I hate my squad sergeant. Though, that shouldn't come as a big surprise.
The first time I ever laid eyes on him, the day he introduced himself during basic, Technical Sergeant William Pierson demands for an answer why I'm here. Later that same day, he orders me to run three additional miles compared to the others, out of sheer spite.
I missed dinner. It's only thanks to Zussman, my first ever buddy, that I get something to eat that day. He'd smuggled some bread and toppings with him, presenting it to my crumbled self once I returned hungry and drained from the showers. To say I was upset is an understatement.
Usually, an introduction like this would prevent one from ever coming in contact with that same person again― except that... well, I didn't have any say in the matter.
William Pierson ismy squad sergeant after all. There's no way around him. The sixteen incoming weeks of basic would be led by none other than him, not to mention the campaign that would follow.
One can imagine how well it went. From humiliation to excessive physical training, sergeant Pierson let me suffer like no other under his hands. Everybody notices of his distaste of me. Everybody speaks of it. Every night I fell asleep with the worst aches imaginable, and woke up with hatred stronger than the day before.
He damn well tried, but ultimately failed to break me. I mastered the skills he tried to defeat me with and prevailed.
Now, it's my turn. I recon it's solely his fault he has to deal with someone like me now. I'm obedient, no doubt. But at the same time, I've sworn to never hold back again, to return the favour in the only way possible for a simple private like myself.
It's false to say we remind people of a bickering couple. Because it's a lot worse than that. So much so, Lieutenant Turner is sometimes forced to step in when things escalate again.
Everyone is sure, no amount of counselling could ever weld us together. I am too. When stubbornness collides with similar kind, they will burn each other down to their bones. We were no different.
I've grown a lot since those brutal weeks of basic.
Not in height, but as a person. I'm not the scared, meek girl that once quivered under the bellows of a single demented sergeant. During our march through France, I have stared death in the eyes countless times. My struggles top those I had back in America a hundredfold. And despite it all, I'm standing-, strong and proud.
Not even Pierson could change that.
But- the universe could. And it will. As if my life wasn't hard enough already, the world would once more show its true face with a tasteless joke, that would,- quite literally, tie me to the one person I despise more than anyone else.
![𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 | [W.PIERSON/Reader] | Call of Duty: WW2](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/301178214-64-k199212.jpg)