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Authors: Gavin E Parker
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waited. “The warrior
prepares for war. You will remain here on a training and preparedness
detail, and you will remain sharp, and you will remain frosty.”
The group
shuffled just a little and a commander near the front offered a very pensive,
“Sir?”
Connor
snapped his head in the commander’s direction. “What is it, Commander?”
“Does this
mean we’re not going to Dubai?”
Connor
returned his address to the floating phantom. “The end of hostilities has
rendered some of our planned postings obsolete. We are no longer required
in Dubai, that detail is scratched. The corps requires you here until
further notice, sharp and frosty. That is all.” He turned on his
heel and left.
Shoulders
slumped all round and the soldiers slouched back to their bunks, the low murmur
of their grumbling punctuated by a fist punching a locker.
“I knew it,”
Johnson said, “I knew we’d never get to Dubai. Goddamn, why’d they have
to end the damn war just when we was being sent someplace good?”
“At least we
got a thank you for winning the war,” Foley offered.
“Tell that to
Hughes,” said Steiner.
In the mess
hall Foley was chowing down with Steiner and Johnson. Foley was a slow
eater and Johnson, for all his bulk, ate as daintily as a vicar’s wife.
Steiner, the smallest of the three, ate like someone was going to steal his
food. Or at least he used to.
“Where’s your
appetite, Steiner?” said Foley.
Steiner
shrugged, “I’m just not too hungry, I guess.” He pushed some food around
his plate and took a small forkful.
“You need to
eat. The corps needs you sharp and frosty , amiright ?”
Steiner
rolled his eyes.
“ I need
you sharp and frosty ,” Foley continued his mocking impression of Connor.
“ Mrs Connor
needs you sharp and frosty .”
Johnson
laughed. “Goddamn that son of a bitch,” he said. “He thinks he’s a
hard-ass with that stupid shaving cut on his face. He should have
spent some time with us on the ground, getting shot at.”
“ I thank
you for winning the war for me ,” Foley continued in the too loud voice.
“ Mrs Connor thanks you for winning the war for me .”
The three of
them cracked up at the line.
“At least he
had the good grace to thank us,” said Foley. “I wanted to thank him for
taking aerial pleasure trips eight klicks back from where the action was and
staying the hell out of my way while I won the war for him,” he sputtered
between laughs.
Steiner
pushed his plate away.
“Seriously,
you need to eat, man. Are you okay?” said Johnson.
Steiner held
his hands up. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just not hungry today,” he said.
Johnson and
Foley exchanged glances. “You need to eat, buddy. Your body needs
it,” Johnson said, but Steiner just shrugged and shook his head.
Foley and
Johnson had been concerned about Steiner since he returned to the company
following the incident with Hughes. He had spent a week in a field
hospital and had then been rotated back home for three weeks of rest and
recuperation. When he returned he seemed to be a changed man. He
wasn’t the same Steiner who had left. It was little things. He
didn’t pick up on any of the running jokes they shared, and he didn’t seem to
remember some of the things they had experienced together. When Foley
asked him, “Hey, buddy, have you got that fifty bucks you owe me?” Steiner had
paid up on the spot, rather than making the customary reply, “No, I gave it to
your mum last night. I gave her the fifty bucks, too.” Foley and
Johnson had been concerned that the brain injury Steiner had received had been
more serious than had first been suspected, or that he was depressed or had
PTSD or something similar. He had been passed fit for duty, though by the
time he was back in the unit they never saw another shot fired in anger.
Still, they worried about him. He was one of their own.
“So the
glorious
prepares for war. You will remain here on a training and preparedness
detail, and you will remain sharp, and you will remain frosty.”
The group
shuffled just a little and a commander near the front offered a very pensive,
“Sir?”
Connor
snapped his head in the commander’s direction. “What is it, Commander?”
“Does this
mean we’re not going to Dubai?”
Connor
returned his address to the floating phantom. “The end of hostilities has
rendered some of our planned postings obsolete. We are no longer required
in Dubai, that detail is scratched. The corps requires you here until
further notice, sharp and frosty. That is all.” He turned on his
heel and left.
Shoulders
slumped all round and the soldiers slouched back to their bunks, the low murmur
of their grumbling punctuated by a fist punching a locker.
“I knew it,”
Johnson said, “I knew we’d never get to Dubai. Goddamn, why’d they have
to end the damn war just when we was being sent someplace good?”
“At least we
got a thank you for winning the war,” Foley offered.
“Tell that to
Hughes,” said Steiner.
In the mess
hall Foley was chowing down with Steiner and Johnson. Foley was a slow
eater and Johnson, for all his bulk, ate as daintily as a vicar’s wife.
Steiner, the smallest of the three, ate like someone was going to steal his
food. Or at least he used to.
“Where’s your
appetite, Steiner?” said Foley.
Steiner
shrugged, “I’m just not too hungry, I guess.” He pushed some food around
his plate and took a small forkful.
“You need to
eat. The corps needs you sharp and frosty , amiright ?”
Steiner
rolled his eyes.
“ I need
you sharp and frosty ,” Foley continued his mocking impression of Connor.
“ Mrs Connor
needs you sharp and frosty .”
Johnson
laughed. “Goddamn that son of a bitch,” he said. “He thinks he’s a
hard-ass with that stupid shaving cut on his face. He should have
spent some time with us on the ground, getting shot at.”
“ I thank
you for winning the war for me ,” Foley continued in the too loud voice.
“ Mrs Connor thanks you for winning the war for me .”
The three of
them cracked up at the line.
“At least he
had the good grace to thank us,” said Foley. “I wanted to thank him for
taking aerial pleasure trips eight klicks back from where the action was and
staying the hell out of my way while I won the war for him,” he sputtered
between laughs.
Steiner
pushed his plate away.
“Seriously,
you need to eat, man. Are you okay?” said Johnson.
Steiner held
his hands up. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Just not hungry today,” he said.
Johnson and
Foley exchanged glances. “You need to eat, buddy. Your body needs
it,” Johnson said, but Steiner just shrugged and shook his head.
Foley and
Johnson had been concerned about Steiner since he returned to the company
following the incident with Hughes. He had spent a week in a field
hospital and had then been rotated back home for three weeks of rest and
recuperation. When he returned he seemed to be a changed man. He
wasn’t the same Steiner who had left. It was little things. He
didn’t pick up on any of the running jokes they shared, and he didn’t seem to
remember some of the things they had experienced together. When Foley
asked him, “Hey, buddy, have you got that fifty bucks you owe me?” Steiner had
paid up on the spot, rather than making the customary reply, “No, I gave it to
your mum last night. I gave her the fifty bucks, too.” Foley and
Johnson had been concerned that the brain injury Steiner had received had been
more serious than had first been suspected, or that he was depressed or had
PTSD or something similar. He had been passed fit for duty, though by the
time he was back in the unit they never saw another shot fired in anger.
Still, they worried about him. He was one of their own.
“So the
glorious
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