Journals of a Marine
He stood and hugged his family and his love before he stepped up into the Greyhound bus bound for Parris Island USMC training center. He really had nothing to do during the seven hour ride (not including stops elsewhere to pick up other recruits) until the Gray wolf had gotten onto the bus. Looking around for seats, being denied by the people he asked, the Wolf eventually made it to Lewis's seat.
"Hey, By any chance is this seat not under fascist control?" the Wolf asked
"Shut the fuck up and sit the hell down!" the driver yelled as he shoved the gas pedal down throwing the Wolf into the seat.
"According to the bus driver, no." Lewis replied to the Wolf recruits original query. The Wolf just laughed. "Since you have been oh so rudely forced into this seat, whats your name?"
"Drake" he replied "Like the explorer ya know, Nathan Drake?" Lewis stumbled around in his mind trying to find that particular history lesson. "And since you now know my name, Who in the hell are you?" Drake asked jokingly.
"Lewis Kingston, former High School student, turned recruit." "Ha, same here, What town are you from?"
"Boston." Lewis replied. The bus ground to a halt, and the doors opened to permit a Drill Instructor to board the bus, in tan uniform and campaign hat, screaming instructions. He seemed to favor tormenting a small red fox near the front of the bus.
"You little runt, Get outta this bus and set your feet on one of them painted footprints there, specifically because you don't have enough brain power to stand in formation alone." The fox practically ran out to the footprints and just stood there and set his bag next to him. The DI went out immediately after him and started screaming unintelligible orders at the fox who looked confused. The Instructor reared back, and hit him in the gut with his baton, Which caused the little fox to doufle over, while the DI bent over him and continued to scream. He kicked the leather case next to the fox a good twenty feet before it impacted the ground split in two and spewed forth what little clothes the fox had brought. The fox eventually got the point and stood an perfect attention, with the exception of tears running down his fur, which apparently wasn't good enough for the DI because he hit the fox a second time in the gut, making him stand straighter. The DI screamed at him again and then sharply strode back to the bus. "Now you worthless bunch of Maggot's do exactly the same as he does, or I will have you writhing on the ground in agony doing five hundred pushups, and I do not care how long it takes!" The rest of us streamed out of the Greyhound and lined up on the footprints. The DI came to Lewis and Drake, hitting them both, it seemed, as hard as he could. Lewis didn't have the fur to absorb the shock. His skin grew from a tan, to a pale white as he attempted to suck in air while still at attention. He was finally able ro releive the pain when the DI called out 'dismissed' but his abs still hurt like a bitch. The Wolf came to his side.
"Are you OK man?" Drake asked "That asshole hit ya a good one didn't he"
"I'll be fine" Lewis answered back. He straightened out and waited in line with Drake to get his PT clothes, sleep clothes, and recruit BDU's. When they had everything, the DI announced a five mile run, with a chorus of chants.
"This is gonna be hell..." Drake advised as the duo began their run.
The next three weeks were hell for Lewis and Drake, respectively. Lewis had difficulty with the physical things, while Drake had difficulty on the Range. He was physically too large for the M16A2's they had been given, and had been assigned the role of SAW gunner, and his A2 was replaced with an M249 Squad Automatic Weapon. Lewis however showed proficiency in marksmanship, scoring a %92 on his Marksmanship tests. His A2 was replaced with an M16A4 Flat top with an attached Zeiss scope which rose his scores to a %98.7 on his next test. Drake was doing excellent as a SAW gunner by the time the pair left basic and proceeded to advanced training. There He and Lewis Earned medals for Pistol Marksmanship, and Grenadiering. Eventually the both wound up in the same Bunk bed in Camp Lejeune. "How in the fuck exactly have we been in the Marine Corps for four months and not gotten a single day of leave?" Drake complained.
"Who knows, The Corps works in Mysterious ways" Lewis said, pronouncing the last bit in his best spooky voice.
"Whatever, I'm gonna Go and check with the LT and see if I can get some off base leave, You're gonna have to fend for yourself when it comes to leave, Meanwhile i'm gonna find me a nice pretty lady and see what I get" Drake said his brows bouncing in sarcasm.
"Go ahead, I'd rather sleep." Lewis actually wanted to go, if only to get to his girlfreind. He wasn's anywhere near where he needed to be rankwise to earn enough to get to her though. With that thought, he drifted back into sleep.
Two month's later, their unit received deployment orders. The small sheet of printer paper was announced by their Sargeant, a heavily built African American man by the name of John Redford. There was lots of moaning and groaning about the fact that they had been told to go to Bumfuck nowhere, Afghanistan, but eventually they got their things together over the next week. He didn't see any sign of the wolf for several days, before he showed up in his bunk early one evening, battered and beaten. When Lewis asked him what had happened, his reply was only 'Apparently she had a guy freind'. They boarded the C-17 Globemaster III the next day in full gear and packs for the several hour ride to Bagram. On the plane they saw a few familiar faces, including the little fox, who was now oddly similar looking to Billy Badass. Lewis and Drake eventually got bored enough to where they disassembled the M16A4 and Drakes SAW to see if there was any parts commonality. Interestingly enough, for guns that fired the same exact round, there was no swappable parts. Lewis caused enough grief for Redford, that he was probably the first man in his unit to do a hundred pushups on an Airplane. He got quite a bit of snickering from the rest of his Unit, at which he stuck his tongue out in a fit of immaturity. The largely anthro unit stuck their tongues back out at him to which Lewis replies "Your all gonna make some women reeeeaaaal happy one day" receiving a chorus of 'Once a Marine, Always a pervert' from the men. He set foot on the sand and looked around.