A Soldier's Tale: Rainforest Wars

Chapter 1: Arrival
Michael Vallery clung to the plastic loops on the side of the Pelican's hull. He stood shoulder to shoulder with his fellow recruits-packed so close that he would've fallen out had he let go. He looked outside the open bay door, admiring the scenery. The roar of the Pelican's engines was deafening but the sound of his heart beating still rang clear.

Make me proud, I know you'll do what's right. This had been his mother's instruction on the day of his enlistment. Become the man your father and I always knew you were. And so here he was not too long after, standing in the bay of a Pelican. Michael enlisted as soon as he graduated from university with a bachelor's degree in English. He wanted to pursue the career of a lawyer, that was, until he read the newspaper one day. Earth was in disarray, as overpopulation and unrest mounted on Earth, a number of new political movements were formed, including the Koslovics and the Jovian Frieden movement, and UN-sponsored military forces began a pattern of massive buildups which culminated with the Interplanetary War. After a successful Marine attack on Mars, recruitment drives and propaganda tactics strongly bolstered UNSC forces. So he joined up at the age of 25, he left his previous life behind him, ready to fight for his family and friends-innocents whose lives the UNSC had convinced him were threatened by men inimical but otherwise identical to him. He was as ready as he ever could be. After some physical testing, Michael was informed that he was fit for duty and would have to go to his local military office to be shipped off to a training camp in South America. Where exactly in South America, he had no clue. At exactly 6:00 am in the morning, he was shipped off in a Pelican with some other hundred recruits.

"Touchdown in 5 minutes!" yelled the Army DI on the Pelican. Michael gripped the loops tighter, making his knuckles white. He looked around him, scanning the faces of his fellow recruits. All of them shared the same determined look on their faces. He wasn't the only one who was fighting for a greater good after all. "Touchdown! Down the ramp! Move it recruits double time! It wasn't long before more DI's appeared and started giving orders as soon as he got off the ramp.

"Recurits! You will make 7 equal-line rows, 15 recruits each." The DI waited for them to form the lines. "Alright listen up recruits. You have come here to fight for a brighter future for humanity. But before you fight, you must be trained. That training, will be supervised by me. I am First Sergeant Simon Juarez, and these, are your drill instructors. You will do exactly as we tell you at all times without question. From now on, your fellow recruits will be your family, this training camp will be your home. Cherish these things, protect and fight alongside one another. For your life will depend on how well your fellow soldier fights and his life with depend on how well you fight. Starting from now, you will start and end your sentences with the word "sir" when either talking to me or anyone higher ranking than you. Do I make myself clear recruits?" "Sir! Yes sir!" "Wonderful, your drill instructors will show you around the training camp, then you are to proceed to the dining hall to eat. Fall out."

There was some confusion as the DI's started to gather and organize the recruits. After what seemed like an eternity, the DI's had finally concluded their tour of the camp. Dinner was modest, baked beans and potato salad. Michael wolfed it down as well as everybody else having missed their lunch during the tour. The DI's showed the recruits to their barracks and being too exhausted to do anything, Michael fell onto his bed and fell asleep.

Chapter 2: Boot
"GEEETTTTUUUPPP!" Michael groaned and slowly got up. He looked around and saw his fellow recruits were just as tired as he was. One recruit however, ignored the order and pulled the covers over himself. Juarez proceeded to throw a bucket of icy cold water on him then started to yell in his ear. "What do you think you're doing recruit? Did you hear what I said? Up! Which way is up son?"

"Sir, sorry sir. Replied the man groggily.

"What's that son? I can't hear you. Speak up!" Juarez yelled while smacking the recruit with his baton.

"Sir, I said sorry sir!" suddenly snapping to attention, eyes wide open, ever alert.

"That's more like it. Now to keep you up, I want you to run around the compound, twice. Baxter, make sure our recruit here does what he's told." The DI nodded and started to order and prod the recruit with his baton.

"You will all go shower and come back and change into these." He reached into a trunk in the corner of the barracks and pulled out a pair of matching olive drab sweats. Michael took a look and saw what was stencilled on the chest: Michael Vallery.

Michael tried walking but quickly received a smack in the back with a baton. "Come on son, we ain't got all day. I mean it! Go Go GO!" He reached with one hand to feel his back where he got hit, luckily, there wasn’t a bruise, but he didn’t look forward to getting smacked again so he ran. He stripped off his clothing and stepped underneath the sprinkler. It sprayed them with lukewarm soapy water then rinsed them with an icy cold spray.

He ran back to the barracks and put on some underwear, thick socks, his sweats and a pair of combat boots that fit his feet perfectly.

The sun wasn’t up yet and the air was cold. Michael took a long breath of the fresh humid air. The edge of the sky was indigo. The grass was wet with dew and the barracks were bustling with activity: soldiers on patrol, officers giving orders, jet engines roaring, and in the distance, the sound of small arms fire.

Juarez then started to give orders, ”Recruits, same drill as yesterday, 4 equal-line rows, 9 recruits each. But this time, I want it done faster.” The recruits paused for a moment then started to rearrange themselves. Those who didn’t attempt to organize themselves received blows from their DI’s. ”Straighten those lines recruits, I want a perfect rectangle. You know what a rectangle looks like? Take a step forward son.” Michael looked around and saw that he was talking to a man further down his row; the man took a step forward.

”Recruits, will be your morning routine for the following month you will spend with me. You will follow it each day without delay. Those who don’t arrive on time or give me attitude will receive one helluva punishment. From now on, you will gather here and put yourselves into formation at exactly 0530 hour sharp without my instruction. Do I make myself clear?” ”Sir, yes sir.” replied the recruits in unison.

”Good work. Ok, now for some morning exercises. Push ups, count off to one hundred. First recruit that gives up will have to run around the compound twice and return here to do an additional hundred.” Michael barely managed thirty before he realized that he was struggling to keep up. His body conflicted with his mind. ''Arrrgh, it’s too tiring, just a little rest. He won’t notice. NO! You want to run around the training compound? Not to mention the extra hundred push ups.''

Sweat started dripping off his body like rain and pounded the gravel below. His muscles ached and burned in protest with every rep. His hard panting was drowned out by the sound of other recruits heaving along with him. After they finished, Michael collapsed onto the gravel. He lay on his back gasping for air. He glanced over at Juarez hoping he was just as exhausted as they were. Instead, he regarded the debilitated recruits with disgust. ”Sit ups! Count off to one hundred.” There were several groans of protest but Juarez continued like a machine. Those who couldn’t keep up were forced to run around the compound.

After having gone through hell, Michael realized that if he didn’t adapt to the morning routine soon, he wouldn’t last the first week. ”Ok, take a break recruits. Get some breakfast, and then we go on a walk.” Some DI’s rolled out a cart filled with water bottles and disposable plates topped with scrambled eggs and bacon. Immediately, the recruits swarmed around the cart like moths attracted to light. ”Take it slow recruits. Or you’ll cramp.” Juarez warned. Not many recruits listened to him but Juarez didn’t seem to care. The recruits then started to talk between themselves.

Michael turned to the man closest to him who seemed to be of similar age. He read the name on the shirt: Thomas Reid. ”Hey, I’m Michael Vallery, it’s nice to meet you.” Michael offered him his hand. Thomas took it and gave it a firm squeeze.

”The pleasure is mine. The name’s Thomas Reid, but you can call me Tom.” “How old are you? I’m 25.” Michael inquired.

“Really? Me too.”

“You got the energy to talk? You got the energy to walk!” Juarez snapped. “Get some water. Suck it down. All I want to hear is the sound of hydration. Which—to be clear—sounds like ab-so-lutely nothing at all!

The “walk” turned out to be a ten kilometre walk through the rainforest. Several recruits toppled over and unloaded their breakfast onto the forest floor. Juarez, obviously annoyed at the fact that they stopped, turned around and started to yell. ”What did I tell you about breakfast recruits? If you can’t follow a simple order like that, I might decide to drill you until you follow orders properly. Get moving!” They walked in a double-file line with Juarez leading the way, cutting through the foliage with his machete. The rainforest was a mysterious yet loud place. There was sound everywhere made by creatures they could not see. The air was humid and sweat clung onto his skin causing some discomfort. Michael took this time to get to know his fellow recruits, starting with Tom.

”So Tom, what made you come and enlist?” Michael asked. Tom checked to see if Juarez was looking. ”The rainforest is too loud for him to hear our conversation.” Michael said, hoping to get Tom to talk to him. Tom looked at him at disbelief but responded anyway.

”That, my friend is a good question. Well my father was part of the UN-military, so was his father and his father before him. So, it was only fitting that I signed up as well and continued the family tradition. What about you?”

“Well, I feel like I need to do something about the conflict happening right now between the UN, Frieden and Koslovic forces. I was studying to be a lawyer, but I felt guilty that people were dying for a greater good and to achieve peace while I sat safely behind a desk in an office.”

“You studied to become a lawyer? Wow, I studied to become a doctor. I thought perhaps, I could help the wounded on the front lines.”

“Hmm, now I know whose name to call when I’m dying.”

They laughed. ”Stow it back there or I’ll stow it for you.” Juarez exclaimed having heard the laughter. Undiscouraged by Juarez’s order, they continued to converse quietly for the rest of the march.

When they got back, it was noon and Juarez dismissed them to the mess hall for lunch. ”You will meet me at the shooting range at exactly 1400 hour. Don’t be late.” He spun on his heel and headed towards his barracks. Lunch wasn’t anything Michael had expected. He expected lunch to be simple and modest like yesterday, but surprisingly, when he entered the mess hall. The cafeteria was open and it was similar to a buffet but with a good salad bar. Michael chose some roast turkey with prime ribs and poured himself some cream of mushroom soup accompanied with crackers and of course, some Caesar salad. He scanned the mess hall and found Tom sitting at a table along what he realized to be his fellow recruits that shared his barracks.

”Mind if I join you?”

“No of course not, sit on down.”

Michael scanned the table and decided to get to know the men in his platoon better. Robert Allis, age 19, came from a poor family. He joined the UN-military hoping to give his mother and younger sister a better life with the money he sent home. Though young, he takes things very seriously. Alan Harris, age 30, recently became a widower. His wife died in a car accident and was raised in an orphanage. With nothing to lose, he signed up with the UN-military. All he wants to do is to finish and go home. William Mundell, age 15, lied about his age to join the UN-military. He grew up admiring the soldiers on the front lines and dreamed of being able to fight and kill. He is very laid back and is more focused on spilling blood than helping the UN win the war. John McPherson, age 23, signed up because his brother was also part of the UN-military. He is quiet and talks only when he needs to. Daniel Jackson, age 20, a very religious man. He signed up because God told him to, very quiet and anti-social. Christopher Warner, age 24, has taken on multiple jobs and signed up with the UN-military for experience, a social and optimistic person. Henry Beck, age 22, signed up with the UN-military because he had nothing better to do, a real joker. Even though they were all tired from the morning routine, they talked and laughed like they had known each other for years. Soon, Michael thought, we will be brothers, brothers in arms.

At 1400 hour, the recruits gathered at the firing range. Juarez was already there with alongside several DI’s. He started to count off a list of names: ”Forsell, Jenkins, Lee, Jaggers, MacDonald, Johnson!” Six sets of shoulders set a little straighter. ”Says here you are the only ones that have handled weapons. Am I correct?”

”Sir, yes sir” replied the recruits obviously proud of their achievement. Fred Jaggers, snickered at the other thirty recruits at their inexperience. Some recruits faces flushed with embarrassment.

”Won’t be so funny when they’re standing behind you in a firefight Jaggers,” Juarez growled. Jagger’s laughter quickly died. ”Miller here will take you to the armory, Juarez gestured to the DI standing beside him. I want each of you to shoot and experiment with each weapon. Then tell Miller your preference. The rest of you, follow me.” Juarez led them to the very right of the firing range and told each of them to stand in a firing stall. ”In front of you, is a M6D Personal Defense Weapons System, or M6D for short. This is your standard issue sidearm. This weapon is now yours so memorize its serial number. Take good care of it, and don’t lose it. Keep track of every bullet you fire and how many magazines you receive. If you lose this weapon, you will be subject to a court martial.”

Michael examined the pistol and was surprised at the perfect balance of the weapon. It bore a large grip guard and had a chrome barrel. Juarez, with the help of the DI’s showed every recruit how to fire the sidearm. ” The M6D fires M225 SAP-HE, or Semi-Armor Piercing, High Explosive rounds from a 12-round magazine so expect high recoil. Hold the weapon tight or you might drop it.” Michael fired the weapon at a target. Although he expected high recoil, he didn’t think it would be as high as it was. The gun would’ve smacked him in the eye if he hadn’t held it tight. He braced himself and fired once more. After two magazines, he started to get a feel of the weapon and was able to fire it with moderate accuracy. Once they finished, Juarez led them to the armory and showed them the standard issue firearms.

Michael examined the weapons that were available and settled with the BR55HB SR Battle Rifle. A select-fire rifle that fires 3 round bursts. The UNSC employs the Battle Rifle as a medium-range marksman rifle; it fires new 9.5x40mm ammunition from a 36 round magazine. Once everyone had chosen their preference, they returned to the firing range to learn how to use their weapon. He took a glance at Tom and saw that he also taken a Battle Rifle. After Juarez told them that the weapon they had were now theirs to keep, he told them to leave them at the armory.

Michael reluctantly, left his weapons at the armory at the weapons rack that had his name engraved on the top. ”Recruits, fall into the mess hall for dinner. Tomorrow, we will continue our weapons practice. At exactly 2000 hour today, all of you will be in your barracks asleep. Those caught lingering about will be cleaning the latrines. Fall out.”

Michael lied in his cot that night, unable to sleep, even though the lights out had already been announced. ''Did I make the right choice? What have I gotten myself into?'' He looked around his barracks that housed his soon to be squad. Some people, like him, were homesick and unable to sleep. Alan held a picture of his wife. Daniel stared at the ceiling holding the cross around his neck tightly. He glimpsed at Tom who had a troubled look on his face, Tom saw him, nodded and smiled.

”The next month is gonna be fun.”

”Haha, I hope so Tom, I hope so.”

”Don’t worry, we’ll pull through, I know it. We all will.”

Michael hoped he was right. Without giving it any more thought, he fell asleep.