"Williamson,.Michael.Z.-.Freehold.02.-.The.Weapon.v1.1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williamson Michael Z)

on paper, being forbidden to use our comms for personal matters
("All soldiers must carry a manual writing implement and notepaper
at all times, in case of comm failure." Thank you, Freehold Military
Forces!) and parted ways. I cheerfully took the bitching I got and
the extra half div of guard detail.

Deni was in the barracks next to us, which might as well be light-
years away rather than a mere 200 meters. There were sixteen
platoons in each blocky barracks building, and we were on
adjoining sides. Occasionally, I'd see her across the drill field
during PT, or while doing details. It was frustrating.

I had a normal sex drive. I still do. After thirty days, I needed an
orgasm or I was going to die. There were plenty of naked women
running around my platoon for me to think about, and some were
quite hot, but it was Deni in her shapeless goof suit that I thought
about while carefully jerking off under the covers at 0200. I really
hoped to meet up with her later, although I knew it was highly
unlikely.

* * *

We covered much more than the silly minutiae I mentioned above,
and those aren't really part of the training. Those are designed to
get the mind thinking about the petty details that must be dealt with
to keep one alive. The real training was what you would expect, and
then some. We shot, practiced first aid, field sanitation, perimeter
security, orienteering, concealment, support weapons, recognition
of air and space craft of our own forces and others, communication
methods, order and discipline, the laws of war, and unarmed
combat. I excelled at swimming. I'd competed in several events at
school, and was totally comfortable in water.

I loved unarmed combat. I got my share of bruises and then some,
but I learned to dish out much more than I'd ever managed against
bullies. It was a far cry from the rudiments in school gym. The FMF
form is a combination of various styles, predominantly Northern
Shaolin and Indonesian Pentjak Silat, if you want the history. It has
some jui jitsu, hapkido, and a smattering of tai qi quan and mantis
quan, but it's mostly a hard, external form. We were told we'd be
doing it every day in training, and every other day the rest of the
time. I had no problem with that; I loved it.

We covered survival in water, arctic, desert and jungle
environments. That was brutal. I lost five kilos, and I was a skinny
bastard, barely 65 kilos at 185 centimeters. That and our final
exam, trudging around the Sawtooth mountains performing sundry
tasks, was a rite of passage like no other. It was the defining
moment. Why other militaries don't require as tough a test is
beyond me.