Training in those days was not as complex or in depth as I have seen it in recent years. Maybe that is just how it goes in a wartime, I am not sure, but the military of my day was one with little excess. My training started as most training does, with fitness. The main thing that we got very good at was marching, as that was how most soldiers got around in that time, trucks were in the very infancy of military usage. We started with five mile marches, and by the end of it we would have to march up to twenty miles.
We got very good at it. Some started better than others. Surprisingly Bruno was the worst one at marching, I guess all those muscles weighed him down or something of the sort. He would always stay at the rear of the formation always complaining about his feet or calves. Though he was very good at the strength exercises that we had to do and would often brag, but knowing his marching struggles the bragging never lasted long.
I was never amazing at marching, or strength training for that matter. I always had a rather average build, not too skinny, not too fat, not too tall, not too short. Spent my entire life living the average person's life. That was why I wanted to join so badly, as well as my patriotic fervor. I thought that if I didn't go do something, like join the legionaries, I would end up in a mediocre life, with a mediocre living. I thought myself destined to follow in my fathers footsteps, and take over our shop when I was ready.
At the time I thought this the worst way to live. No adventure, no spice, I would live and die in that small town of Rus. But I was lucky to live during the war, or so I thought. It reminds me of an old curse "May you live during interesting times' '. I certainly lived during interesting times and I at the time thought myself the luckiest man possible.
After a couple of weeks of fitness training I got into the rhythm of things, when I would wake up, eat, and exercise. Of course, just when we would get used to the schedule they would change it to firearms training. The main rifle that the Empire used on this day was the R60. It was not the newest rifle that the Empire had, but it was the one that eighty percent of the fighting men would use during the actual war, and it was the one that we trained on. It was by no means the best rifle I used in the war. It was a large and encumbering weapon, with limited use in close range, but the accuracy was virtually unbeatable, and a heavy round that could stop most men in their tracks.
I drilled all day for weeks with that rifle, and I was actually not bad at it, not at all. Growing up in a smaller city I sometimes went hunting with my father, but those times were few and far between. It was not a necessity, like it was for some men in my unit who grew up on the outskirts of civilization, where hunting for their meals was a normal everyday occurrence. I, at the time, thought those men strange, so I did not really group myself with them, but later in the war, I found there was no better man to rely on than one of them.
Felix had the hardest time picking up the skill of marksmanship. It made sense, since his father never took him out when he was younger to shoot, his first time even touching a firearm was at basic. On the other side of the spectrum, Carlo and Bruno were straight killers, we were the three best shooters in the company, me of course pulling out ahead in front of the barbarian and the tree. While the three of us enjoyed our station at the front of the company, Felix was struggling near the back.
"I just don't get how you do it" Felix sighed out one evening in the chow hall. "Simple, you just line up the front and back sight" Bruno replied, most unhelpfully. "Oh wow, never thought of it that way, what a genius' ' Bruno smiled at the remark before digging into his mush that the Legionnaires call food. Midway through the bites Bruno starts talking again "But seriously, that is all I do and it works pretty damn well" Felix hangs his head "That's the worst part, you're not even trying" "Maybe you're just overthinking it" Carlo responded, trying to make Felix feel better. "Think about less, think about it more, doubt it'll help. Some people are just not built for certain things. Maybe try your hand at cooking, I overheard the Sergeant saying that we don't have enough cooks' ' I say solemnly feigning sadness .
"Ah piss off, I don't want to hear it from you" "From me" "Yes from you, I expect the other two bumkins to be good shots but you have no reason too" "Who you calling a bumk…" I cut off Bruno's retort "it's called natural talent my boy, it's simply a gift from the heavens" "Gift from the heavens?'' Bruno's attention now shoots back to me, completely forgetting about the quip from Felix "Just because you did well on some practice targets, doesn't mean you will do well in the real thing" "Oh yeah, cant see why not" "If you think shooting at targets is like shooting another animal, you got something coming." "It's the same idea brother man, point, pull the trigger, except instead of a bullseye, because as you all know all I hit are bullseyes, it will be one less Gelt in the world" I say as I point and fire a finger gun at felix sitting across the table. Carlo laughs "Let's hope it will be that easy ''. I join in on the laughing. "Oh I can't see why not"