"This is a standard issue rifle. You're all one of the first to use them because they're so different from the old guns everypony must be taught how to use them." Drill Instructor Sentry explained, as he continued to examine the gun. "Kroger, you use something like this?"
"Negative. I used the M4 carbine." I responded
"Carbine? Those are way shorter than a musket. Think you can handle this?"
"Absolutely. I used mine on semi auto but I would use full auto when we were protecting a HVT. I was also taught on a rifle in basic. But it's way different than that thing."
"Damn. Ok everypony, watch me figure this out. I wish they gave us some time to learn these guns ourselves." He muttered to himself, he loaded the gun and looked down range. He shot once, recocked the gun and shot again.
"This is already way nicer than those muskets. Alright everyone on the line! You're doing some work." We all stood up and formed a line on the range. "Prone!" We all immediately ate dirt and looked down range. "Up! Now come grab a gun, it's time you do some real practice."
We all grabbed a gun and fifteen bullets. It was no M16 and ninety rounds, but it'll do.
"Alright, slide the clip in, it's designed to let the bullets in and the clip will slide out and onto the ground. Since I went over gun safety during the last two days, here's a tip; don't point the rifle at anypony."
I slid the clip in and watched it fly out with a sound similar to the Garand clip hitting the ground. I pulled the bolt backwards from instinct before I realized it was wrong. Correcting my mistake, the bolt slid forward and locked in place.
"Shoulder you weapon!"
We all lifted our guns up to our shoulder and looked down the sights. The range was filled with targets of all shapes and sizes, ranging from a less than hundred yards out to almost half a human mile.
"Fire!"
The line exploded into a cloud of smoke and fire, along with the sound of a hundred rifles going off. A few coughs came throughout the line, I barely blinked and took in a deep breath of acidic smell from the powder. I was expecting to get hit by a sudden PTSD attack caused by the smell of gunpowder. Luckily, I kept my PTSD flashbacks at zero throughout basic so far.
I rechambered the gun immediately and looked down range for a long off target. Several guns around me went off and I went as well.
I was on checkpoint duty outside Khandahar City. It was a fairly busy day for checkpoints, it was market day so farmers were coming to sell their goods. The Taliban were coming to kill us and get into the city.
An old pickup came rumbling down the road, most likely some farmer or merchant t comping to sell stuff. He pulled up to the checkpoint and we asked some questions as we searched his truck.
"Ask him if he knows any hajis." Sergeant Jud told our terp. When he was asked if he knew any, he shook his head. Before my first deployment, I looked up some basic words in Arabic to help me while over there. Unfortunately they don't speak Arabic, but rather dozens of languages were found in the country. But it was obvious he was saying no, so we let him on his merry way.
Despite our attempts to find any terrorists and make them attack us, it was another boring checkpoint duty.
An hour later, a small convoy sped towards us, mostly likely a local governor or warlord. Warlords were fine half the time, knowing full well we would end them before sunset. Instead the trucks slowed down while the lead car sped up.
"VEBD!" Someone shouted and we all starting shooting at the engine and driver. AN: VBED is Vehicle Borne Explosive Device.
The car crawled to a stop, then exploded, most likely the driver's attempt to so something. The remaining trucks drove up and their passengers hopped out and started shooting us. We returned fire and quickly dealt with them.
"Isn't checkpoint duty supposed to suck?" I asked.
"No because every road, no matter how insignificant, is significant." Brody replied.
"Stop puking that shit up, Brody." Kid said, "Let's go see if they have anything good on them."
I woke up on a bed and a pain in my arm, next to me was a corpsman looking down at me.
"How do you feel?" He asked.
"Fine." I answered, "What happened?"
"From what I was told when you entered, you froze up on the range. Whatever happened they couldn't get your attention. Brought you in here with your arms still sticking straight out."
"I had a PTSD attack, it wasn't even that bad. It was when I was pulling fucking checkpoint duty and some guys attacked us. It wasn't even that intense."
"I'm not a head doctor who spouts big Prench words so I don't know. I'd head back to your unit and keep on your day."
I walked back to the range to find my company still there.
"Welcome back, Kroger." Drill Instructor Sentry said to me as he handed me my rifle back. "Feel better?"
"I'm perfectly fine. I just don't understand why it happened."
"Well, if you ever need an ear, obviously none of the colts here have served. But I was in Canterlot during the Royal Wedding."
"You've seen combat? You're bullshitting me."
"One of the few. What happened?"
"One minute I was here, next thing I knew I was pulling checkpoint duty. It wasn't anything traumatic."
"Like I said, if you need an ear I'm here. If you want, you can sit out the rest of the day."
"I'm fine, it was a small one. It's when I start yelling you should be worried. Those are the one with dead civilians and friends." I answered with a grin as I grabbed my gun.
"Dead civies? No army should be killing civies?"
"Yea? Tell that to the fuckers who did." I walked off and rejoined the line the range. I checked my gun to find it empty. I checked my pockets for the spare rounds and was surprised to find them. I decided to practice on the gun empty, just in case I had another attack. I went through the motions of loading, aiming and shooting until we were told to shut it down.
***
Later that night
I was in my bunk, trying to get some sleep. Ever since I enlisted back home, I was hit by cases of insomnia. I wasn't the only one with it, I would walk around sometimes to ponder whatever happened to come to me that night.
My thoughts took me back to something I thought of often; am I making the right choice? What Michael and I was technically treason since we were in the military. But on the other hand was no one back home would know because no one knew where we were and at some point our enlistment would have ended. While I made the choice near what we assumed to be Thanksgiving, I still would have 'But what if..." thoughts during the winter.
I rolled over to be on my side and continued to think my decisions over.
Canterlot
Princess Luna looked at a map of all the divisions for her triennial review, her second since she returned. She would review the change in population and redeploy troops as needed, based on the movement of her ponies.
The maps revealed a large trend: More ponies were heading south than anywhere else, even those who immigrated to Equestria was living in the south. Most major cities were along the coast, with a few exceptions, such as Canterlot or Stalliongrad. Even then, none of them were in the south!
"Las Pegasus has seen some growth, but barely." Princess Luna noted. "Most are in small towns, such as Appleloosa. Ponyville has also barely grown, even with Twilight there. Oak Ridge has doubled in population though, nearly three times." She wrote down her recommendations to mention to her sister.
Two new divisions to be trained for the southern-central part of Equestria with one in or near Ponyville due to Twilight's presence.
Camp Warwick, four weeks later
We finally finished basic, only one more thing to do: graduation ceremony the following morning. We were being given our first assignment after graduation. I was hoping to stay on the front and not a desk warrior.
"Gear Shift, Match Box, driving school." Yet two more examples of pony names being spot-on. I thought to myself. Match Box, despite sounding good at starting fires, shares his name with the toy car company back on Earth.
"Kroger, Fuchs, Magomedov, Carpenter, officer school." I was surprised, so was everyone else. I was planning to enter the OCS for the Marines in Quantico in a few years, but to become one a few months after basic.
"An officer?" Michael asked, "I doubt I would've stayed long enough back home for that."
"Well, all four of you did well in leadership roles. The Princesses themselves asked for you to be an officer, Kroger."
I can't find much on officer schools that was useful so I may jump that and pick up in fall/winter