Far From Home

Week Zero: Reception

"Get off the bus! Go! Go! Go! Go!"

I saw a relatively large man walk toward me and grab me my by jacket.

"That means you Private!" He shouts in my face.

"Yes Drill Sergeant!" I said. It was all I could think to say, after the 12 hour flight from my home town of Aspen, Colorado to Georgia, followed by another 8 hours of driving to Fort Benning to begin training.

As I was hustled off the bus, I was ordered to put my head in my duffel bag, which was on my chest. My three older brothers had already joined the service, so I knew that this was just a way for them to confuse and scare us. The recruit ahead of me must have looked up, because I heard him being dropped, and the Drill Sergeant yelling in his ear. I was determined not to look up then.

After a few hours of various disorientation techniques being used on us and our whole platoon doing about two hundred push-ups, we were marching down the road singing cadence.

*cadence*

We arrived at a plain brick building, and at first glance there was nothing special about it.

"This is your platoon's barracks. This will be your home for the next eight weeks you are going to spend here."

Great, I thought, here I was thinking my house was dull.

"Private Harris! Did you hear a single word of what I just said?!"

Oh God, that was me.

"No, Drill Sergeant." I muttered.

"Sound off private!"
"No, Drill Sergeant!" I shouted.

"Drop. You owe me 25."

"Yes, Drill Sergeant!" I said as I began to do push-ups. I wasn't in the best shape, but these push-ups weren't too much trouble.

"One, Drill Sergeant. Two, Drill Sergeant. Three..."

That went on until I was done.

After I was up, we went into the barracks.

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So, this is the first chapter in what I hope will be a much longer book or even a series. If I get even two votes or  comments I'll continue this book. Thanks to anyone who reads this :)