“So; just this sun, or all the suns in the universe?” I asked, trying just to make small talk and avoid the situation.
When I went back to sleep and came back to Equestria, Twilight had a friend waiting to talk to me. Her name was Celestia, and she was apparently also the ruler of the entire land. She also apparently had the power to control the sun, which I would have called bull on if it wasn’t a dream.
The names struck me as rather odd, even with explanation. Celestia, the Sun, at first one would think ‘what are the odds?’ but no, it was planned out that way. Every pony here had a name to correspond with what they did or their personality in some way, just like those marks I was told about. I wouldn’t know how to cope with something like that in the real world, being assigned a role for your whole life. Maybe it would be for the better.
But getting back to where I was at the moment. This princess seemed nice enough; she had this kind of motherly feeling about her. At first I thought I would have to deal with a politician or despot or something, but maybe my mind is being nice to me, giving me this little paradise.
But, it still wasn’t perfect. Sitting there, having to talk to the two of them. It felt like I was some little kid that was in trouble, or more accurately had to talk to some therapist about something pointless. Every time I asked something else, she grabbed the conversation and threw it back onto the track of ‘why are you like this’?
“I have not tested that before,” she replied. “Now, what was your friend’s name again?”
I took a heavy sigh, purposefully loud so that they’d have no problem hearing it.
“Silver. Private Silver. Ok? Private… Joshua… Silver,” I replied, hanging my head.
“He must have been very close to you,” she replied.
I knew she was trying to be nice, but I knew what it would lead to, seeing as how Twilight already told her everything I did.
“Yea, he was a good guy. Most of the time he just played cards with the squad. That was his big thing, too; he must’ve known every card game in existence. He’d only win maybe… a little more than half of the time, but he’d keep doing it until everyone had just had enough. Hell, he still owed me ten bucks when he bought it.”
“That’s an odd thing to think about,” Twilight chimed in.
The two were sitting on either side of me on the couch, so little add-ins were frequent.
“Eh, not… really, I guess,” I replied. “Just something to remember him fondly.”
“And he died just from pure luck?” Celestia asked.
“I guess luck was a factor. I didn’t see it coming, and I don’t think anyone did,” I answered. “I guess a lot of guys meet a fate based on luck in this line of work.”
“It’s all so hard to comprehend.”
“Well, whether you or I understand it or not, it’s there, and when I get I’ll be back in that green hellhole.”
“Perhaps we can help you,” she suggested.
“And how would you be willing to help me?”
“My student Twilight and her friends are all very enthusiastic about friendship, and a few other values,” she explained. “Perhaps they could help you get past this grief.”
Oh great, so this is where things were going.
“No thanks, I’ll be fine,” I replied calmly.
“But why not?” Twilight asked. “I’m sure me and my friends could find something to make you feel better.”
“I’m sure you could; in fact, just being here makes me feel better. But it doesn’t matter, because this is just a recurring dream, one I’ll have to wake up from and go back to reality. It won’t do any real good, understand? I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”
“I can assure you, Sergeant Denell, that we are very much real,” the princess remarked. “Dream or not, we are really here.”
“Yea, sure. I may as well, if it’ll get you guys off my back,” I replied. “At least this little place will be something interesting. Maybe it’ll stop me from going crazy after I see some more friends die.”
“Your condition is incredibly depressing, Sergeant.”
“Welcome to my world, where everything is brutally simple,” I said, looking at the floor. “I kill them, they kill us. Nothin’ to it beyond that, really.”
I still couldn’t get over how perfect they saw things. Everything they had could, for the most part, be solved with turning your enemy into an friend. I wished it was like that in my world, I really do.
“Well, we’ll just have to change that!” Twilight said, hopping up from her seat. “I’m sure there’s tons of stuff we can do to make you feel better, especially with Pinkie, but you probably know that- wait, really?”
It took me a minute before I realized what Twilight was upset about, looking down to see myself fading out again.
“Do you have to wake up now?”
“Guess so.”
“Well, just you wait until next time! It’ll be the best, I promise.”
“I’ll leave it to you, then.”
“Sergeant,” PFC. Noriko said softly. “Sergeant, you were yelling again.”
I tried to keep my eyes shut, not tightly, but naturally, not really having a plan. All the same I figured I did have to get up at some point, regardless of whatever I had hoped keeping my eyes shut would accomplish. Maybe it was to shield myself from embarrassment, but that was impossible, I knew.
Noriko was right about that, though. Not to say I think he made it up, but that it was becoming a festering problem. So many times when I went to bed, my little trip to Equestria was preceded by nightmarish images, and they must have continued while I was there, as some said I tended to go on all night. Something could, very well, be wrong with me.
“Sarge.”
“Yea?”
“You alright?”
“Well, am I hurt or something? Didn’t get blown up by a mortar round, did I?”
“No sir.”
“Well, then I guess I’m ok.”
I pushed the blankets off my narrow bunk bed, and shifted up and to the side. I gave a long stretch to help start up, and looking outside it seemed it was getting close to mid-day. I don’t know how long I slept, but if it did a good job of actually making me feel rested, I’d probably go through an entire day. Noriko was standing on my side, towards the end of the bed.
“What were they about this time?”
I didn’t really bother hiding the more gruesome parts of what I saw when I slept; never thought there was a need to hide it.
“La Drang again. I kept seeing those guys who got caught in the napalm.”
“Yea, I remember that,” he sighed, letting a minute or two of silence pass between them. “You know, some of the guys were thinking you should talk to a doctor. We’ve… already told Doctor Wallace about it, and he said he might be able to help.”
It kind of made me feel like I was being sent to rehab to cure an addiction, only I didn’t want to keep this problem.
“Alright, sounds like a plan,” I said, getting up.
I felt like I towered over the PFC, being about a foot taller than him, though he never let height become a problem in any way.
“So, is everything for today set? Any chores that need to be done?” I asked.
“Not today, really. Bishop’s still trying to drill the new guy; it’s proving tough.”
“Alright,” I sighed. “Where are they, anyways?”
“Today? At the range, I think.”
“We’ll stop by on the way to the Doc. Maybe we can help,” I said, getting up and walking to the barracks door.
“Yea? I doubt that.”
The two of us stepped outside, letting our eyes adjust to the bright sunlight; at least the rain had stopped for now. Most of the usual activity of the base was going on. Troops were exercising or marching, vehicles were moving about, equipment was being worked on, the men who lived there were socializing; all in all it was actually a slow day. There wasn’t anything that you couldn’t see on a daily basis.
Most of it just blew past us; a little game of catch over here and a group of mechanics there wasn’t too much to see. The biggest thing that was happening was some song that was playing over the radio. I think it was The Doors, looking back. I don’t remember, really; there were more important things on my mind.
“Welp, there they are,” I observed as we arrived at the range.
The firing range for small arms was almost precisely halfway between our barracks and the doctor’s place. Bishop and the new replacement were in the last box on the row; with the Sergeant trying to show the Private how to properly shoot an M14. As expected, they weren’t making much progress.
“Come on. Control your breathing, man,” Bishop said.
The Private failed to do this, firing off three shots quickly and missing the entire board.
“Private Ricky, how’s it coming?”
He actually didn’t notice me at first, and shot off two more bullets of his own accord before Bishop actually held him on the shoulder and pointed to me.
“Oh, Staff Sergeant! My bad, sir, I was kinda… in the zone, you could say.”
From the plain white of the target board, it was clear that the ‘zone’ he was talking about was in missing consistently.
“Right, maybe you should keep practicing.”
“What? I thought I hit it at least twice.”
“You grazed it twice.”
“Yea, that’s a hit, right Sarge?”
“You’re the rifleman, you have to hit it dead on,” Bishop explained, pointing to the M14. “That’s why we gave you a rifle.”
“It’s not like I asked to be the rifleman, I’m not that great of a shot.”
“Well, I didn’t ask to lose the guy that came before you, but shit happens,” Bishop replied angrily.
I remember Bishop never really got so mad before that, at least not at his own men. Indeed, pretty much the entire squad’s moral was sinking after our loss and from the continual battle. I hoped it would harden up before we all collapsed.
As for Silver’s replacement, Ricky was from some little place in Iowa, where he didn’t really know what he wanted to do. He was actually a draftee, his number being the lucky one picked, and he wasn’t too fond of it. Nor were we very fond of him or his attitude, he was definitely one of those guys who were not cut out for soldiering.
And I don’t think it was so much that he was drafted, at least not entirely. A lot of the drafted guys were just reserve or rear area, and how he got shoved into what was considered a front line squad, with his skill set, I have no damn clue. And on the other side of the fence, I heard about a squad in one of our other companies that lost an entire fireteam; the whole team was replaced by draftees, and they operated just fine. Once again, it was a matter of crappy luck for us.
“So, where are you guys headed anyways?” Bishop asked.
“The doctor’s; figured it was time we did something about my sleeping issue,” I explained. “We were just stopping by to see how things were going.”
The answer seemed to surprise Bishop, but relieve him as well.
“Alright, I hope you do find some kind of solution,” he said. “Good luck, Deer; I’ll just get back to trying to fix the disaster that’s been handed to us.”
“You’ve got the patience of a priest,” Noriko said before we started off again.
We got to the doc’s building in no time after that, at least it felt like it. Most of the building was empty, and I could see Doc Wallace waiting on me; maybe the guys had known I’d say yes to their proposal. Either way, Noriko wished me good luck and went off to do whatever he had to do, and I sat down with Wallace across from his desk.
“So, how are we going to do this?” I asked. “Look at ink blots to determine whether or not I need a lobotomy?”
I couldn’t even tell if I was being cynical and sarcastic at that moment, like I really thought that was an option for a second.
“No, not at all anything like that,” he replied. “Your team mates already gave me a good deal of info, all I need is for you to confirm it.”
“How so, Doc?”
“Well, just tell me what you see when you dream.”
I actually had to think a good deal before answering him. Of course I would tell him about the nightmares, but what about those ponies? Would he think I’m crazy? I had actually heard of a few others suffering and screaming in the night, so was it a normal part that they were hiding, too?
“Well, at first it’s usually just nightmares,” I answered.
“Of what?” he asked.
Why did everyone need specifics?
“Well, all bad stuff. It…it varies now and then. Always of the things I’ve seen, though. The men I’ve seen die, all the fighting, the… suffering. Pain, the uncertainty. The jungle, the rain, the things in it.”
“And that’s all you see?”
“Well, partially,” I replied. “Usually, after I see that, I go to this place. It’s this… kinda… kidish, cartoonish place. It’s odd because I’m the only human that they have. The whole place is full of vibrant ponies that talk and do stuff a lot like us.”
“Really? Talking horses, you say?”
“Ponies,” I corrected him.
I actually don’t know why I corrected him; maybe I thought it mattered.
“Well what do you see when you’re there?” he asked.
“Well, I interact with them, doing just... fun things. And well, when I’m there, I’m not afraid anymore. I don’t feel bad, or scarred, or anything; I feel happy and warm and… safe. Most of the time, anyways.”
“This is interesting, but it does confirm what I thought,” he said, writing something down. “Sergeant Denell, I believe you are sick.”
“With a disease? Something from the jungle that can get into your head?”
“No, no, something mental. This is something you catch from traumatic experiences, especially in your case of how much you’ve lost.”
He got up from his seat and grabbed a small, plastic bottle from a shelf behind him.
“Sergeant, I have some medicine that may be able to help you,” he told me. “I’ll give you a prescription for these pills. Take only one a day, and your sleep should be free of all dreams.”
“All dreams?”
“Yes, you should have no more trouble with your visions.”
He handed me the bottle and some papers to sign.
“Alright, thanks doctor.”
“Take care, Staff Sergeant.”
I walked back out again, and stopped to look at the tiny bottle in my hand. It was hard to believe that something as little as that could solve my problems, but I trusted him. I actually didn’t want to start taking them right away. My concern was that it took away all my dreams, but did that include the ones with Twilight and her friends? Even if it stopped my nightmares, I wasn’t sure I could make a sacrifice like that. I had to see them again.