- All right soldiers, it's time to go, don't stay behind.
With that order, we marched, still nervous. Suddenly, someone touched my arm. It was the soldier next to me. He was a little taller than me, with short hair, a thin mustache, and a pleasant face.
"Don't worry, he does that routine with every new soldier. The punishment is just to intimidate us, but don't pressure him or he'll keep his promise," he whispers to me. "By the way, I'm Richard Flynn. You must be William Featherstone. Jeff told the rest of us about you."
- Nice to meet you, by the way, what's the name of the man who's training us?
- This is Sergeant Smith, he was a soldier during the Yakama War, although he really gained recognition when he fought during the Comanche Wars where he managed to ambush a group of enemy Indians who had caused several problems for the army in Texas, thanks to that he was promoted. Another important achievement was the victory over some Apaches who carried out guerrilla attacks on the border with Mexico for several months, but Smith was able to counter their attacks, learn from their techniques, track their hideouts and finish them off, achieving the rank of lieutenant, had he not been sent to this place he could have become the next Ulysses Grant.
"That's really impressive." "And I wasn't lying. If the sergeant in front of us accomplished so much, why did he end up here?"
After several hours of walking, we finally returned to the fort. Honestly, I'm not sure I'll be able to do this every day. The distance between the fort and the mountain is over five miles, and the heat makes for a tiring journey. From what I could see, we have to march in the same pattern and at a steady pace. No wonder the sergeant warned us not to fall behind, or the formation would be ruined.
Upon returning, we headed to the edge of the fort where a series of targets were lined up. The sergeant ordered us to form a line parallel to the targets and start shooting. The model I had was a Springfield model 1861. My dad had a similar one in his room, but it was more worn. There was no time to admire it because I had to practice. Considering it was my first time using a rifle, I didn't do badly. I managed to hit nine out of ten shots and learned that I have good aim, but I have difficulty with the recoil.
"Not bad, Mr. Featherstone. For your first day, you're doing quite well. Although I noticed you had some difficulty during the march, I recommend you improve your stamina," the sergeant said after finishing target practice.
"Thank you very much." When I realized what I'd said, I replied, "I mean, sir, yes, sir."
- Better.
After stopping, we went to the mess hall. I was excited until I saw the food consisted of a worn-out, dry piece of meat with rock-hard bread. They really do eat this. That would explain why Dad didn't like to talk about his time in the army, although I doubt it was just the food that made him act that way. After receiving my food, I sit down. I see Jeffrey and sit with him.
- Hi Jeffrey, what's up?
- Not much, by the way, if the sergeant compliments you, it's because you have talent with the rifle.
- Thank you very much, although he said he needed to improve his walking, but I got distracted talking to Flynn.
"Did you really talk to Richard Flynn?" he asked as if it were a bad thing.
- Yes. What's wrong with him?
"That guy has something wrong with his head. He's always praising the glory of the army and has blind faith in Manifest Destiny. According to him, you have to do what's necessary for the country. There's nothing wrong with looking after your country, but he takes it to an exaggerated point."
- I don't think so, he seemed very calm.
- Be careful though, I'm afraid that if you tell him something he doesn't like he'll end up killing you.
- You're exaggerating, Jeffrey, but thanks for your advice anyway.
"Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you." And with that, he finished his meal and left.
I really don't know what that was, because, although I recognize that Jeffrey is someone trustworthy, I don't believe what he says about Flynn, nobody is like that and much less someone like Richard, maybe he just didn't like him or they had a fight, now the most important thing is to finish the food if I don't want to be late for training.
So the routine continued for another week: waking up early in the morning, eating a small breakfast, marching and practicing marksmanship, having lunch, training again, and then going to sleep. Sometimes there's a little time left if I have enough energy, and I take advantage of it to chat with the other recruits or read a little. Aside from Bird and Flynn, I met a 20-year-old boy named Bob Williams who planned to become a musician, but according to him, it required experience and knowledge of life that he would only find in the army. Also there was Matt Davis, a young black man about my age, whose father was a congressman who traveled to the South during Reconstruction, where he met Bob's mother, a former slave from Arkansas. As for his reason for joining the army, Bob said it was to become a general and even a politician to show the world that black people could go far. That seemed fine to me. But without a doubt the most peculiar recruit was one named Seymour Peterson, a thirty-year-old man who, according to Jeffrey, appeared out of nowhere and joined the army because of his excellent condition, something that I confirmed was true, when he marched he was the only one who followed without any difficulty and at the target he hit every shot, despite that he did not interact with anyone from the camp, he just walked and slept. I remember when I tried to talk to him after finishing the morning shooting session.
"Hello, Mr. Peterson. I'm William Featherstone, the new guy. I was thinking we could talk a bit and make the training less strenuous. What do you say?" After hearing that, he looks at me and walks away.
"Forget it, I'm not interested. If you speak to me again, I'll shoot you." From the tone of his voice, I sensed he was going to do just that.
- I understand. - After he left, I ran into Bird and Davis, who apparently watched the game, because they were laughing.
"Relax, he threatened us too, although he told me he'd throw me off the mountain," Bird says, laughing.
- Well, I guess you can't be nice to everyone. But I still wanted to know why you're like this and what brought you to this point.
"In my opinion, it's a mystery that can never be solved," Davis says. "Now could you pass me a match? I need a cigarette if I want to survive the next march."
- Well, you already owe me two matches, and I don't want to run out. By the way, someday we'll do more than just march and shoot. If so, I'll be very disappointed.
"Well, I recommend you get used to it. Nothing will ever happen in this part of the country," Jeffrey tells me.
- That's too bad, but I still hope something big happens that will bring us glory.
- As you wish, but we'd better hurry up and get some lunch.
And so another month passed. I met the rest of the platoon, but there was no one else who seemed interesting. All we did was the same drill we'd been doing since I joined. But one day after returning from the afternoon march, one of the soldiers from the tower approached the sergeant. He was quite sweaty, so I assumed they had something important to tell him. When I whispered the matter to Smith, he moved away from the platoon to discuss it, but I was curious to know what they were arguing about, so I tried to get closer to listen.
- You're the most qualified, the soldier says.
"It seems absurd to me. It would be better if they sent another regiment. We're too far away, and my group is still in training," Smith replies.
"I'm sorry, but nothing like this has ever happened before, and given your experience in the Indian Wars, we thought you could fix it. Besides, if you don't follow orders, you'll end up being expelled from the army."
- I guess I have no choice in the matter, but I'll need more information about who I'm dealing with if you want me to get rid of them.
- All right, sir.
"Damn it, it wasn't enough for them to make my life miserable, but now they want me to go with a rookie regiment on a potential suicide mission," Smith whispered, but I didn't pay much attention to it.
I was quite excited by what I had just heard, we were finally going on a mission and apparently it was quite important, it would be the opportunity to test my training and obtain glory, although I have to admit that I was a little worried that the sergeant was showing many doubts, but it was surely nothing, so I returned with the others just before the sergeant also returned.
"Listen, soldiers," he shouted, and the entire group gathered around to listen. "Tomorrow we will leave on what will probably be the most important mission of our lives. In the California desert, a group of Indians took Fort Franklin, led by the mysterious bandit called the Wolf, whose head is carrying a bounty of one thousand dollars. It will be a long and hard journey, but despite the difficulties, we will survive and recapture the fort. And if this isn't for yourselves, do it for the United States, the country God blessed!"
After finishing, I put my hand on my chest like everyone else to recite the motto of the flag and the United States, although I was a little distracted due to the happiness that the mission was real and it was better than I dreamed, going to the west to rescue a fort and face one of the most wanted criminals in the country, it would undoubtedly be a legendary trip, so I approached Jeffrey to tell him about it.
- Hey Jeff, what we're going to do sounds exciting, what do you think?
- I honestly didn't expect to be sent on a mission like this so soon, but it will definitely help boost my military career.
- I didn't know you were interested in moving up in the military.
- You could say that's my main motivation for joining the army.
- Great, I joined to achieve glory and have great adventures.
- Well, given your attitude, you'd have to settle for surviving and leaving the state.
"It's not funny," I said, offended.
"You guys can go to that slaughterhouse, I can't," says Pete Skinner, another soldier I didn't bother getting to know because I saw how irritating he was. He was always complaining and cursing his luck for being in this place.
- Come on Pete, you're seriously going to waste this opportunity.
"Listen, I was forced to come here to 'learn discipline,'" he says sarcastically, "but they're not going to send me to certain death. I'd rather live like a coward." And with that, he left.
We didn't bother trying to convince him to stay. If he didn't want to stay and fight, so be it. Out of the entire platoon, he was in the worst condition. He was always wrecked on marches, often falling behind, and his aim was terrible. When we returned to the barracks to sleep, I saw Pete packing his bag with some difficulty, but after finishing, he put it on.
"Well, it was a pleasure being with you, but I must go live," he said boastfully.
"If you want, I can go with you," Flynn said in a way that surprised us all. We hadn't thought he'd do something like that. Jeffrey expressed disbelief and distrust at his response.
- Okay, I guess this reduces the risk of being attacked.
When everyone left, we went to sleep, although I couldn't because of the excitement of the trip and a little because I was curious about whether Flynn would be accompanying Pete, but it would be best to try to sleep for tomorrow when we leave for California.