Another damn day of babysitting these rookies who think they're soldiers. The sorriest bunch I've ever laid eyes on, and I've seen some pitiful recruits in my time. Their stance is wrong, their spirit is weaker than an infant's grip on life, and when I asked for the best of men, they sent me this lot? It's a bloody disgrace. The Russians would eat them alive and spit them out without so much as a sweat, and that's not something I'll let stain my reputation. Hell no.
I barked "Hold!" and every last one of them froze like the useless sacks of flesh they are.
"What in the hell do you think you're doing?" I yelled, voice carrying across the field like a storm over the horizon.
"Your stance is shit. Your grip on that sword? You may as well be holding a feather. And you—" I glared at one of the rookies who had the audacity to mutter something under his breath, "—think you'd last a millisecond against a Russian soldier?"
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He didn't answer, just kept muttering like an idiot. That was it. I was in front of him in a heartbeat, boot to his chest, throwing him down into the dirt.
"Look at you, you worthless piece of crap. I wouldn't trust you to survive a street brawl, let alone war. Pack up, you're done. How the hell am I supposed to make a man out of someone like you?"
The bastard just laid there, stunned. Pathetic.
"The rest of you, take notes, because I'm not here to babysit. I'm here to train soldiers, not a bunch of limp-dicked cowards."
That got their attention. The training ramped up from there, and I made sure to grind them into the dirt. Buckets filled with bricks, run for miles, and if even one brick fell, they started over. No mercy, not in my camp. They swam through the muck while I had pig shit dumped on them. They gagged, slowed down, but I screamed at them.
"We're supposed to be as swift as a coursing river, even when covered in shit!"
Sparring was a damn mess. They had no strength, no heart.
"You fight like you're asking to be murdered!" I roared at them.
"Give me strength like a raging fire, the force of a damn typhoon, or I swear to the gods, I'll toss you out myself."
One cocky bastard had the nerve to speak up.
"Bet you couldn't do half of what we're doing right now, General," he sneered.
