Third Person - Complete

Motto

Roberts sat in the back of the class, only paying half attention to the lecture. It wasn't like he was going to get a driver's license, so why should he worry about German road signs? The previous class had been the first of the German language lessons. Roberts had felt like an idiot, repeating everything over and over with the rest of the class.

When was he ever going to be able to go off post? Meet any Germans? He was trapped on this section of a mountain where even the morning PT situps had made him and other new people pass out from the thin air.

And having that female Lieutenant, Dawson, tell him that he wouldn't be going on the run had been humiliating. She'd told a bunch of people that they couldn't go, but it still, even after lunch, made him burn with humiliation. He'd woken up from being passed out, that fat woman telling the Lieutenant that he'd be OK, and the Lieutenant had looked down at him and told him that he wouldn't be going on the run.

Roberts ducked his head down, knowing his ears were burning from the memory.

"All right, everyone, take a fifteen minute break," The Captain at the front of the class said. "When you come back, Supply will be loading your War Stocks pallets with your War Stocks gear.

Everyone stood up, and when Roberts turned around he saw the Colonel, the XO, and the Sergeant Major standing at the back, silently watching against the wall, standing at ease.

"You coming?" Newsome asked, elbowing Roberts.

Roberts just grunted, following Newsome toward the heavy loading door.

"Look at all this gear, man," Newsome was saying. "This room is so cool."

Roberts looked around at the massive room. On the right, when facing the door to the hallway, was pallets of concertina wire, tents, light sets in heavy metal boxes, and all kinds of other field equipment. On the left was pallets of equipment covered by small square tarps. They'd been told that each pallet contained a complete replacement for all the equipment, all the TA-50, that each soldier was issued.

"Why?" Roberts grunted as they filed out of the room and onto the back loading dock. It was foggy, misty rain that seemed to just drift in the air.

"Heyyy, Sergeant Martins," Newsome said, pointing his index fingers at the NCO standing outside smoking a cigarette.

"Private," The NCO nodded, not stopping his staring at the parking lot.

Newsome grinned at Roberts, walking down the stairs and out onto the asphalt of the parking lot. He turned around and walked backwards, smiling at Roberts.

"Dude, how can you not love this?" Newsome seemed excited. "I mean, learning German, finding out we can sign up for all kinds of classes, even use our GI Bill early after a year? What's not cool about this place?"

"It sucks here," Roberts said. He felt out of breath just walking down the stairs. He refused to sit down, willing the spots in front of his eyes to go away. He looked up at the cloudy sky. "Does it ever stop raining? I hate this fog too."

Newsome laughed. "Come on, dude, you know this isn't rain and fog, right?"

"What?" Roberts asked.

"Weren't you paying attention?" Newsome asked. He saw Roberts's frown and shook his head. "You don't remember? This isn't rain. This isn't a fog. We're up in a cloud. It's raining down on main post, this is like teeny-tiny droplets that turn into raindrops. This fog, it's a cloud."

Roberts glared at the other man, who just shrugged and lit a cigarette. "It was nice on the run."

"You got to go on the run?" Roberts asked.