Chapter 18: Bootcamp

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Early in the morning, long before the sun crested the horizon, the wakeup call sounded through the training camp. Bugles blared across Camp Sill in Lawton, Oklahoma, rousing the new recruits from slumber in their barracks. They were still in the first week of training, and many of them were still struggling to adjust to the strict Army regiment. First out of bed was Robert, who was used to this behaviour, having grown up on a farm and trained for various sports. Many of the other new recruits struggled to even get out of bed. The barracks was filled with people whose eyes were red and bloodshot and barely open.

Richter was one of the many who struggled. Growing up under the Myers roof had instilled the man with discipline, but sleeping in had still been allowed.

Recruits began stripping down and getting into their physical training gear. PT was the first hour of the daily regimen. Robert approached Richter in an effort to help to wake up. A cup of steaming hot coffee woke the young man up, and his eyes widened with the anticipation of caffeine.

"Come on, battle buddy, get up. We got to get out there for PT."

Many of the recruits were already beginning their morning regiment. Sitting up, Richter felt his eyelids weighed down and struggled to keep them open. Sipping the hot coffee and feeling the caffeine kick in widened his eyes. Looking at the time woke Richter up. There wasn't a lot of time, and regulations required every man shave.

Trying to catch up caused Richter to cut his face, and the blood ran down his cheek, mixing with water. George had signed up with his friend and looked over, trying not to smirk. Several others from Richter's neighbourhood had joined, as well, and they were all gathered around George, smirking and joking about their friend. Everyone began exiting the barracks. Richter was the last one out the door.

PT training was easy for Robert because of the excellent shape he was in. Basic calisthenics designed to stretch muscles, warm up, and build body strength. Following calisthenics, the entire company went on a fifty-minute run. Many of the new recruits struggled along the run. Robert hung back to help the stragglers. When the company returned to camp for breakfast, most of the recruits were beyond exhausted. Entering the Mess Hall, Richter saw his friend Robert standing at the back of the line and headed over.

"Damn, man, I wish I was in your shape."

Robert turned to see his friend still winded from the run. All the times that Colt had told his boys that they would appreciate his prodding one day leapt to mind. Looking at Richter, it was evident how hard the training was on him, and seeing it made Robert appreciate everything his father had done. The old man was right in the end, and he chuckled in the sanctuary of his own mind.

"If you want, you can go live with my dad. You think this is tough?" Robert saw his friend cracking a smile at the joke, but his eyes tried to hide the pain gnawing at him inside. Growing up without a father was hard on any child. Not even knowing who your father was could be devastating to a young man. Richter had loved his mother too much to ask the question, and, now, there would never be an opportunity.

"Well, you lucked out, having a dad around," Richter moaned. Energy shot through Robert's nerves, causing him to cringe at the thought. Colt had prepared his boy well for life, but it wasn't without a price. Seeing the reaction, Richter felt bad for saying that. "I'm sorry, man. Personal issues. Sometimes I don't know when to shut up."

Recruits filled the Mess Hall with the sounds of utensils scraping every piece of food off their trays. Everyone was starving, and it seemed like there was never enough food. Every person only got enough to quiet his or her hunger. Both men took their food and headed to an empty seat. George stared across the Mess Hall and wondered why his friend would sit with someone else. Feeling the glare, Robert turned and caught George looking away, trying not to be spotted.

"I think your friend is upset you're not eating with him."

Looking over, Richter saw George and his neighbourhood friends laughing.

"He's always been popular. Besides, who would keep you company if I didn't?"

Many of the recruits came from underprivileged families. The military was the only option for survival for many people. On the first day, the drill instructor had berated Robert for being a soft rich kid. Rumours had spread across the camp like wildfire. Many of the recruits refused to talk to Robert at all. Only Richter had made an attempt to befriend Robert. The battle buddy system ensured that even if the two didn't like it, they all had to work together.

"Don't worry what anyone else thinks, man. I have to admit I am curious why you signed up since you come from a good family."

Putting the utensils down for a moment, Robert looked across the table.

"My father was in the military, and he wanted me to join."

Richter could understand that. Every kid who loved their parents wanted to make them proud. The thought occurred to Richter that his mother had been fond of the military, and, for a moment, he wondered if she'd be proud. The realities of the situation had left him no other option, regardless.

"Hey, I didn't have a choice, either, so we're in the same boat. My mom was killed in the massacre in front of the Plaza in New York. Without her, I just kind of drifted and started making really bad choices. I spent most of the money I received, and, well, this was my only opportunity."

Hearing about the tragedy brought back Robert's memory of watching Julia's abduction. Robert lost his appetite and pushed the plate away.

"I lost someone that night, too, and I don't know if she's dead or alive."

Empathy rushed through Richter.

Robert tried to hide his feelings, but it was written all over his face how much it hurt him. Memories of the kiss in Julia's room should have brought joy. In that moment, New Year's Eve had seemed to have ushered in Robert's greatest desire. Just like that, Julia was gone, and there was nothing anyone could do. Even the great Henry Williams had been unable to protect his own daughter. It seemed like a different life to Robert, despite the short time since the event.

Richter could see the pain written on his new friend's face. Tears began welling up in Robert's eyes from the rush of memories, but he refused to allow the emotions out. Richter tapped his buddy on the shoulder, trying to catch his attention. Pulled from the memories, Robert closed his eyes, trying to force the tears back. Richter could see the same pain in Robert that he felt whenever he thought about his mom.

"Don't give up hope, man. I've been there, and feeling hopeless doesn't help." Robert tried to focus on the hope that Julia was still alive.

"There is nothing worse than watching someone you love get snatched from you when you're powerless to stop them. That's the real reason I am here, Richter. I promised myself I would never be powerless to protect the people I love ever again." Robert had turned his sadness to anger. Anger could bring clarity on the rare occasion. Colt's words of advice repeated in the young man's mind.

With a smile, Richter pushed the plate back to his new friend.

"Eat up, buddy. You're going to need all the energy you can get. We'll watch each other's backs and get through this. Battle buddies right?"

Robert tried to muster a smile in return for the gesture. Hearing the story reminded Richter of why he had signed up.

Henry Williams and Muse had lived up to their promises. Richter's lawyers had locked away most of the money he had received. Playing the broke peasant was a tactic to keep the parasites away. When people in the neighbourhood heard about the money, everything changed. Out of nowhere, new friends popped up. It was as if Richter had friends he never even knew existed before. Everyone had a sob story. Richter couldn't stand to hear any more tragedy and heartbreak and had concocted the lie.

George had convinced Richter to join the military to get away, but Richter hadn't joined to get away, but to ensure he could get vengeance one day on the person responsible for the massacre. No cost was too high in the pursuit of vengeance. Every time things got too tough, Richter would summon the desire for vengeance to push through it. The military would provide the training necessary to ensure that if an opportunity for vengeance arrived, it wouldn't be wasted. At worst, it was a place to live and three square meals.


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