The Ghost of Him |WWII Frerard AU|

-20-

Brendon's twenty-first birthday was just a few days after mine, and although we still celebrated with him, no one made him a cake. I don't think he cared in the slightest, though. I think the fact that he can legally drink back in America was much more exciting to him than a silly little cake.

Now our weapons training only continues, the same exact practices and exercises every single day until we show progress, which I think we're doing. There aren't nearly as many tears as the first time we fired guns. No one has fallen on their ass because of the kick. We're starting to somewhat hit the targets, too, so all in all, I'd say we're ready to hit the battlefield.

I'm joking. We are far from ready for that right now.

After a few more days of intense target practice, Sergeant Gioia and Captain Kjellberg barge into our barracks at the crack of dawn, their expressions devilish and a bag of supplies in their hands. Whatever is inside those bags, however, I have no idea, but I can't help but fear that whatever they're planning for us, it's far from good.

"Good morning, boys," Captain Kjellberg booms as we struggle to wake ourselves up. "I hope you love the great outdoors as much as I do. Why, you ask? Good question. For the next week, you will be working on your survival skills out in the forest. Yes, you heard me correctly. Seven days in the forest. I sincerely hope some of you have been camping before, because otherwise....this shit will not end well."

I really hope I'm still asleep and I'm having some sort of fever dream. I don't want what I'm hearing to be true. I hate camping with a burning passion. I barely survived our family camping trip, and that was with actual helpful supplies. Knowing Kjellberg and Gioia, they're going to toss us out into the forest with the bare minimum and expect us to survive. I will not last seven days outside. That's a fact.

But alas, I was awake the entire time, and we actually have to spend seven days in the wilderness and somehow come out unscathed. I'm tempted to make my own headstone out of twigs and rocks while everyone has their back turned.

As the sun rises higher into the pink morning sky, Sergeant Gioia pulls Delta Company aside to give us a briefing while Captain Kjellberg does the same with Serpent Company. I guess this is where we get our "supplies" and get a rundown of what we're expected to do, and unfortunately, I don't think "give up and die in a hole" is on the list. That's a shame.

"All right, boys, listen up," Sergeant Gioia says, his voice low and his expression serious. "It might not seem like it, but this is gonna be one of the most vital parts of your training. Battles go into stalemates a lot, and sometimes, the weather conditions can be harsh. You need to learn how to survive in places humans aren't built to thrive in if you wanna last in a stalemate. You got that? I'm talking cooperation, building fires, hunting for food if need be. If you can't last these seven days with each other, then you won't last five minutes in a stalemate out there. Do you understand?"

Despite the overwhelming fear of the unknown, everyone instinctively replies, "Yes, sir."

"Good." Sergeant Gioia gives a firm nod as he retrieves the supply bag. "The bare necessities are in here, like your tents. Everything else you'll have to fight for." He pauses, scanning over the group with his scrutinizing gaze. "Ross, you'll be in charge of the bag. You look relatively responsible, what with your medic training and all that shit."

Ryan, his eyes wide with fear, takes the bag of supplies; when he flashes me a nervous look, I only give him a nod of reassurance in response. He can handle it. I trust him.

"Now, I've also assigned you sleeping arrangements, so that way you can't buddy up with your best pals and pretend like bombshells aren't raining down around you," Sergeant Gioia goes on, his tone just as dry and angry as usual. "Survival means adapting. You have to learn how to adapt to the situations you're given, and with minimal bitching. Understand?"