Grunt Work

The New Recruits

The base was starting to feel alive for maybe the first time since I'd been there.

Don't get me wrong, the dark and empty hallways were still dark and for the most part empty. But patrols were more frequent.

Well, kinda.

And the big rooms that I never quite figured out what they were for were filled with the sound of voices and laughter.

Again. Kinda.

So they had to go through training. Firearms drills. Grunt training, VIP protection training, squad based assault tactics, evasion tactics, ethics classes. Not to mention the learning of the layout of the base. We lost a few in the early days. On the plus side, we found most of them again. As for the others, well, we found most of them. Haven't quite got a whole body yet.

I did make a few more friends. Like that girl from the recruitment drive? Her name's Katya. She is talky. Very talky.

'So you were a soldier?' Katya asked me during one exercise.

'That I was,' I confirmed, and because of that experience I was tasked with the more military aspects of training. I wasn't really much of a teacher, so I just had them do a shorter version of basic training, which here was teaching them to shoot straight in the range.

'Is that why you're here?' she asked.

'Uh huh,' I said. 'Couldn't get many jobs once I left, and the pay's good.'

'We learned about that in ethics class,' she said.

'What did you learn?' I asked, then realised too late that I shouldn't have given her an opening.

'Oh, about the dehumanisation of the working class, with respect to the armed forces. About how they strip soldiers of their humanity, tell them to go off to shoot people who look different. And then when they're done with you they forget about you, cast you off like you're nothing. About how they talk about respecting the troops but put no money into the care of veterans, both physical and mental health services being woefully underfunded.'

... 'Right,' I said. I was still trying to figure out who the they was. I didn't want to ask.

She gave me a long look. I had a feeling I'd upset her, but she had the good manners to not say anything. I appreciated that about her. 'That's what I like about this organisation,' she carried on. 'We're treated as individuals. Not just throw away pawns to be used by an uncaring government, fighting in wars that just advance their own gains or agendas. Or invade countries that were perfectly fine on their own. We're fighting for something we all believe in, from top to bottom.'

'Right,' I said, adjusting her grip on the rifle. I heard one of the ex-prisoners next to us snort.

'That's us, all right,' said Johnnie Mac, and carried on shooting in small controlled bursts. His self reported record didn't list any experience with the armed forces, but he handled rifles well enough, and I hardly had to give him any instruction. 'Fucking martyrs to the cause.'

Katya frowned at him. 'You don't believe?'

'Oh I believe, all right,' he replied. 'I believe in three square meals a day and a warm bed at night. I keep getting that, I'll do my job.'

I saw Katya draw herself up, take in a big breath in.

'Let's focus on our training,' I said before she could start. 'And once everyone manages to get 80% accuracy on their card, I'll treat you all to ice cream!'

It took a while for some of the new recruits to get up to scratch, but the ice cream was good after And while we sat in the cafeteria eating our rewards, Winnie came in with some good news.

'Now then, everyone,' she said as we stood to attention. 'How is training coming along? Is it going good?'

'Very good, Boss!' I said, beaming at the others. 'Bit more spit and polish and they'll fit right in!'

'See that you all hurry on this spit and polishing. We have an important job coming up and I need you all fit for purpose.'

'Oh, nice. What's the job, Boss?'

'Tell me. Have you ever been to San Francisco?'