Faith considered his options for a moment. Ordinarily, he’d tell them all to wait until he got changed into his PT clothes, and then partake in whatever smoke session was about to go down. That would serve the dual purpose of getting his PT in for the day, and ensuring whatever was about to happen didn’t get too far out of control. There was also the possibility that Sergeant Ellery wasn’t going to do anything about this situation. Heck, there was a possibility that this guy wasn’t even “Sergeant “Ellery” at all. For all Faith knew, this person was just a guy with sweaty PTs and nice teeth.
“Yep, see you at PT,” Faith said, deciding to take Ellery at face value. Ellery saluted a final time, Faith returned it and began making his way towards his truck. Private Pigpen was already gone and the other soldiers were moving to comply with Sergeant Ellery’s instructions. Faith gave what he hoped was a particularly menacing glare towards those who remained. They didn’t look particularly impressed.
Monday morning came quickly. PT started at 0600, but Faith made sure he got there early. Even though it was early, the Kentucky heat was already on the rise. At about 0545, Faith noticed a few soldiers starting to mill around in a small field off to the side of Delta Company. A few minutes later, Faith emerged from his truck, locked it, and placed the key under the floormat in the truck bed. This way he’d have nothing in his hands or in his pockets during PT. His dog tags rattled against his chest as he made his way towards the field and he shook out his hands to deal with the nervous energy he felt as he prepared for his first-ever “real” PT session.
As he approached the group, he saw no one that he recognized. At least, there was no one from Friday’s incident with Private Pigpen. But he did notice one or two of the specialists who pulled the “now you have to salute us all” prank on him. Faith smiled to himself. Dressed in gray PT clothes with no visible name and no trappings of rank, none of them seemed to recognize him. Approximately ten minutes before 0600, the troops began to straggle into lines and form something that began to look like a formation. Not seeing SFC Ellery and not knowing where else to go, Faith assumed a position centered on and about two steps behind the formation. At about five minutes out, individuals that Faith assumed were NCOs got accountability for their squads. The leader of the fourth squad, the one closest to Faith, approached him and stuck out his hand.
“Good morning sir,” he said. “Staff Sergeant Spencer David, Fourth Squad.” He exchanged salutes with Faith and then shook his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Sergeant David,” Faith replied. “How did you know I was an officer?” In their physical fitness uniforms, there was no rank differentiation.
David grinned. “What else would you be, sir?” he asked rhetorically. Faith hoped he meant that as some kind of compliment. David had a professional demeanor and an easy smile. Faith liked him immediately. Before they had a chance to talk more, Faith saw SFC Ellery approaching the front of the formation.
At his arrival, before he even said a word, conversation ceased and the lines tightened up, even though the soldiers were still at ease. At precisely 0600, a cannon boomed in the distance and a recording of Reveille began to sound.
“Fall in!” SFC Ellery commanded. Immediately, all of the men in the formation snapped to a rigid position of attention. “Present, arms!” As one, the troops saluted and held it through the duration of the song. While Reveille played, Faith wondered where the rest of the company was. While he could see Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie Companies off in the distance, this platoon seemed to be the only one from Delta Company that was doing PT. Or at least, they were the only ones doing PT in this area.
After the music faded, SFC Ellery gave the command “Order, Arms.” This was all pretty typical so far, Faith had gone through this same routine at least a hundred times during ROTC and in Infantry Officer Basic. But then SFC Ellery did something that Faith didn’t expect.
“About, face!” At this command, the entire formation turned and was now facing Faith. Technically, Faith should have turned around also since he was ostensibly part of the formation, but this move was so unexpected he remained in place. Feeling like an idiot, with everyone looking expectantly at him, he started to turn so at least he’d be facing the same way as everyone else. But just before he did, he heard Ellery begin to speak.
“5th Platoon, this is Second Lieutenant Scott Faith. He’s new to Delta Company and comes to us by way of ROTC at Middle Georgia Military College and Macon University. Let’s give him a warm Mad Dog welcome!” This exhortation was followed by a series of enthusiastic barks and howls from the assembled men. After a few seconds of this, Ellery again commanded “About, face!” to get everyone facing him again. When they, as one, complied, he gave another order: “Extend to the left… march!” and with that, Faith’s first experience in a “real” unit began.
“Did I just meet my platoon for the first time?” Faith wondered as he participated in the stretching exercises and calisthenics. If he had, it seemed kind of anti-climactic. He expected something… different. And how did SFC Ellery know where he went to school? It didn’t come up when he met him on Friday. That was weird. Whatever, it was time to put that aside and concentrate on killing it physically for the next hour and a half.
(end)
Discussion Questions
1) Where is the rest of Delta Company?
2) Is this Faith’s platoon? No one said anything to him about it.
3) How does SFC Ellery know so much about Faith? Is that kind of creepy?
4) Should Faith pull SFC Ellery aside after PT to talk more about Friday’s incident?
