dressed and get ready. "

They hurried up and lined up. Anyone who wasn't properly dressed was shouted at and had to straighten their clothes, then they ran to the canteen. 

There they had what was known as breakfast. Baking, on the other hand, was worthy of his mother's star kitchen, although she only managed to make things that made you throw up. They had to choke it down under time pressure, then it was off to class.

 Where the basics were taught in the simplest of terms. He sat there, looking at the faculty a woman with a too shrill voice. Luke really wondered what kind of idiots they must be, reading, writing...

Luke used the time to chill out, the standard wasn't very high. Then came the run, lunch and then the obstacle course again. Where he, like many others, had to throw up at the edge of the track. The combination of exertion and food.

In the evening, the other numbnuts from the previous day came to see him. He was lying in bed.

"Hey nerd! " 

Luke didn't respond. The bed was entered.

"Ey!"

" What?" he replied.

"You think you're better than that? Huh? Are you that smart?!"

Luke looked at her.

"Well, I'm here, aren't I? If I was so clever, wouldn't I be with the clever ones?"

Blinking, they looked at him.

"What?"

He groaned inwardly, he really had to sink to the level of Eddie. 

"Dude, if I was smart, I'd be taking notes and not ..."

They stared at him.

"But you're taking notes, Boleg saw it! "

Luke turned to them.

"Eh, yeah, the old girl'll get off if she doesn't catch you writing. I don't fancy doing press-ups in the corner. "

 And made off. After staring at him in silence.

He sighed inwardly, finally quiet.

" Ey " came softly from downstairs.

" What? " 

" Why are you fucking with them? "

" It's not worth it. " 

" Uh-huh ... Thanks for yesterday ... " 

" No problem " 

He drifted off to sleep, tiredness overtaking him.

A few days later, he was grabbed by the mountain of flesh beneath him. Helping him with the papers, etc. In return, he helped him strengthen himself.

It became so exhausting that he had to vomit more than once during the exercises. Then there were the obstacle courses, where they had to go through mazes, obstacles, climb up, climb down, crawl, etc., everything that made the instructor's heart beat faster and made the recruit cry. 

Shots were fired above them and hand grenades thrown. Had to crawl through guts or throw them in. Which made him puke even more.

They learned to march, get into position, etc. throw themselves on command. There was no reason to be picky with the underground. No, they had to get into everything, dirt, dust, mud, garbage, guts, water. Anything the instructors could find. Several times they even had to go into the organic waste. 

Then came the weapons and close combat training. Luke had the feeling that his comrades had just been waiting for this. Even when shooting, wrong grips and an instructor stood next to you and shouted at you. 

The hand-to-hand combat training was the same as Sarge had taught them, only more lax. The meat mountain taught him how to box. So in his spare time, besides playing cards, drinking, smoking, chasing nurses in administration, he also did boxing. 

Shooting training, Luke felt, was a miracle that he got out of it alive every time, most of his comrades knew how to handle a gun, but gun discipline was a foreign word. They were constantly yelling at someone to follow the rules, to empty the damn gun of ammunition when they were done and not to point the thing at anyone. Cleaning the guns was where it finally got quiet, more because the others were concentrating. 

One morning during inspection, the instructor pulled out a piece of paper.

"Poop sticks! You're ready to choose your squad leader! Which one of you poop stilts!"

The biggest and most arrogant asshole Luke had ever seen spoke up. If something didn't work out or he didn't manage something because of his stupidity, he was given an extra snarl. And so they alternated between shouting at him and doing punishment exercises during training.

Luke used the free periods to attend courses, the most important thing for him was to finally get his driver's license and the army made it easy for him. He realized that when he stood there and watched the trucks thunder past and said to himself. 

"Hey wait... that's the army... I can get a license for free..." On the island he would have had to sit through ages of courses first, then practical lessons etc etc... Here. One course and driving around. So he immediately wrote down everything he found. 

There were group exercises, scenarios, practical training missions where they had to hunt down and shoot infected people individually. It was all about making the army base safer. 

Luke said it was just a bunch of dumb half-wits assigned to the cleanup. 

Luke couldn't remember how many, as always they were supposed to kill a few infected. Their squad was dropped off and the asshole told them where to go. Only a few of their squad were killed in the mission because he deliberately sent them to their deaths. 

Luke freaked out, beat him up, knocked his teeth out, broke his nose. Jaw dislocated, ribs cracked and other bones broken, he didn't remember what he'd done. They had dragged him away with great force.

When he came back, he was taken to the military hospital and then dragged before the base commander. 

"Recruit Akim." 

Luke groaned inwardly, his mother had insisted he use his father's last name as Schornsdorf was too well known. 

"Why did they attack Rekurt Jankins?"

"He was about to lead our group into the nearest infected pack, the last encounter cost us five men, sir."

The commander looked at him.

"And why didn't the group relieve him of his duties?"

" Because ¾ of the others are his followers, sir."

The commander looked at his tablet.

"Recruit, you will be stripped of all leave and disciplined until the end of basic training."

"Aye sir..."

Luke quickly realized that he was serious. Not just slapping his fingers. Cleaning, washing, toilets, mail, cooking, driving and all that on top of his daily duties. He threw up more than once because of it. But he got through it. At the end of basic training, everyone in his barracks was against him because his group was dead anyway. 

Luckily for him, he was sent for further training while the others had to go to the front. He then had to do courses where he had no idea what he was signed up for. Fortunately for him, 90% of what he had to do was just listen, demonstrate practically and that was it.

Advanced marksmanship training, close combat training, field medicine, survival training, swimming and diving courses, parachuting, orbital jumping, driving training for other army vehicles, helicopter training, radio courses, foreign language courses, speaking, reading and writing, map courses, maintenance courses, mechanics courses, computer courses, file filling courses, clerical courses, there was even a course on how to make fools of people, sniper course etc etc. He lost track and just let it wash over him.

Every time he managed to do something, he was invited back and sent on. Every now and then there were a few days when, if he had to wait, he was grabbed by an officer who thought he was a drifter and put into a combat unit. 

As it happened, he was on combat duty more than once and was only recaptured at the end of the MP and hauled back to the course. 

He was out of the extended mechanics course, standing at the bus depot and smoking. An MP van stopped in front of him. Two burly men got out.

"Soldier, what unit?"

" Sir, I just got off the course ..." 

They grabbed him and his field bag and took him to the next plane. They didn't ask, put his combat gear on him and put him in an infantry unit. 

He had learned that they were mixed troops, filled up with leftovers.

A sergeant stood in front of them on the plane.

"Men! We're taking today " it always started like that or " we're defending the zone " or " we're destroying the mob " or " we're hunting ", but it was always the same cannon fodder really.

Luke threw himself into the trench as the bullets whistled overhead and the artillery struck. The infected were already a big problem, but the riots were even worse. He threw a hand grenade, jumped up and sprinted to the nearest corner of the house, rounded the corner and ran along the wall. There were infected people staggering around the corner. 

He shot them in the head, jumped through windows, crawled to the next wall and took a deep breath. He reloaded, stood up, looked around as he walked, infected again. This time in uniform, shot them in the head and took their ammunition and hand grenades. Climbed out of the nearest window.

 Shot and blasted his way to where they were supposed to go. Only to find that the super guys, the ones from the regular units, with fixed teams etc. had taken it. They stared at Luke as he arrived.

"Shit, where have you been?" came the question.

" Back by the slums, my platoon got dropped off there." 

" Boy, you're the only one from there."

" Explains all the infected soldiers." 

He was treated by the field doctor, put on the next plane and taken to the next course. This was repeated so often that he began to see the same faces, know names and strike up conversations.

 Then suddenly he was brought before the exo-commander, who told him he could now start in the exo-division. In Hawaii and all he had to do was show up for duty on time.