Grumble…
I truly hate it when the muse goes off on a drunken wander…
Comments? Recommendations? Bueller???
Morgan racked his rifle in its proper place, scratched an itch in his beard, picked up the debris from the rifle cleaning, and dropped it in the burn bin as Top Sergeant London strode into the armory. “Gah, you stink Sergeant Diederik. What the hell did you and Alesander roll in?”
Morgan slumped on the bench, taking a long drink from the electrolyte bulb. “Top, it was a hundred ten out there, no wind, not enough liquids, and we spent two damned days in that concealed hide up on the mountain. Didn’t see shit to shoot at either.”
London shrugged. “Well, it was fitty-fitty which side was going to get action. I figured you’d get plenty the way the opord was laid out. Anyway, we were OPFOR, so we didn’t really have control.”
Corporal Alesander, short, squat, black-haired with two days of beard, stumped in, racked his rifle and sat down across from Morgan. “Top, you fucked us. Maurice and Archie got nine kills, resupplied, and a nice, shaded hide. Why don’t you like us?”
London’s grin was feral at best. “Well, you two are the colonel’s golden boys.” He pointed at Morgan. “Just look at the good sergeant. Doesn’t he look like a poster boy for the reserves? Bright blonde hair, beard, blue eyes, slim, fit, why he’s a vid star, doncha know.”
Morgan surged up off the bench, glaring at London, who took a step back. “Top, we do our drills. You know our scores are better than anybody else in the batt. Yes, we saved the colonel’s life during the Gamma Five excursion when he was a major. Yes, he knows who we are by name. Why do you have a hard on for us? You’ve never been in combat with us!”
“Don’t have to be to know sleazebags like you that trade on their laurels with the brass.” London bristled. “Get cleaned up and fall out for formation in thirty. I’ll be back to see if your weapons are actually clean.” With that, he stomped out of the armory, leaving Morgan and Jess staring at one another.
Diederik looked up at the overhead and finally said, “Jess, I’m wondering if staying in the reserves is worth it. Six years active, and now four here on Epsilon Prime and I’m still a sergeant and you’re still a corporal.”
Alesander got up slowly. “I know, Morgan. I know. But it’s still extra money, and,” he grinned, “We still get to play with our toys.” Turning toward the door, he added, “I’m for the shower and a clean uniform. You and I both know London is going to fail our weapons, so we’ll have to come clean them again, so I’m going to keep this uniform handy.”
“Yeah, that asshole will find something to gig us on.”
I have NO idea where this one is going, nor any idea how long it is. I think my muse is paying me back for kidding Dot about her…side WIP…
Looks like a good starter.
A certain Gurkha det could come by to help “fix” an incursion, and pick up a couple new snipers who want to change units, I mean emigrate.
That sounds interesting. Maybe the muse wants to revisit the Rim.
Topic suggestions ? Well, dove season will soon begin 2024 hunting season in Texas. Maybe a general hunting success forecast ? The work associated with getting your hunting lease up to speed ? Zeroing your rifle the most effectively.
Probably forget about ‘best hunting round’ – that gets chairs thrown and bulging eyes, lol.
The above story sounds interesting. Thanks for submitting it. I wish I could write as well as a lot of you folks who make it look easy.
Hey Old NFO;
Hmmm That has real possibilities….which world are you gonna *add* that muse run to?
This sounds great. The tone reminds me of your Grey Man Generations novella.
Maybe these are some of Jaces’ team mates from the Jolo raid, in later years.
The petty b*ullsh*t reminds me of what happened to one of my good friends’ widow, after he died of a heart attack on terminal leave from a deployment to Bagram from which he did not take a mid deployment break.
He had been Army, but when he looked for a Reserve posting, he ended up in the Air Reserve.
The Air Force f*cked with his death benefits until someone, probably at the senior Sergeant/ Warrant level dropped his service record on the desk of the COS of the Army.
Sh*t was sorted by the close of business that day.
All- Thanks, and ‘some’ topics aren’t worth touching jrg…LOL
John- NOT the first time I’ve heard about stuff like that, dammit!
It’s time to start another SERIES!
I lean towards “stowed” instead of “racked” because I think like a squid, and racked means either “bed” (no not a hammock!) or the working of a weapon’s action.
I left active Navy at the eight year point in 1981, and the Reserves was filled with what I would charitably say was neither the best, nor the brightest.
During the next few years, I saw a large amount of folks forced out for being over aged in grade, or useless.
Every military unit has the occasional POS.
Keep listening to your Muse!
I agree that “racked” is ambiguous and not the best word. You can rack a lever action or a pump shotgun and then put it in the rack. At the start of a story you are lulling and beguiling the reader, gently sucking them into your parallel world. Words like “rack” where and how you use it are jarring. It is making your reader work too hard before they are committed to the story.
LL- LOL, I’m NOT John Van Stry!
John- Good point, but they’re ‘army’ types.
I liked the snippet.
Only two related small concerns, easily addressed:
“I figured you’d get plenty the way the opord was laid out.”
1) opord -> OPORD.
Footnote with expanded term.
2) OPFOR
Footnote with expanded term.
Ag- Good points. I’ll fix those.
Are you absolutely sure you want to go with “Morgan” and “London”?
Just asking.
LSP- Those are the ‘random’ names that popped up… why?