Third Person - Complete

Bullshit

Roberts looked at his qualification sheet, the paper target with the silhouettes of men from the waist up on it. He'd shot forty out of forty once he'd checked his zero against his Basic Training zero. He felt a surge of pleasure at the fact that he'd managed to be a first time perfect shooter. He carried the sheet over to Sergeant Battle, who had just come back from over by the vehicles. Roberts had heard a bunch of yelling, but he hadn't paid attention. The ambulance had just pulled out, and Roberts wondered who had gotten injured bad enough to have to be evac'd out in the middle of qualification.

Roberts stopped in front of Sergeant First Class Battle, handing the female E-7 his qualification sheet. She looked down at it, seeing it was signed off on by Staff Sergeant Rennings, then handed it back.

"Nice shooting, Private," SFC Battle said, nodding. "Did Sergeant Rennings log it."

"Yes, Sergeant," Roberts said, feeling another rush of pride.

"All right. Go relax, lunch will be here in about an hour. Things are going pretty smoothly, so we'll be doing full auto practice later and night fire once the sun goes down," SFC Battle said. She turned and walked away.

Roberts ran back up. "Sergeant, I heard that there might be a sniper position open in my squad. Can I try out?" He asked.

Sergeant Battle stopped, looking at Roberts. "You must be in First Squad," She mused.

"Yes, Sergeant," Roberts said.

"You realize that the position is temporary? Your current sniper is at Sniper School at Fort Benning and when she gets back she'll be resuming her duties," She said.

"Yes, Sergeant," Roberts said. He didn't know that sniper out at Atlas was a woman. "I thought Sniper School wasn't open to women."

Sergeant Battle looked Roberts up and down slowly before answering. "Females aren't permitted to attend Sniper School, but an exception was made by the Secretary of the Army in Specialist Lovawitz's case."

"Oh," Roberts said. He didn't understand the disapproval he heard in Sergeant Battle's tone. Maybe she didn't approve of a woman getting special treatment?

"Still, I want to try to qualify," Roberts insisted.

"Your squad leader was just taken to the hospital. Go ask your assistant squad leader," SFC Battle said, turning away. She was annoyed with the PFC, his use of the word woman instead of females and the slight disapproving tone she'd heard at the idea of Lovawitz attending Sniper School rankled on her nerves. It was bad enough that she had to put up with that kind of shit from the soldiers of the Old Guard, but hearing it from one of the newbies was especially grating.

Roberts felt a little surge of hope. It was doubtful that Stillwater would let him try out for the sniper rifle, but maybe whoever was assistant squad leader would let him.

He hurried over to the vehicles, seeing Lewis sitting against the sand bags drinking out of her canteen. There was a man with his helmet tilted forward to shield his eyes next to her. He unbuckled his LBE and pulled open his Kevlar vest, the sound of the Velcro loud in the sudden moment of silence from the firing line.

"Lewis," Roberts said.

Lewis looked up and squinted for a second. "Close your vest," She said.

"Don't tell me what to do. I out rank you," Roberts reminded her.

The guy next to Lewis reached up, tilting his helmet back and looking up. "Close your fucking vest, Private," He said, moving his hand from his helmet to tap his collar where Specialist rank rode.

Frowning, Roberts shut his vest.

"We're down range. You keep your vest closed down range," The guy said, tilting his helmet back forward to cover his eyes again.