Standing in front of the mirror, the weight of the armoured vest embracing me, I felt an overwhelming surge of pride. My short brown hair couldn't hide my eyes, normally covered by longer locks. Studying the uniform I'd strived to earn, a sense of accomplishment washed over me. The magazines added to the vest became layers of security, each click of attachment echoing relief.
Adorning my name tag, I held my Colt CC9, its weight fortifying my determination and sense of safety. Looking at my reflection, a newfound strength stared back at me, a feeling of worthiness finally resonating within after years of doubt. In the bathroom's light, my private marker of rank shone, complemented by the scout regiment badge I carefully placed. Completing the ensemble with a Balaclava to ward off the cold, I felt ready.
Exiting into the lightly snowed ground, tracks crisscrossed, evidence of bustling activity. Sunlight danced off the white snow, momentarily blinding me until I reached for my black glasses. The distant noise of choppers starting up filled the air, the scent of jet fuel lingering as the Bell CH-146 Griffons prepared for flight. Slinging my rifle over my shoulders, I paused, taking in the beauty of the snow-draped trees and the biting chill against my skin. Excitement pulsed within me as I approached the waiting choppers and the groups that would soon become my family.
Basking in the warmth of the sunrise, I stretched my hand toward the light, as if claiming it as my own. "Erin!" My name jolted me from reverie, and I turned to see my mom embracing me tightly, her laughter filled with excitement. Her long brown hair swayed gently in the breeze, her eyes studying my face. Returning her warm smile, I hugged her back, feeling a sense of comfort surpassing even the security of my armour.
"I made something for you, something the army would allow you to keep at all times. I hope you like it," she whispered softly, handing me a wrapped present. Opening it eagerly, I felt anticipation rise as I recognized what lay inside—a patch with my mother's face alongside mine. "You can wear that, just make sure it doesn't interfere with your other badges," she said, her smile lighting up my face.
Putting it on my armoured vest, I hugged her tightly, cherishing the familiar warmth of a mother's embrace. "Mom, I'll come back home... right?" The first hint of fear crept in, acknowledging the risk of mortality, but dismissing it quickly. What were the odds? Surely, they were in my favor.
I waved goodbye to my mom as a loud speaker started to report all soldiers to their choppers, yelling I love you to my mom I turned my back to her as I pulled out a slip of paper showing the chopper I was going on was labeled Griffon 505. As I jogged down the lines of choppers I finally found the right one. "Good morning! How is everyone today?" I asked politely as a girl who helped me in the chopper everyone replied with, tired, it's ok, excited, something along the lines like that. As the choppers lifted up I looked out as I held onto the door and feeling the air rush across my face I saw my mother wave to me as I waved back. As I felt the girl tapped on my soldier pointing to the door and a closing motion as I nod and slammed it closed.
Watching the group of Canadian choppers flying together made me feel powerful and invincible for some strange reason. I pulled out my rifle as I started to clean it with some cleaner. As I started to feel sleepy, being up almost every night up till 12 and then waking up at 5 started to hit me hard in this place of safety.
I awoke to the sound of the door slamming open and a huge wave of cold air. I jolted awake as I heard some Germans talking in their thick accent to some Russians? I looked over and saw some Ukrainians and Germans talking together as my squad got off. I followed suit, staying silent as I studied the massive base.
The base, nestled amid a rugged landscape, was a cacophony of different languages and accents echoing against the tall concrete walls. Snow-capped mountains stood sentinel in the distance, their peaks disappearing into the low-hanging clouds. The bitter chill hung in the air, seeping through every crevice and piercing through the heavy layers of clothing.
As I observed it, I spotted more Germans, Ukrainians, and Americans milling about, their uniforms a collage of different colors against the monotonous backdrop of the base's structures. The buildings, predominantly made of steel and concrete, stood in regimented rows, casting long shadows in the early morning light. A network of trenches, covered with camouflaged netting, snaked around the compound, a testament to the constant state of alertness and readiness.
The atmosphere buzzed with a sense of urgency, soldiers engaged in various activities—some maintaining equipment, others engaged in conversations in a multitude of languages, while a few jogged past in their training routines, their breaths visible in the frigid air. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the metallic scent of weaponry, creating an odd yet familiar scent that lingered in the base.
A central plaza acted as a nexus point, surrounded by administrative buildings adorned with flags from various nations, fluttering vigorously in the biting wind. The sense of camaraderie among the soldiers, regardless of nationality, was palpable. Laughter and camaraderie intertwined with the seriousness of their mission, forming an unspoken bond among the multinational forces stationed there.
I gravitated toward my fellow Canadian soldiers, finding solace in the familiarity of their accents and mannerisms. Despite the differences in backgrounds and languages, there was a shared understanding and respect among us. We exchanged nods and brief greetings, forging a silent connection as we awaited further instructions.
The vastness of the base felt overwhelming, a microcosm of unity in the face of adversity. As the day progressed, the sky transitioned through various shades of blue, the sun casting elongated shadows across the compound. The distant rumble of artillery fire served as a constant reminder of the precariousness of our existence in this conflict-ridden landscape.
I observed the multinational assembly, feeling a mixture of apprehension and determination. Conversations buzzed around me in different languages, forming a symphony of camaraderie amidst the tension of impending duties. I gravitated toward my Canadian compatriots, seeking the comfort of familiar faces amid the diverse throng.
As the day progressed, interactions among the soldiers deepened. We shared stories of home, snippets of past experiences, and jokes to alleviate the mounting tension. The camaraderie among us grew stronger, weaving a tight-knit bond of shared purpose despite our cultural and linguistic differences.
Amongst them, I found a kinship with Sarah, a fellow Canadian scout. Her easy laughter and unwavering determination echoed my own sentiments. We found ourselves drawn to similar routines, silently acknowledging the unspoken understanding that developed between us.
Yet, beneath the façade of camaraderie lay a silent apprehension that lingered within each soldier. The weight of our upcoming mission hung heavily in the air, an unspoken specter looming over our interactions. The gravity of our duties, the risks we faced, and the uncertainties ahead lurked in the periphery of our thoughts, unspoken but ever-present.
As evening descended, the base transformed into a tapestry of flickering lights and muted conversations. The biting cold seemed to seep into our bones, intensifying the solemnity of our collective anticipation. Amidst the barracks, the whispers of restlessness mingled with the soft glow of candlelight, casting elongated shadows on the walls.
Lying on my bunk, the hum of distant voices and the occasional footsteps outside permeated the silence. Alone with my thoughts, I grappled with a myriad of emotions—a sense of duty, the desire to prove myself, and an underlying fear that gnawed at the edges of my resolve.
Sleep eluded me as my mind raced through the memories of home, the faces of loved ones, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. The rhythmic ticking of a nearby clock became a haunting reminder of the passing time, each second drawing us closer to the inevitable mission that awaited us at dawn.