Cold Hatred (Book 2 & 3 of the Damned of the 2/19th) -Updated and Rewritten

Cold Hatred Part: 7.1

"Second of the Nineteenth taught hard lessons and we

learned them or died. The lessons were carved into us

in pain, scars, blood, and loss. But some came to

Alfenwehr and thought they already knew the lessons.

We could teach them those hard lessons, or they'd die.

It was simple. It wasn't malice. It was just the way things were."

2/19th Special Weapons Group

Restricted Area, Alfenwehr West Germany

Late Winter- January, 1986

Day 11 of Repairs

Day 3 of the Second Incident

Morning

The temperature had definitely dropped in the barracks while we were asleep. Standing in the hallway the proof was obvious to anyone. Ice was glimmering on the walls, ceiling, and the "frosted" florescent light covers. The waxed floor was slick with patches of near-invisible ice. Additionally, my cousins were treated to the sight of tiny snowflakes drifting down the near stairwell from the darkness above.

"They make you live here?" Cassius asked, holding out one hand so the flakes drifted into his palm, remained for a second, and then turned into tiny drops of water.

"It isn't that bad," I told them, moving slowly down the stairs, keeping one hand on the bannister for balance in case I hit ice on the steps. "Things could be worse."

"How could things be any... ow!" Cassius started, then yelled when Nancy smacked him across the back of the head.

"Don't say that shit, you idiot 'cruit," Nancy snarled. "You'll kill us all."

We were silent as we pushed through the door and into the CQ Area, discovering that we were the first of Rear-D to arrive with the exception of the CQ Crew. Lanks looked like she was going to drop, having pulled CQ Duty, a day off, then CQ Duty again. The LT was looking over the logs and talking quietly with Lanks. I noticed that his normally perfect hair was slightly mussy, he had purplish circles under his eyes, and he was wearing his pistol with the M1911A1 riding in it. My eyes immediately went to the pistol holster, and I noted that the pistol was unsnapped, allowing it to be drawn quickly. A little bit that surprised me was that the pistol wasn't in the exact position it was supposed to be according to uniform standards, but he'd rather moved it to a place where he could draw it quickly in a cross draw.

Some things weren't exactly adding up where the LT was concerned, and I suddenly wished he was in the habit of wearing his Class-A's to impress us all, because his medals might let me fit some of the puzzle pieces. Fill in some of the questions, some of the blanks. I hated having incomplete intelligence about a situation, not having data that might make the difference with a decision I might have to make.

Lack of intelligence was dangerous.

In 2/19th, dangerous meant deadly.

Now that I thought about it, I don't think he'd ever attended a Class-A inspection.

"Corporal Stillwater," the LT called out when he saw me. I moved up went to salute, and he made a chopping motion, shaking his head. "No need for that." I nodded, dropping my hand, and he continued. "I am hereby informing you that I'm assigning Private McCullen to your squad, you will be in charge of her and will determine her duties."

...aw shit...

"While she may be placed in another squad or even another platoon once her assignment with Rear Detachment is finished, for the moment, you are her squad leader and I expect you to treat her with the respect and the dignity that her rank and status deserve. I've deduced that there's some kind of history between the two of you, but since that history predates your military service you will keep it out of your military life." I kept my face as neutral as possible, ignoring the hate filled hiss of the little lizard at the idea of her being out at Atlas with us.