Anthem

As the truck speeds out of the parking lot I take a moment to examine the others in it. With seven seats on each side there's a total of fourteen people including me. Almost everyone in the truck is male except me and one other girl in the back right corner. People are writing, talking in hushed voices, or just thinking. The guy who tried to help me into the car sits to my right and the younger boy sits to my left. A tent-like structure sits over the truck bed with an opening in the back and heavy canvas arches over us. The truck starts bouncing erratically and we drive onto a dirt road, I look at the boy on my left. I want to ask him how old he is. I want to ask him if he's scared to be leaving his family. I know my questions will be met with a look of annoyance for bothering him though, so I don't ask.
Another hour passes before people start to talk more. I look to my right. He sits with his elbows on his knees, hands interlocked. I decide to give it a try.
"Hey" I say in greeting.

"Hey" he responds with a nod. There's an awkward silence.
"So, what's your name?" He asks, breaking it.

"Jill." "Hendry." I add.
He reaches his right hand over to shake mine.

"Derrick Tillman." He replies. I give a small smile and go back to my own space to think.
A short while later the truck jolts to a stop. There are several clusters of medium sized buildings with grey metal siding and brown shingles. Possibly barracks or training areas. A majority of the area is taken up by a huge airfield. This must be where we'll be training.
We're escorted into what appears to be a mess hall. A uniformed man follows us in and stands in the front of the room.
"RECRUITS" he shouts, making as all jump.
"THIS WILL BE YOUR BASE OF OPERATIONS FOR THE NEXT FOUR AND A HALF MONTHS." he yells. His voice is loud enough to make my ears hurt but I keep my hands down.
"BASIC TRAINING WILL PREPARE YOU FOR ALL ELEMENTS OF SERVICE. PHYSICAL, MENTAL, AND EMOTIONAL." I see the girl from the truck reach up and cover her right ear in annoyance. The Drill Sargent zones in on her. His name tag flashes before me as he passes. Montgomery. The girl quickly puts her hands back in her lap. "Soldier. What in the hell are you doing?" he asks, his voice deadly quiet.
"Nothing. Sir." she replies with a reddening face.

"STAND UP!". She does.
"PUT YOUR RIGHT HAND ON YOUR RIGHT EAR!" He commands. She does, looking confused.
"PUT YOUR LEFT HAND ON YOUR LEFT EAR!" he commands once again. She obeys, looking even more perplexed.

"Sir?" she begins

"NOW PULL YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS AND SIT DOWN!" He roars. Her face turns even redder and she quickly sits down. No one laughs. After that we all stay still and listen.
"If you do not do what you are told to do, when you are told to do it, you will be punished. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" he yells. No one is sure how to reply and no one wants to reply alone.
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" He spits in my face.

"Yes sir!" I respond quaking.
He moves down the line.
"If you decide to leave this base without my permission, I will hunt you down and sentence your ass to a firing squad! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" He yells.
"Yes sir!" almost everyone shouts. He turns back to me, not satisfied with my volume.
"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" He hollers.
"Yes sir!" I yell.
"SCREAM IT!"
"YES SIR!" I scream, my head is spinning.
He goes around the room yelling at others. I am not alone.
A breakfast of Hash, bacon, and orange juice is served to us. These aren't the meals advertised to be provided on TV. A majority of food must be going to the increasing amount of soldiers on the front. I don't care, it's delicious, I eat it quickly. Not more than two minutes after I finish, anyone with hair longer than their shoulders is sorted into lines for haircuts. I start to get nervous. Haircuts weren't exactly common occurrence at home, and I like my hair length. Unfortunately, I don't seem to have a choice in the matter. Within minutes i'm shoved onto a stool and my waist length hair is cut to a choppy shoulder length style. I tug on the ends until it hurts, wishing it was longer. After that comes physical training. That takes my mind off my hair. All of have to complete a two mile run. If you walk, you get kicked. I manage to make it three fourths of a mile without stopping. When we complete the run, we practice push-ups. Finally comes lunch. Next is even more vigorous training which is followed by dinner. Then comes Drill Sargent time which consists of Sergeant Montgomery yelling at us more and a series of videos displaying the generosity of our country. The session begins and closes with the playing of our national anthem. They put us into groups and lead us to our barracks. There are a few people I recognize from our truck but a majority are new faces.
Toilets line the back wall and four showers take up the right corner. Bunk beds are in rows around the room.
"The rooms are boys and girls?" I whisper incredulously. A handful of guys snicker and elbow their friends. Most just look awkward. The four other girls just frown. The girl I'm assigned to share a bunk with, Evelyn, has a petite build, and has long curly blonde hair. She quickly takes the top before I can get there. I lay my things on the bottom before anyone else can take it. For the next two and a half months it's the same routine, until one morning everything changes.
One morning, well before dawn, our door flies open and the lights shoot on.
"EVERYONE UP!" Our commanding lieutenant shouts. Everyone groans. I'm in much better shape after two months of steady meals and exercise but I'm still not looking forward to a two mile run before the sun comes up. I don't want the face the sergeant. My fear of him has increased steadily the past few months. He never touches us but his screaming makes me think of my father too much.
" BE AT THE AIRFIELD IN FIVE!" He yells quickly before slamming the door shut again. Five minutes. No time for a shower or any kind of washing. I throw my things in my knapsack and join the rest of my platoon as we jog to the airfield. We're met with a massive cargo plane.
"Go. Go. Go." someone directs lazily as we get inside. I can't help but think of the first day when we were loaded into the trucks to get here. The only difference this time is no seats. A small part of my hopes Derrick will help me into the plane like he tried to on the first day. He doesn't. In fact he's far ahead of me. I pull myself up. The inside of the plane is dark olive green like everything else in the camp. Boxes, crates, and nets are tethered along the walls. As the back hatch closes, I feel a burst of excitement. Soon I'll be flying for the first time. My anxiety eats back through me though. Why are we here? I think. [i/] Where are we going...?. After we take off our commanding officer stands and speaks.
"I know you all must be wondering why you're here." he begins. I nod. "Things have been going badly on the front." The front?
"Immediate backup has been requested from all available troops. I know many of you have not completed basic training, but I am confident in your ability to handle the situation." he explains. Everyone is silent, absorbing what he is conveying. "I always say, the best way to learn is experiencing it in real time. We will be flying to the front line to assist." He concludes. I hear gasps and hushed talking. We were going to fight on the front. We were going to Paris.