This just doesn’t feel right—we should be trained…or something before going out. #36

“Sir,” you add as you leave.
Stewart looks up at you, pulling the pipe from his mouth and smacks his gums. “What is it, soldier?”
Valda shakes her head.
You continue anyway.
“This seems, well…highly suspect, sir.” Glancing out the tent flap, you can plainly see recruits being trained. “We haven’t been prepared for combat, or, for anything, except maybe the most menial of duties. We’ve never served in the military before, but it does seem strange to be sent out on an assignment so fast…doesn’t it?”
Your Sargent raises a wild, grey eyebrow, considering your words carefully.
“Maybe you’re right,” he smiles.
Valda breathes a sigh of relief.
“I’m glad we have alert, conscientious people noticin’ the details o’ things. I got just the duty for you…and it won’t take no training at all.”
You and Valda spend the next six months exclusively as stable hands. From dawn until dusk, you shovel horse manure.
Valda…isn’t very happy with you.

THE END