"Gustav Hasvord. The Short-Timers " - читать интересную книгу автораrecruits learn to survive without slack. Because I am hard, you will not
like me. But the more you hate me, the more you will learn. Am I correct, herd?" Some of us mumble, "Yes. Yeah. Yes, sir." "I can't hear you, ladies." "Yes, sir." "I still can't hear you, ladies. SOUND OFF LIKE YOU GOT A PAIR." "YES, SIR!" "You piss me off. Hit the deck." We crumple down onto the hot parade deck. "You got no motivation. Do you hear me, maggots? Listen up. I will give you motivation. You have no espirit de corps. I will give you espirit de corps. You have no traditions. I will give you traditions. And I will show you how to live up to them." Sergeant Gerheim struts, ramrod straight, hands on hips. "GET UP! GET UP!" We get up, sweating, knees sore, hands gritty. Sergeant Gerheim says to his three junior drill instructors: "What a humble herd." Then to us: "You silly scumbags are too slow. Hit the deck." Down. Up. Down. "HIT IT!" Down. Sergeant Gerheim steps over our struggling bodies, stomps fingers, kicks ribs with the toe of his boot. "Jesus H. Christ. You maggots are huffing and puffing the way your momma did the first time your old man put the meat to her." Pain. "GET UP! GET UP!" Up. Muscles aching. Leonard Pratt is still sprawled on the hot concrete. Sergeant Gerheim dances over to him, stands over him, shoves his Smokey the Bear campaign cover to the back of his bald head. "Okay, scumbag, do it." Leonard gets up on one knee, hesitates, then stands up, inhaling and exhaling. He grins. Sergeant Gerheim punches Leonard in the Adam's apples-hard. The sergeant's big fist pounds Leonard's chest. Then his stomach. Leonard doubles over with pain. "LOCK THEM HEELS! YOU'RE AT ATTENTION!" Sergeant |
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