Page 95 of Brighter Shades of Light
In summer, the heat could melt your face right off, or at least, that’s what it felt like. But in the winter? It didn’t seem like you could wear enough layers. Just a bitter cold that numbed your face and made your nose run, the snot freezing like a goddamn icicle hanging from your nostril.
I wasn’t sure which was worse.
“We’re gonna die out here.” Tristen shifted his weight to his other foot and adjusted the rifle on his arm. “We’ll be like that dude at the end ofThe Shining, frozen in the snow.”
“Better than quitting,” I said, bouncing a little on my heels. Moving around helped keep me warm. “Man, we’re so damn close. Just gotta pass this exercise and then we get to choose our MOS.”
MOS was our military occupational specialty. It was what we focused on once joining the Corps.
“You’re going with combat engineering, yeah?” Tristen glanced at me, and I nodded. “You’ll be in the line of fire a lot, dude, plus be blown up if you aren’t careful. Are you sure?”
“Every position is dangerous, Tristen. We’re Marines. This is what we do. If it was easy, everyone could do it.” I waved a hand to the dark woods around our camp. “It’s why they do this shit to us. To prepare us for the real world. They want us to fuck up here, so we don’t fuck up out there. We’re cold, tired, hungry, and mentally worn down, but we gotta keep going.”
Tristen stayed quiet.
“I miss October,” I said. “Land navigation drills weren’t bad, and the weather didn’t freeze your balls off.”
“Night land navigation has always sucked, though,” he said, shivering.
“Nah, it’s like a grownup treasure hunt.”
“Yeah, one rigged with explosives if you fucked up.”
My face was so damn numb I couldn’t tell if I was smiling or not.
As we kept watch, my mind wandered.
Training had been difficult over the months, but the mental aspect was what surprised me most. During one of the squad tactics, we were placed in a group of ten or so people and did live fire exercises, which involved M16 and M4 assault rifles, grenade launchers, and M249 automatic weapons.
I would never forget the first time one of the targets was shaped like a person. Up until that point, the targets had been some bullshit object, but a person? It put shit into perspective real fast. What was even more unsettling was how easy it became to shoot them and not think twice about it.
“Have you thought about your MOS?” I asked Tristen. I was dog tired and felt my eyelids closing. Talking would help me stay awake.
“Not really. I mean, I’ve thought about it, but I don’t know. I’d like to work on ships. Sometimes I wonder if I would’ve been better in the Navy.”
Snap.
Tristen and I exchanged a look before staring out into the trees, readying our weapons. We had real rifles, but they shot blanks instead of actual bullets. But fuck if it still didn’t send my heart racing. Each second that passed seemed like it lasted hours as we waited for another sound, searching the darkness for any signs of movement.
Nothing else happened.
“It must’ve been an animal,” Tristen said, sounding relieved.
The snow continued to fall long past the time we were relieved of our watch and were able to crawl into our sleeping bags. We weren’t even given the luxury of a tent, just sleeping on the cold, hard ground. In the fucking snow.
When I woke the next morning, I lay in my sleeping bag and listened to how quiet the woods were around us. My nose was frozen, and my head felt like something had slammed into it over and over again. The quiet reminded me of Sebastian. He would love something like this—not the training, but going somewhere for a few days, away from everyone.
The Marine Corps Ball was a month ago, and I hadn’t been able to see him since then. It would be one hell of a homecoming once I was able to, though. The thought helped push me up to my feet.
Another day of this shit. Then more after that.
When I stood up and surveyed the area, I couldn’t even see the ground. Just blankets of snow, weighing down the tree branches and covering every inch of the grass and dirt.
Unlike the other exercises, The War had little to no instructor interference. They wanted to see how we reacted on our own and how we worked out tactical problems when given certain objectives. The only time we really saw them was when they came to give orders. Throughout the week, each member of the platoon was given the chance to demonstrate their skills by being assigned as billet holder.
I had my turn two days ago. Today was Tristen’s turn.
“Fucking perfect,” Tristen said, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Navigating in the goddamn snow will be interesting.”
