The United States Marine Corps is built on a simple creed: Inspire confidence. Confidence in yourself, confidence in the Corps, and confidence that they will kill you if you fight them. I've met a number of marines in my life and I'll be damned if they aren't confident; maybe not the sharpest individuals, but that doesn't seem to slow them down.
Now, how to inspire that confidence. All that fake it till you make it talk is bullshit, confidence comes from doing something; anything. Do it over and over until you get good; maybe not the best, but good. I had that concept ground into me for years by my older brother. He was dishonorably discharged from the corps due to some incident during the Iraq war and took it out on me. He never hit me, that hard, but I sure as hell wasn't going to say no.
I still remember the first time he made me run until I puked. It was just after my seventh birthday. No matter how far I ran he kept telling me to keep going. I seriously thought I was going to die, and maybe I kinda wish I did. He finally carried me inside and dropped me in a cold bath after I passed out. I hated every second of it but I felt different afterwards. I remember standing in line at the store the next day thinking, 'I bet none of you have done that before!'
Pathetic, isn't it? I was bragging about my own abuse, but what else was I supposed to do? It hurt, so I wore it like armor.
Piiiiiingg!
The world came back into focus as a piercing noise filled my brain. There I was, laying in a trench during the First World War. An artillery shell just went off a few feet from my head and blew out my ear drums.
Wait, that's not right.
There I was, laying on the ground in another world after shoving a spear down a monster's throat which caused it to explode. No, that's stupid, that can't be right either.
"Nick, are you alright?" A man asks as he runs up to me.
"Who's Nick?"
"You are, dumbass."
"Where am I?"
"God damn, how hard did you hit your head?"
I reach back and feel my wet hair. When I look at my hand I see it covered in blood.
"God damn, how hard did I hit my head?"
"You're gonna wanna not touch that." The man says. "Just wait a second, someone will come take a look at you."
"Who are you?"
"I'm Sampson, You're Nick; any other stupid questions?"
"A lot, actually. Where are we?"
"We're in town. Just sit tight, I'll go get someone." Sampson says. I grab his hand to stop him as I look around through the dust filled air. I'm sitting on a dirt road and I can just barely make out some stone houses through the brown haze.
Holy shit, am I actually in Europe during World War One?
I yank Sampson closer as he tries to run off.
"No, I mean what planet am I on?"
"Gaius."
"Goddammit, why's it got to be that one? That's so stupid!"
"Nick, you got to let me go, you need help! You're obviously out of health points and you need someone who can use healing magic."
"Yeah, yeah, sure. Go get your Magic Man or whatever." I let go of Sampson and grab my head. The ringing has quieted down but has been replaced by an unbearable throbbing headache.
Okay, I just need to retrace my steps. What was I doing just before this? Did I take the dog for a walk? Have I already given my wife her insulin injection? Jesus, that medic needs to hurry up.
"You're okay!"
I hear a directionless voice in my head. I look around but don't see anyone through the cloud of dust in the air.
"Oh god, I lost my memory and now I'm hearing voices? How hard did I hit my fucking head?"
"No, I'm Nick." The voice in my head says.
"I thought I was Nick?" I reply
"No, you woke up in my body a few days ago."
"Well, if you're Nick then who am I?"
"I don't know, you never told me."
"How rude. I wake up in your body and don't even tell you my name? Just who do I think I am?"
"Nick, who are you talking to?" Sampson asks as he jogs up to me with another man in tow.
"That's what I'm trying to figure out." I respond.
Sampson glances over at his companion who takes a quick breath.
"You're not kidding; I'll get started right away." The man says as he moves his hands toward my face. A cool sensation rises up the back of my neck as the world around me begins to fade to black.
"That's it." Sampson says, "just go to sleep. You'll be fine."
Everyone here is so nice.
That's the last thought I have before I pass out.