“Time for evening prayers, be back in a few.”
While I wait, I wonder if we are really all that different. People in power have decided we are supposed to be enemies, but why? When I look at Omar and his family, I see good people. Why have we been pitted against each other? Is it the fault of organized religion? Is it the fault of religious leaders involved in a power struggle, or have we been fed misinformation for so long that we can’t make an unbiased decision about someone’s good character based on actions alone?
Omar returns and we continue our gaming. Not long after, we are greeted with the smells of a meal that has been lovingly prepared. Omar and I make our way to the dining table. Each member of his family says their own silent prayer, and we begin to eat. The next week passes with the comforting chatter of family. Though they have different rules and rituals that they abide by, they remind me a lot of the Hollocks. The house is filled with teasing, laughter, and genuine affection. When the day comes for us to leave for basic, we are sent off with many tearful hugs. During the plane ride and subsequent bus ride, I think about the week and am grateful for the experience. It runs counter to many misconceptions I have had. Omar’s beliefs are different from mine, but I know I can count him as a friend. It seems to me all religions are in the same boat. None have the freedom to practice freely.
The next fourteen weeks of basic and infantry training is a blur. It is not as difficult as I thought it would be. There are five other males and one female in my platoon that are 18x, special forces candidates, so we mainly stick together, the rest of the platoon is straight infantry. I have ranked how far I think everyone will get. Tatum Davis will probably be the first to go, he is neither smart, nor fit. I am honestly not sure if he will make it through infantry training. Gordon West will be the next to go, he is a nice guy, but he is already struggling with his fitness. Grant Lee is incredibly fit, although I don’t think he has the mental aptitude to go beyond infantry. I don’t know how he and Tatum scored high enough on the ASVAB to even qualify. Bellamy Weber is fit and smart. He is just so easy going. I don’t know if he has the intensity to see it through. Chloe Abram, the only girl trying for, special forces, is tough as nails. She is strong, smart, and levelheaded but the odds are not in her favor. During the government transition to the U.A. females were no longer able to apply for any special forces' positions. This decision was met with tremendous protest, and the regulations were eventually changed. However, there is no longer any watered-down version of selection and training. Any female who makes it through Special Forces training, does so by adhering to the exact same requirements of their male counter parts. Since the U. A. opened all military jobs to women there have only been two female seals and one female in Delta force. All three were killed in combat within two years. I almost hope she doesn’t make it. Nash Wescot, and I volley for top position, but he is quick tempered, and makes rash decisions. Who knows my rankings may be off…you never really know what people are made of until they are put to the test.
Chapter Nine Savannah
A s I predicted Tatum Davis never made it through infantry training and was sent to a cook battalion. Gordon West was the next to go after injuring his ankle on a ruck march. He was sent off, for training as a unit supply specialist. The five us that are left are getting a week of leave. After that we have orders to report back to Fort Benning, for jump school. I will admit I am excited, but nervous about jumping out of planes. The only plane I’ve ever been on was the one that brought me here. I assume everyone, else goes home to their family for their leave time. There is no one for me to go home to, and with so much time on my hands I know I will just end up thinking about Haven. I decide to find a new place to explore, so I rent a car and drive to Savannah.
It is very southern, but in a completely different way than Louisiana. The pace and the speech are both slow and sweet like molasses. On my third night, I decide to go to a fancy restaurant. It is something I have only been exposed to a few of times, and always with Haven’s family. I go to a place called Voltaire’s. It is clearly an old historic church, turned into a restaurant. It is beautiful and sad
