Page 29 of Love Under Siege

As the bus falls into silence, my thoughts drift back to Anya. She sounded okay over the phone, but I can't help but worry if she's really doing alright. It's frustrating not knowing what's happening with her stalker, and even more frustrating that I can't be there for her. I know she's strong and capable of taking care of herself, but the thought of something bad happening to her while I'm away makes me anxious. I want to be able to write a response to her letter, but I am too nervous to move, in fear of getting yelled at. So instead, I decide to rest my eyes until we reach our destination. After a long nap, Damien wakes me up with a nudge and I realize we're about to enter the base. We breeze through the checkpoint and once we're parked, the drill sergeant yells that we have two minutes to grab our bags and get off the bus.

We are organized into formation and another drill sergeant briefs us on the different types of personnel we will encounter: drill sergeants, easily identifiable by their distinctive headwear; cadre members, military personnel not serving as drill sergeants; and civilian staff members who assist with processing procedures. Then, he goes over the various positions we need to know, such as attention, parade rest, and at ease. These are skills I already learned before enlisting, but for many of the younger trainees, this is likely their first time learning them.

The group is then divided into two, separating females and males. A tall drill sergeant enters between the two groups and starts barking orders. "I am Drill Sergeant Dawson!" he shouts. "Raise your left arm in front of you without touching the person to your front! If you're touching them, take a step back while keeping your arm up! Is that clear?"

"Yes, Drill Sergeant!" the group responds in unison.

"Men turn and face your left, women turn and face your right! Stand at attention! Time fucking now!" Drill Sergeant Dawson's voice booms.

I face my left and hold myself still at attention, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as the drill sergeant continues to shout commands.

"Already failing to follow orders, and you just got here!" Drill Sgt Dawson yells.

Nervously, I try to think about what we did wrong. I followed every command given, but maybe someone else didn't. My stomach churns as I wait for punishment to be handed out.

"You were ordered to get off the bus within two minutes! It took you all two minutes and 12 seconds! When given an order, you are expected to follow it TO..THE..LETTER! IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?!" he roars.

"Yes, Drill Sergeant!" we reply in unison.

"Get down in a push-up position! This is what we call 'Front leaning rest position' and this is where you should be when we say 'front leaning rest position, move! You do not move until told to move! YOU DO NOT STOP UNTIL TOLD TO STOP! Understood?!" Drill Sgt Dawson demands.

"Yes, Drill Sergeant!"

"Now move!" he orders sharply and I immediately start doing push-ups. My time working on the farm gives me an advantage with my upper body strength, so I complete each push-up with ease. But as Drill Sergeant Dawson continues to bark instructions, my arms start to tire but I push through.

"On your feet!" Drill Sgt instructs and we all stand up, dusting ourselves off.

"Did I tell you to dust yourselves off?! Front leaning rest position, move!" he commands and we quickly get back into position. We hold this position for what feels like an eternity and my arms begin to shake from exhaustion.

"MOVE!" Drill Sergeant finally says and we start doing more push-ups. My arms quiver with each repetition, but I will myself to keep going. For a brief moment, I think about Anya and the fear she must be experiencing as well as my desire to seek revenge on whoever is scaring her. This gives me a surge of adrenaline that helps me push through the pain. Eventually, we are told to stand back up and this time, no one tries to dust themselves off.

"Now you understand that you only move WHEN WE TELL YOU TO MOVE and ONLY when we tell you to move!" Drill Sergeant Dawson bellows. We respond with a "Yes, Drill Sergeant!" before he continues explaining what comes next.

We are then directed to the in-processing center where we receive information about our necessary gear and uniforms. After a presentation, we are guided through obtaining everything we need.

The process was straightforward, but with the high volume of recruits going through in-processing, it was moving at a snail's pace. Our instructions were to move quickly through each area, but it felt like we were just rushing to wait. It was a perfect example of the "hurry up and wait" mentality that I had often heard described about the military.

After receiving our equipment, we are herded off to a barracks, our home for the next few days until we are assigned to a training battalion. Drill Sergeant Dawson directs us into a large room. Along the edge of the room sits dozens of bunk beds forming a U shape. Between the bunk beds and the center of the room are lockers for us to store our gear and luggage.

“You will NOT leave ANY of your gear unsecured in my bay, do you get me?!”

“Yes drill sergeant!” We call out, our roar in unison filling the room to an almost deafening level.

“Stow your gear and get some shut eye. It’s 0200 and lights on is at 0500. Don’t let me catch a single one of you on your phones unless you want to see it thrown out the god damn window, huah?”

No phones at all? Well, I was told to expect that but it is clear the memo was not received by everyone, and those who had spent most of their formative years with a phone in their hands had the look of outright mutiny. Thankfully, after the last few hours, it was clear to all that right now discretion was the better part of valor. After Drill Sergeant Dawson left, we all started to find their own spots and most immediately started to collapse on their bunks. Some of the most important tips I had been told was 1. Sleep when you can, and 2. Eat as much as you can to replace the calories you aredefinitelygoing to be burning.

As I lay my head upon the pillow and slowly feel sleep come over me, my thoughts linger to Anya, how she is feeling, and I begin to feel my heart ache as I long for her. I don’t know how I will be able to spend the next few months without her touch, without her scent, but I do know that it will all be worth it when I see her again.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Anya

As soon as I hang up the phone with Jacob, I feel a wave of relief that he arrived safely. But I desperately want to tell him about everything that has happened since he left. I want to share what I discovered when I returned home. But deep down, I know it would only distract him from his training. I can't be the reason for his loss of focus, and now I regret even telling him about the stalker in the first place. Well, part of me does. The other part is grateful to have someone besides Lana to confide in. However, Lana refuses to leave my side. It's touching, but also makes me feel guilty for putting her life on hold like this. I try to push these thoughts aside and continue with my day. But Lana continues to wander around the house, constantly checking and rechecking the doors and windows. Every so often, she peers out the front windows onto the lawn.

"Lana, will you please sit down and relax?" I say exasperated and slightly annoyed.

"I'm just making sure everything is secure outside. You can never be too careful," she replies without even looking at me.

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