Glyph

Chapter 16

As Dirk neared the turn off into his squad camp, he waved at Albert. "This is my camp. See ya, Albert." Albert smiled in acknowledgement and continued on.

When he reached the orderly square of tents, he saw Cordan sitting by the fire, along with most of the squad. 

""Hey, Dirk," he called. "Where did you go?"

"I slipped and fell in dirt. Took me a while to get it off my uniform," Dirk replied glumly.

Cordan stifled a laugh. "Too bad," he said.

Dirk glared at him. "Yes, it is." He grinned. "It would be even worse if you were to get some on your uniform."

Leaning down, he scooped up some dirt from the ground. Molding it into a dry ball, he started walking tauntingly towards Cordan. 

"Dirk, come on," pleaded Cordan. "We have combat drills." He was grinning and backing away.

Dirk slumped in mock defeat. "Alright."

Suddenly he let it fly at Cordan. The ball of dirt scattered partially in the air but most held together.

Cordan let out a squawk and leapt up in the air and to the side, his knees flailing, looking very akin to an avian species.

Dirk burst out laughing at the apparently flightless bird.

Cordan straightened himself and looked mortified at the noise that had erupted from his mouth. Looking very dignified, he pointedly turned on his heel, and stalked off.

Dirk, still chortling, caught up with him. "Oh, c'mon, don't be mad. It was just a joke," he said. 

Cordan looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "And?"

"And I'm sorry," Dirk said, sitting on a log and patting the spot next to him.

Cordan conceded and sat down. "Then I accept your apology."

Dirk smiled graciously. "Good," he said seriously. "Besides, you should have seen your face!" He exploded into raucous guffaws.

Cordan's lips twitched, but he otherwise remained stony-faced.

Sergeant Bridds strode into camp quickly. "Alright, troops, form up!," he barked at them.

Quickly all the men of Dirk's squad lined up. As before, there was only half of the usual amount.

"Men," continued Bridds. "Before we head to the training grounds, I have something to tell you."

He cleared his throat and looked down. His voice took on a more somber tone. "As, you know, we have lost a number of comrades.....recently and so of course those.......vacancies will soon be filled."

He rushed past the sticky and hesitant matter with his usual tact. "So you will keep your usual positions. They are sending us the new recruits after lunch this afternoon."

"Move out," he barked, ignoring any time needed to absorb this news. 

"Wonder what the newbies will be like?" Dirk heard one man mutter to his compatriot.

As they marched up the steep incline to the training ground, Bridds kept pace with the company, jogging along on the outside of the block. He kept up a constant stream of verbal abuse, levelled mainly at the men's ability to march and keep time.

"One, two, one, two! Got that? What, did you run into a building as a game as a child?," he taunted one puffing young man.

Dirk who had long mastered the art of marching, and more importantly, of melting into the background, rolled his eyes and kept on moving.