In a cramped and dark barracks room, where Sergeant Randy Ditty had lain sleeping, the television news burst forth in alarm: "Thousands Wounded! Hundreds Dead! Men, Women and Children! Gwangju Burns!?"
Randy awoke, sweating. Images on the television cast fiery lights across the room. His eyes flickered from shadow to shadow until he was certain he was alone.
Groggily, he followed the beige walls of his bedroom unit to the hallway door and through it. He nodded at the guard on Charge of Quarters duty.
The guard yawned and nodded back. CQ duty typically lasted 24 hours, from 6AM to 6AM, and the nightly news was programmed for 1AM.
Randy felt like he could sleep a few hours more, but he was hungry. He walked lazily to Barrack 2-A-1 Floor 3's rec room. Swiping his thumb on a Digi-print Scanner, he eyed the vending machine's contents. "Tch." They were out of Milky Whey bars again. He would have to message Supply in the morning. He tapped his feet while the machine verified his thumbprint. "Maybe it failed to read?" he wondered until he swiped his thumb again. "Sniggers, Al Mònde Joys, …"
Steps echoed forth from the hallway and Randy took position.
The CQ Guard rounded the corner and opened his mouth to yawn. The yawn reached a peak, and he shut his eyes tightly.
Randy slapped the CQ Guard's back.
The CQ Guard woke with a start and caught himself stumbling. "Di- Sergeant Ditty?"
"Him and no other," Sergeant Ditty replied. "Sorry." He helped the guard to his feet.
The CQ Guard stammered, "No- tha- thank you! I was falling asleep out here!" After an awkward silence, he added, "… is just so boring. And it's hot! Way hotter than…." He trailed off. Another awkward silence. "I'll just keep- just, make my rounds." He quickly added, "I-if that's okay! Sergeant… ?"
Sgt. Ditty glanced at the soldier's nameplate, "HYUNTAE." He moved deftly towards the vending machine and punched in "B40" for a Three Buccaneers bar and waited. Noticing it was stuck, he shook the machine violently and glared at Private Hyuntae who was staring awkwardly from the doorway.
Hyuntae quickly reached into his bulging pockets, pulled out a handful of Milky Whey bars, and gestured Sergeant Ditty to take them.
Sergeant Ditty, in red-faced embarrassment at his own behavior, stomped towards Pvt. Hyuntae and gently removed a Milky Whey bar from his outstretched hands. "As you were, Private."
The vending machine whirred, crinkled, and dispensed a Three Buccaneers bar which fell with a thud.
Sergeant Ditty returned to his room and locked it. Leaning against the door, he slumped to the ground. "I should say sorry," he thought. He was not even faintly tired anymore, but his body still ached from the mission he had just returned from.
Randy rose to the bathroom, peed, filled a cup with tap water, and opened a bottle of sleeping meds. He took two with water and returned to bed. The sheets clung to the mattress at the corners. Randy pulled them to cover himself as he crawled inside.