I was going to post everyday, but I had a hard time with some of the prompts. That being said, here is what I’ve been working on:
‘Yowzah!’ thought Daryl as he watched her walk out of the barracks. Light, blue hair pulled back in a bun; blue, fin-like ears (weird); and wearing an army uniform that seemed way too small to be legal! Her body practically popped out.
A soldier next to Daryl muffled a “Dammmmmn” into his arm, while another couldn’t help but whistle. That was a big mistake.
“Who whistled?” A woman came out; she was wearing the same army uniform (albeit with differing results) and what looked like a broad-brimmed hat. She matched up to the formation.
“Which one of you whistled?”
Silence, and then. “I did, Drill Sergeant!”
The Drill Sergeant went through the rank to the soldier who spoke. She looked at his name tape.
“Washington… Why did you whistle in my formation?”
“I, got a little carried away, Drill Sergeant.”
She looked down, and then back up into his face. “You got carried away?” she said, “Privates. We don’t get carried away.”
She stepped out of the formation. “Half-right face!”
The entire formation groaned as in unison as they all turned to right 45 degrees.
“Front lean rest position, move!”
They all stooped down, placed their hands on the ground, and kicked their feet out behind them–everyone in a push up position. Daryl followed suit. Everyone but the blue-haired girl was on the ground.
Drill sergeant turned and looked. “Private. What are you doing?”
“I’m not getting on the ground,” she said. Her eyes rolled.
“Get down right now, or I will put you down!”
“You can try.”
Drill Sergeant smiled.
Daryl turned his head to see two other Drill Sergeants coming over. All three surrounded her, standing two inches away from her, they shouted commands at her until she got down on the ground with everyone else.
Drill Sergeant walked away while the other two continued to shout at the girl.
“Privates,” she said, with the calm of Mother Teresa. “I’m Drill Sergeant Brooks. Here at Ft. Wichmann, we don’t get carried away…”
One of the other Drill Sergeants came over and shouted, “Down!”
Everyone lowered their bodies into a push up.
“And we certainly don’t talk back to our NCOs.”
“Up!” said the other Drill Sergeant.
Everyone pushed up.
“You have all been specially chosen for this training.”
“You’re not special. You’re just lucky, you get to train with me.”
“This is a very special training. As you have noticed, some of you are Seamen.”
“Some of you are Marines. Others Airman and others Soldiers.”
“Because of this, you will all be trained to the Marine standard.”
“My superiors believe it is the best training for the type of school this is.”
“Do I agree?” she said. “That’s not my place. Just as it is your place to follow my orders.”
“Now I expect all of you to act professionally. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes Drill Sergeant!” Daryl and the rest shouted.
“Good. Position of Attention, move!”