“Lance Corporal Logan M. McCarthy,” stated his company first sergeant in a loud rehearsed voice while projecting in the company formation. “Is now promoted to Corporal.”
Logan stood at the position of attention in front of his company and platoon, facing his commander and first sergeant. He zoned out just enough to not be listening, but listening enough to give the right response when asked.
“Who do you want to promote you?” asked his commander softly so the three of them could hear.
The two superiors, now peers, came forward, saluted their commander, and pinned Logan’s new rank before saluting again and heading back to their spots in the formation. The first sergeant handed the promotion warrant to the captain. In turn he handed it to Logan flat. He gripped it with his left hand leaving his right to shake his commander’s hand underneath as was customary.
“Congrats, Corporal,” the commander said, giving Logan a very slight grin that was almost imperceivable.
“Thank you sir,” Logan replied, forcing himself to not give a nod in response returning to a position of attention.
The first sergeant stepped in front of him next. Placing a pair of red ribbons around his neck letting them hang loosely on either side of the front.
“These stripes prove that you can be a leader two,” commented the first sergeant. “First, to yourself when you put on your uniform. The second is harder because you need to fill the shoes of your predecessors. All anyone can ask is you do your best. We all know the drill: improvise, adapt, overcome.”
Logan knew that his first sergeant was trying to and to the dopamine hit of getting promoted to a higher rank. Unfortunately, the words spoken to him sounded rehearsed.
The first sergeant held out his hand for Logan to shake. Logan shook it, before he moved back to his place next to the commander.
Simple drill commands were given to Logan for him to take his place behind the company sized formation. When Logan stopped and was facing the command he could hear the next orders.
“Company on my command,” yelled out the commander. “Give your congratulations to this marine and his promotion. Platoon leaders with your platoons commence the rest of your promotions.”
All five hundred bodies stood at baited breath waiting for the command they had been waiting for.
“Dismissed,” finished the commander.
Everyone relaxed as much as they could, only gaining a few steps before almost bumping into the person that was originally behind them was now in front.
Logan stayed in place as many people immediately congratulated him.
Many of the Corporals and Sergeants pressed his rank into his collar bone while the turtlebacks of his new rank were still off.
“Congrats, Corporal,” said one of the few females in the company.
“Thanks O’Merrick,”
Private First Class Danielle “Dani” O’Merrick was only a few inches shorter than Logan’s six foot height. They had met in the schoolhouse for their occupational specialty in diesel automotive technician training. O’Merrick at the time had still been green behind the ears from the infantry training facility on a back down the road. They had some conversations in the communal smoke pit for where incoming students and currents for motor transport techs and embarkers lived.
Logan at the time had been playing cards while planning to get tattoos at one of the local shops and had invited her seeing she was out of her depth. He only had a few weeks left before he left for his unit, or so he thought. He was there for an additional three weeks due to his orders being rescinded and changed to his current unit. In the meantime, O’Merrick and Logan had become close friends.
She would’ve been promoted to Corporal if a multitude of reasons did not happen such as getting a non-judicial punishment (NJP). It wasn’t one of her proudest moments. Given the laws that govern the United States and the zero tolerance policy that the Marine Corps has she had be charged drunken disorderly and drinking under age resulting her to get a promotion to a lesser rank, forty-five days restricted to quarters with the exception of work, forty-five days extra punitive duties, and two months of half pay. Along with that was a six months added to her getting to her previous rank. Not expecting to see it for a year and a half.
“Don’t worry O’Merrick,” he said slightly teasing. “I’m sure you’re gonna catch up.”
…
“Don’t worry O’Merrick,” McCarthy said slightly teasing. “I’m sure you’re gonna catch up.”
Dani didn’t know what he meant. It was possible that he knew something she didn’t. However, she put that to the side.
She made her way to the open bay doors to where their platoon called home.
After a good portion of the lower enlisted that were not corporals and higher in rank one of the newer sergeants called out a list of names; One of which was Dani’s. That wasn’t as surprising as being asked if she had the chevrons for the rank of Lance Corporal. Like a few others who had not expected to be promoted she asked to run to her barracks room to grab the rank insignia.
After everyone was fully present or accounted for, the platoon made another formation for the promotion for the people being promoted to lance corporal and private first class.
This promotion ceremony was a bit longer with seven promotions all together, but it was more efficient calling out all the names in order for each rank.
After the logistics of the ceremony was played out and everyone was congratulated, it was time to be released for the weekend.
“Alright, killers gather round,” called out the platoon commander. “I know you are all itching to get out of her. So I am gonna try to make this short and sweet.”
Everyone in the formation knew that probably wasn’t true and groaned to themselves.
“This weekend's safety brief: Don’t add to the population, don’t subtract from the population. Stay out of the newspaper, hospitals, and jail. If you do go to jail, establish dominance quickly.” he said in one continuance breath. Taking a second breath before continuing. “We are all adults here. Do not beat your wife, husband, children or dog, if you beat anything it must be physically attached to you. Is that understood?”
A resounding “Yes sir,” was heard as it echoed inside the mechanic shop behind him.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Good.” he said, the weekend brief over to the staff non-commissioned officer in front of him. “Gunny, take it from here. Please just pass what I may have forgotten or what you may have planned.”
The gunnery sergeant saluted, before about facing to turn his back to the now walking away lieutenant.
…
“Man, what is it about people in the ranks of Staff NCO making long speeches?” Logan commented, as he sat down at a table in the chow hall Dani across from him.
“Lieutenant Owens didn’t and he is the platoon commander.” Dani pointed out.
“That is because he was a grunt in places like Iraq and Syria. Until a few years ago he was a Sergeant in the First MarDiv doing combat deployments before we decided to raise our right hand or go to college.”
First MarDiv, or First Marine Division as they knew it, is a multi-role combat force. Known as the Old Breed or the Blue Diamond. The unit that Dani and Logan were in was a small part of the First Expeditionary Force consisting of roughly 22,000 personnel.
“Well,” Dani said leaning back in her seat. “That explains a lot.”
Dani thought about what Logan told her. “Wait, how do you know that?”
Logan shrugged nonchalantly, “He mentioned when he came to the platoon as a quick informal meet-and-greet of the troops since we would be seeing his face a bit for the time he is in the company.” he explained.
“Sure,” Dani agreed with a shrug, since she hadn’t been there to scheduled leave at the time. “But, it is not like you read the man’s entire SRB tho.”
“You know I can’t. I think it was just his long way of saying that he is a mustang.”
Mustangs as most people believed were wild horses. In some circles that is true. In the context in referring to an officer, a mustang is a person who starts in the enlisted ranks eventually going through college completing the minimum degree requirement to go to Officer Candidate School (OCS). Eventually gaining a commission and earning the rank of 2nd Lieutenant.
“Besides, it was more like a brief overview,” Logan continued.
He got up from his seat, having finished his food. “I’m gonna take my uniforms to get altered, want to come?”
…
After Logan and Dani dropped their prospective uniforms at a dry cleaners. They arrived back at the barracks, each holding a six pack of beers.
“It’s good to finally be old enough to buy beer,” Dani commented, looking down at the pack of brews in her hand.
“I never quite liked that law myself considering who we are employed by,” Logan agreed. “I can see the point of view that some people have on it. I do think some exceptions should be made.”
“Exceptions are made. They are just not common knowledge.”
“Like what?”
“For one, Religion, Catholics generally drink wine every time they attend mass.” Dani noted. “Not saying that every practicing catholic does so.”
“Are you catholic?” Logan asked.
“No, my dad is a history teacher. I needed to do a project for the prohibition in his class.”
Logan knew her father was a sensitive subject. Dani had only spoken about him a few times. The first time was at a bar. They didn’t get the “hair of the dog” hangover remedy. Instead opting for water and really greasy burgers. Ever since her NJP, Dani slowed down on her drinking and stopped entirely while she was still under command restrictions. Logan slowed down to a point he mainly enjoyed a beer or two on the weekend or after a hard day.
They continued to chat as they made their way to one of the common areas. The common area was a room with a pool table and rough equipment to play, huddled in the corner. A flat screen hung on the wall. The remote was not in immediate sight.
“Okay, why do we have a tv but no remote?” Dani asked, looking at the small stand.
“It was damaged durin’ a niney-six,” Logan said in his more narual voice as the drinks he already lubbed his way of speech, sitting on one of the random air chair that furnished the room
A ninety-six like a seventy two was jargon for an extended weekend. Usually it was designated for holidays like Christmas or Thanksgiving. Depending on the holiday it would be one or the other for federally recognized holidays. Luckily, there is such a thing as unit discretion and commanders can make it possible to extend weekends.
“What was the occasion?” Dani asked, knowing that they didn’t have any holidays that would warrant an extended weekend.
“We had people come back from deployment.” Logan commented, picking a beer from a pack.
Logan’s attention was arrested from the bottle in his hand as he looked at Dani.
“Everything al’ight?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she said, rubbing at her nose. “Just a memory I didn’t want.”
He knew her enough to know she mostly likely didn’t want to talk about it, but he asked anyway.
She nodded in affirmation, moving another lounge chair so she could sit and face him.
“What is bothering you?” he asked, leaning forward.
“My dad,”
Logan leaned back surprised at the answer. “I thought you didn’t like him?” Logan commented, thinking back on many discussions they’ve had on the topic of their home lives before joining. “You at one point called him a….”
“I am aware, McCarthy,” Dani cut off. “I just wish I knew him before my mom split.”
Logan frowned. “I roughly understand my mom was the same way.”
“The sins of the parent often fall on the child.”
“Not always,” Logan countered.
He examined her, checking on her body language. Her baggy clothes hid her breathing. Her face was flushed from the drinks they had. Something told Logan that something wasn’t right. He couldn’t tell what it was yet, but he had that gut feeling.
“We should get you to your room,” Logan said.
Dani agreed knowing that she was probably drunk.
“At least we aren’t playing D&D or Warhammer or something.” Dani said jokingly as they got up and put the moved furniture back
“Do I sense a heretic in the presence of one of the emperor’s faithful?”
“Nah just a Bag of Holding.” Dani chuckled at his joke.
“It could always be worse.”
Dani looked at him as they walked down the catwalk.
“How?”
“We could be Space Marines.”
Dani knew that for the lore in the tabletop game of Warhammer that it was not possible for her to be a Space Marine. The closest she could get was a Sister of Battle. They were basically warrior nuns that were not genetically modified and experimented on like the other chapters of the lore in the game.
They stopped at Dani’s room. She took her key out and opened the door. Her roommate was absent, probably partying and celebrating with others on their promotions.
“See you tomorah,” Logan said, as he closed the door behind her.
…
“Where would I be if I could be anywhere?” she asked herself.
She thought about it for a second. Her thoughts drifted to not of a reality more akin to a homebrew Dungeons and Dragons game filled humanoid beings that weren’t human or looked human but were anything but.
Then she heard a voice that was from somewhere.
“Come children of conquest bred for…”
Dani looked around but saw no one.
Suddenly the room went black
…
Logan was laying in his bed watching a movie. It was one of those he had seen a number of times to the point he could quote certain parts. He was in the middle of doing that until, something made him stop and pause the movie.
“Come children of conquest…” said a dissemboddied voice.
“What the hell?” Logan said, feeling for the field knofe he kept in his nightstand.
The movie Logan had been watching had been in the fantasy genre. The voice coming from nowhere was new.
Come children of conquest bred for…”
Was the last thing Logan heard before falling in an abyss of black.
