“THE COLA HIT MY THROAT LIKE A COLD WAVE. I SAVORED ITS chilled, fizzy, delightful sweetness, and took another long chug on my bottle, before resting the bottle lightly on the table in front of me. It was Halfway Day. The official midpoint of IST. Every recruit in Charlie Company not on corrective detail was given an entire Sunday afternoon with a base pass: as long as we didn’t attempt to leave Armstrong Field, we could either walk or catch a bus to the half dozen exchanges and vendor malls tha...t serviced the massive military installation. Dismissed at 1400, our return formation was at 1900. It felt like we had all the time in the world. “Enjoy that while it lasts, Recruit Barlow,” said the recruit directly across from me, a female by the name of Cortez. She tipped her own bottle at me and swigged down a healthy draft, then did a long, drawn out, theatrical “ahhh,” while wiping the condensation-frosted bottle across her sweat-beaded brow. The outdoor pavilion was jammed with recruits.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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