Meeting The Sergeant Face To Face

Sergeant Brute #1: She escaped her life joining the military, but was it the right decision?

Photo by Daniel Stuben. on Unsplash

You can find more of my standalone stories & short series here.

I’ve been in uniform for the last five years that I lived in South Africa, being a member of the South African Defence Force. I loved being in uniform and had some… er… interesting experiences.

The story which follows is not a true story.

No, it’s my imagination running wild, remembering people I’ve met in the military, and the authority that oozed from their veins. To be honest, despite having loved to be in uniform, and having followed the rules and protocol, I believed everyone was just human. We all had to eat, all had to sleep, all had to… well, you get the picture.

Below is the first of two parts of this story with a military setting.

Enjoy!

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Meeting The Sergeant Face To Face

“On your feet, recruit!” a voice bellowed directly behind her.

Lory jumped up in surprise and turned.

“Do you think that duffel will get in the truck all by itself?” the owner of the voice sneered.

She looked down at his upper arm, where the three-line chevron on his rank insignia instantly told her he was a sergeant.

“Do you understand English?” the man hissed. “Get your duffel in the truck, recruit!”

In a split second, Lory understood he wasn’t just any sergeant. He was the sergeant they had been warned about. Apparently, he would make their lives a living hell.

She scurried to the truck, threw her bag in and rushed over to the other truck where she joined the rest of the recruits of her platoon. The platoon was divided into four squads. Lory had the unfortunate luck to be dealt in with the squad that the only male sergeant in the female training camp would command.

In the first three weeks of her military career, the platoon had been under the command of a lieutenant — also a woman. Even though the lieutenant was strict, she wasn’t mean. Rumors were the male sergeant was everything the lieutenant wasn’t.

The truck started moving and turned onto the road leading to the highway, and taking them further away from the training camp. The buildings of their training camp disappeared as they rounded a bend in the road.

Lory knew she would only see those buildings again after four weeks, if she got through the field training. If not, she would be back here much earlier, to get her civilian stuff and return to her life outside the army.

Why did I ever think I could make a success of this? Lory had asked herself this question a million times since she arrived in the training camp.

But, she knew the answer.

She had signed up for military training to escape from her life back home. She needed something to focus on after Peter had run off with her best friend.

Shame and humiliation had ruled her life when she found out.

It was such a cliché — a boyfriend running off with a girl’s best friend. So cliché, she had wanted to crawl in a hole and hide from the world out there.

Whispered conversations went on around her after she and Peter had broken up. No one talked to her about it, but everyone discussed her broken relationship.

One day in a coffee bar, she’d overheard such a conversation.

That was the same day she had seen the advert in the newspaper. On a whim, Lory signed up for military service and a week later she was on the bus, heading towards the training facility and starting a totally new life.

Those three weeks were filled with theory classes, physical training, marching around the parade ground, inspections of the dorms, and little sleep. At least they had slept in beds for the few hours they were granted rest at night.

They were always up at four in the morning to make their beds, tidy up, polish the floors, shower, get dressed and be ready for inspection by 5.30am.

Breakfast followed, then a full morning program, lunch at noon, an afternoon program, dinner at 6pm and then an evening class. By the time they were back in the dorm, all they had energy for was to shower and sleep.

Up to now, Lory had no time to socialize with any of the others. Some women had formed groups, but she didn’t belong to any of those. This left her feeling lonely and depressed. She literally had no one to talk to.

Lory looked around in the truck to the other women. Some were half asleep, others talked to each other in whispered voices. The woman next to Lory just stared into space, not looking at anything in particular.

“Did you see the sergeant?” Lory asked in a soft voice.

In slow motion, the woman turned her head and looked at Lory as if she saw her for the first time. Lory knew they were both in the same squad.

“Which sergeant?” the woman asked.

“The male one.”

“Ah! Sergeant Brute. Yes, I saw him.”

Contempt laced her words.

A giggle escaped Lory.

This was the first time she heard the sergeant’s nickname, and it was totally fitting.

His name really was Sergeant Bruce, but she liked Sergeant Brute more. That one word captured everything he was — his attitude, his manner of speaking, his appearance.

Her smile quickly disappeared when she saw the expression on the other woman’s face. Lory’s friendliness didn’t touch her at all.

“He’s the best sergeant, I’ve been told,” she said, attempting to engage the woman in a conversation.

“The best. The meanest. A beast.”

With those words, the woman turned her head away and stared into space again. It was obvious that, according to her, the conversation was over.

Lory closed her eyes.

She repeated the words in her head: best, meanest, beast.

Why did her fellow squad member call him a beast?

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This story first appeared on Medium. Read it and others here.