Читать книгу The Remnants - W. P. Osborn - Страница 18

Danny’s introduction to military life was anything but auspicious. True to his character, his immediate instinct was to flee. From the first day of his arrival at Cromwell Field he began to very publicly defy all authority, while in the same breath he muttered a promise of early escape. His immediate superior, a callous but resourceful corporal named West, proved to be less than accommodating. He had resolved to break this recruit of his rebellious streak and deployed brutal punishments. After an exhausting two week period of relentless physical trials and constant verbal abuse Danny still remained defiant, but knew in his heart that he could not last much longer - defeat was on the horizon.

In the end, it was a wily company sergeant named Crom who got to him. Over the corporal’s beleaguered objections, Crom pulled Danny out from the punishment detail to confront him directly.

“Listen lad,” he challenged, “I’ve been watching you for a week now and you ain’t got much more left in ya before you drop down dead. Now, it’ll go a lot easier for you if you show some brains and a little backbone for once in your young life. “ Crom stared at him and raged, “By rights I should have you up on report and delivered to the stockade where they can keep you for the rest of your enlistment.” Then the sergeant stepped back and shook his head, “But I know there’s a good soldier in there somewhere if you’d just give yourself half a chance.”

Danny stood silent and defeated. He knew a term in the stockade would end any hope of keeping his promise to Rose.

Crom ended their confrontation by promising him a fresh start if he would agree to straighten up and keep his mouth buttoned shut. Filthy and exhausted Danny knew he had finally met his match and quietly nodded his agreement.

“We’ll shake on it then,” Crom insisted as he thrust his hand forward. Danny shook the man’s hand obediently and lowered his head in defeat.

“Now you run along now to the canteen and tell Sergeant Wilkes that I ordered you a portion of that lovely lamb stew you missed at lunch, find y’self a hot shower, get cleaned up and report back to me. Tomorrow, we’ll commence to make a true soldier of you.”

Over time the sergeant’s patience had begun to win him over. The steady reinforcement of the military manual and standing orders, constant drilling and repetitive weapons training forced Danny to reconsider his options. As the weeks slipped by and his skill and acumen for all things military took hold, he felt his anger begin to abate and his urge to run retreat. From deep within he began to acknowledge a begrudging acceptance of his plight and by the end of three months Danny had capitulated to a soldier’s life. He reasoned that it was now his only chance to survive a purgatory that the vicar, Dr. Welsey had pronounced, “his pre-ordained oblivion.”

Propelled by the veteran smarts of two new pals and fellow conscripts, Jack Charlton and Terry Graves, Danny had determined to accept the sentence that life had thrust upon him and he began to count the months until the end of his enlistment.

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