More than anything, he wanted to be a Marine but the recruiter wasn’t impressed with his size or weight. Dejected, he went to the Army and enlisted.
They immediately discovered that he was small in stature but big in desire. He pushed himself harder than anyone in his platoon. No matter how hard they tried to break him he always managed to pull through. Slowly he earned the respect of even the drill instructor who professed a dislike for everyone and everything.
At the Basic Combat Training (BCT) the Army uses a color system to track the path of recruits. The Introduction, Red Phase, White Phase, Blue Phase and then graduation. His weakest area was the Red Phase where they are taught the importance of team work and how to work in unison.
Raymond had always been a loner and had never even considered a team sport. Even though there were others like him he still wasn’t very good at blending in. It caused the drill instructor to be extremely harsh with him, trying to get him to wash out.
Raymond hung in and when it came to the White Phase, where basic skills and conditioning along with team work came into play he soon found he had to adapt if he was going to make it. The Blue Phase is where he excelled with weapons training, infiltration and hand to hand combat. No matter how big the man he was up against was it seemed impossible to put the small man down.
At times he took blows that would knock the average person out but he always just kept coming, constantly pressuring his opponent until he wore him down and then he would strike.
At some point, because he looked so young and frail compared to the other trainees, he picked up the name ‘The Kid’ but over time it was shortened to just ‘Kid’.
Alright ‘Kid’ you think you can tackle just about anything don’t your”
“Sir, yes sir,” he shouted jumping up from where he was sitting on the edge of the large mat.
“Well, I guess it’s about time to take some of that cockiness out of you. Get on the gloves and get to the center of the mat,” the grizzly DI said.
“Sir, yes sir,” he said putting on his lightweight sparing gloves and going to the center of the mat.
The others were cheering and banging on the floor. The DI had stripped off his shirt and did a few exercises before putting on his gloves.
Everyone was going crazy as the DI stepped onto the mat and walked out to where the Kid was standing.
“Sir, question sir,” the Kid yelled.
“Damn Kid. I’m standing right here. What are you trying to do puke, break my eardrums so you can sneak up on me,” the DI said.
“Sir, no sir,” he said just as loudly.
“Alright numbnuts what’s your question? Spit it out before I go deaf.”
“Sir, am I allowed to fight as always or does the DI needed special consideration, sir?” he said trying to hold back a laugh.
Everyone cracked up and started yelling and stomping and pounding on the floor.
“Kid,” the DI said and smacked him upside the head so fast that he didn’t have time to react.
The DI was all over him pounding him into the mat. The last thing he saw was the look of fire in the DI’s eyes before he blacked out. It was dead silent in the large room. Everyone froze in place. They had seen the Kid kick the butt of the biggest man in the company. Now he was laying on his back, his legs shaking.
“Anyone else want a shot at me?”
No one said a word, they just looked from the DI to the Kid sprawled out on the mat.
Later that evening the DI came around and sat down beside the Kid.
“Raymond I know you think you got a crappy deal but there was a lesson in that. Got any idea what it was?” the DI said, putting his hand on the Kid’s shoulder.
“No sir, I don’t. All I know is that you never gave me a chance to get ready.”
“There you go Kid. That’s the lesson. Never give someone the chance to get ready. You fight for only one reason, to win. I’m thirty-six years old, you're nineteen. You have youth and think you're invincible at that age. By the time you get to be my age you realize that isn’t enough. You have to be smarter than the other guy. The older you get the swifter it has to end. Keep that in mind as you get older Kid. It just could save your life someday,” the DI said.
“Thanks Sir. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to remember,” he said touching the bruise under his eye.
The DI just nodded, stood and walked out of the barracks.
As soon as he left several others came over to his rack.
“What did he say to you?” they wanted to know.
“He said he whooped my butt good and would do it again tomorrow if I gave him any attitude,” he told them.
“No way. He really said that? Man that dude is hard core all the way,” one of his friends said.
“Yeah but he is one smart dude,” the Kid replied.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
“Boys I've got it all figured out. I just need the other guy's weight with the rebreather and the bio-suit. It isn’t totally necessary in the scheme of things. I used 250 pounds when I made the calculations. I doubt they send anyone larger than that,” Buck said.
“Boy, are you wound up,” Mark said.
“Guy's been drinking too much caffeine,” Randal added.
“Very funny. Get your butts over here and let me show you what I’ve come up with,” he said as he rolled out a blueprint.
“Look at that,” Ronald said laughing, “A full set of blueprints no less. You know Buck, Mark and I designed one just like that on the back of a napkin.”
“You amateurs. If you're such smart guys why don’t we just use your drawing. It would probably save us a lot of time. I would like to stay to see how it all turns out. I can just hear Mark now. Oh Ssssshhiiiittttttt… splat,” he shot back.
“Maybe we should look at his drawings,” Mark said.
“Why? I’m not going,” Randal replied.
“Looks like I may have to poke a small hole in your suit in the back where you can’t reach it,” Mark quipped.
“Okay, we use his drawings. Tell us what we are looking at Buck,” Randal said.
It took Buck a good forty-five minutes to go over the entire set of blueprints. They were not all that interested, especially when he went into detail about his calculations of load bearing and the electrical requirements. They dutifully stood and tried to look like they were following what he was saying.
“It looks kind of like a gondola they use at ski resorts,” Mark pointed out.
“In a way, I suppose. Of course they don’t wear re-breathers on ski gondolas,” he said dryly.
“Good point,” Mark replied.
“You dunderheads got any questions?”
“No refrigerator for drinks?” Randal asked straight-faced.
“I thought about that but decided they would have to open their bio-suits. I thought that might not be the best thing,” Buck answered.
“Well then I guess the next logical question would be how long will it take to build it?”
“A week at most. I would say a little sooner but I want to make sure the anchor points are good and solid,” Buck told them rolling up the drawings.
“Yeah, me too,” Mark added.
“Sargent Roundhouse, the base commander wants to see you right away,” the young pfc. told him.
The Kid frowned and laid down his card hand.
“You boys don’t put away that money yet. I’ll be back in a jiffy,” he said acting more sure of himself than he actually was.
He had no idea why the base commander would want to see him. He had just been promoted to Staff Sargent a few weeks ago and he couldn’t think of a single thing he had done wrong.
He changed into his best uniform, checked his beard to make sure he was okay and then headed to the base headquarters. Man, if he did something wrong it must be huge to be called directly to the Old Man. He hurried up the steps, removed his cover and went inside.