Bianca Guerra, the first female paratrooper in the US Army. She has a long road to prove that she belongs and that she is worthy of respect and loyalty. But she ain't what the officers and the NCO's think.
Will she manage to become the soldier she...
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-"Zim, zam, goodamn, we're airborne infantry."
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BIANCA'S POV
Hatred. We all had it, somewhere within us we had it. For some of us it was buried deep inside, so far that it was barely even noticeable and for some of us it was right there at the surface, almost touchable. And we all had our reasons for that hatred. It could be ethnical, political or it could just simply be because of the actions of another human being. It could be anything. We all had our reasons. But we had to learn to control our hatred, minimise it, bury it, or just channel it into something useful.
"Ready to fire some shots, Princess?" Liebgott asked with smug fucking smile that made me want to rip his fucking throat.
"You ready for it to go boom?" He asked and the rest of the guys chuckled.
"Yeah, just watch out so it's not you that goes boom." I said and his smirk disappeared as everyone kept on chuckling. We walked inside the barrack and I grabbed the M1 Garand, making sure it was clean and rust free.
"You leaving already?" Randleman asked as I got up from the chair beside my bed to head to the left field.
"It takes 2 minutes to get to the left field." He added.
"Doesn't matter, he doesn't need any more ammunition than he already has." I said as I walked out, referring to the fact that being on time could maybe spare me from running Currahee for the second time today. So, I was prepared to stand there until Sobel arrived. And I did. I stood there, with my M1 Garand in my arm, looking out into nowhere. Eventually other people showed up and lined up next to me, waiting for Captain Sobel and Winters to arrive.
"Teeen hut!" Winters said and we stood in a position of attention and saluted the two officers.
"Rifle training." Sobel said, standing in front of us with his hands behind his back.
"This is the training that will evolve you into true soldiers. Knowing your rifle is crucial for your survival." He said. I couldn't agree more.
"You've already gotten the basics explained to you in yesterday's lecture, it's time to put the theoretical into practice. You have seven shots to get a small can of peaches down from 300 metres away." He said.
We all found ourselves lying down in the grass, aiming to hit an empty can of peaches. I took a deep breath as I wanted to pin it just a little to the right of the middle. I needed to stay calm to get the accuracy I wanted.
"We fall upon the risers." I quietly began to sing the Currahee running song as I aimed for the peach can.
"We fall upon the grass." I mumbled.
"We never land upon our feet, we always hit our ass." I mumbled.
"Ai, Ai, Christ almighty. Who the hell are we?" I mumbled.
