Turns out, Sergeant Gioia's gifts to us were fighting knives. One for each of us, and they all had our initials hand-carved into the hilts. Not the ideal Christmas present, but hey, it's our drill sergeant. It's nice he even thought to get us something that we might need to use in the future.
Now Christmas is dead and gone, and although New Year's is just around the corner, that doesn't mean we can stop pushing onward. We have a war to prepare for; the fact that I even need to think that makes me sick to my stomach.
With each passing day, the horrifying inevitable inches closer and closer.
But first, we have to endure physical combat training. On New Year's Day.
"Nothing says Happy New Year like kicking the shit out of each other, am I right?" Frank jokes as Delta Company hikes to meet Sergeant Gioia in the training field.
I'm going to get my teeth knocked out.
It's an overcast day, completely gray and dark and dismal, perfectly matching my thoughts about learning hand-to-hand combat. I knew this day was coming, but no amount of fretting could've prepared me for the real moment. I can't even squish a spider without whimpering to myself. How am I ever going to be able to punch another human being in the face? How am I ever going to recover when I'm knocked to the ground? We all know that's going to happen within the first ten seconds of the fight. I may have gotten stronger over the past few weeks, but no way in hell am I ever going to be able to physically fight with another person, especially someone from Delta Company. I don't like hurting people. I'm not cut out for the physical fights.
Well, I'm not really cut out for any of this stuff, but here I am anyway.
Sergeant Gioia waits for us in the training field, his expression back to that usual cold scowl. He crosses his arms over his chest as we rush to attention. I'm not ready for this.
"Good morning, boys," he says. His voice booms over the vast empty field. "I hope you're prepared for some serious shit today. We're gonna be learning physical combat.
"Now, I know you pussies have probably never been in a fight your entire miserable lives. That's where I step in. You'll learn all of the basics here, and then, over the next couple of weeks, we'll hone those skills. Understand? It'll take us a while, judging by how scrawny you losers look, but we'll get there eventually. Practice makes perfect.
"We'll split into two groups of three, and because we're uneven, there'll be two groups of four. That means three of you lucky bastards are gonna get stuck with me."
Please don't pick me. Please don't pick me. Please don't pick me.
"Group one will be Private Whiny Voice, Private Midget, and Private Vampire Way. Hope you're ready to hate each other."
I let out a sigh of relief at the thought of not getting my ass kicked by Sergeant Gioia, but now I'm with Tyler and Frank. I don't want to hurt either one of them. Or rather, I don't want them to hurt me, because without a doubt, I'm going to be the first one knocked on my rear. We've been over this. I'm not built for fighting.
From down the line, though, I see Frank turn to flash me a wink. I can't tell if that means he's going to go easy on me, or if that means he's going to punch me so hard I'll get knocked into next Tuesday. It's tricky trying to read his expressions sometimes.
"Group two will be Private Piss, Private Dun, and Private Blind Way. I haven't picked a name for you yet, Dun, because you haven't pissed me off so far. Consider yourself lucky, private."
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The Ghost of Him |WWII Frerard AU|
Fanfiction"You are never coming home." * * * There are some days in life you'll never forget. Your first date, perhaps, or even your first kiss. Maybe even your first experience with death, because not all of these days have to be good. Some of these day...
