The morning of a military camp typically begins early, often before dawn. Men and women wake up to a loud wake-up call or bugle, followed by a quick personal hygiene routine.
Afterward, they gather for a physical training session, which includes exercises like running, push-ups, and team drills.
Breakfast is usually served in a communal setting, featuring hearty, nutritious meals to fuel the day.
Following breakfast, there may be briefings or formations where leaders outline the day's schedule. Followed by various training activities, drills, or classes focused on skills development and teamwork. The atmosphere is disciplined and focused, emphasizing camaraderie and readiness.
***
Stanley stood there in his attire that consists of a camouflage-patterned combat shirt and trousers, the shirt features long sleeves with reinforced elbows, and the trousers have multiple pockets for utility. He wore a sturdy utility belt equipped with pouches for carrying gear. His footwear includes a durable combat boots, providing support and protection. He is highly respected and very well recommended. At his age he is a lieutenant general.
He was in a conversation with one of the officers' in turn. They were recruiting newcomers, the place looked normal though. Nothing seemed out of order.
Everybody was doing what he or she had been instructed.
"Sir." Somebody greeted him drifting his attention from the officer he was speaking to.
"You're to meet the people who would be making the newcomers attires. General just informed me,"
"Alright, Captain. I've heard you." Stanley spoke with a bored tone.
Captain Julius finally placed his hand he head on his forehead by his side. He looked at Stanley with mixed emotions.
"What's up?" He asked after the officer had left. Julius had known Stanley since the day he stepped foot on the camp. The young man is always vibrant and ever ready to get any orders done.
'What happened today?'
"Why don't you go in place of me. I don't want to," Stanley asked his friend and subordinate.
"This is the first time you are asking me to do something for you instead of commanding. Sorry I can't. I'm in charge of the newcomers." Julius awfully rejected his friend. It was kinda a request though.
"I'm only delivering the instruction."
"Sorry, got to go," Julius patted Stanley's shoulder before leaving.
'Now what?' His inner voice aksed. He was okay with not taking part of the newcomers list, something in him didn't want to. He just want to stay with the men training.
***
"You know, it's a big task we have here. Everyone must put in his or her best for us to get these uniforms done." May, the leader of the fashion group that was there to make the uniforms informed her team.
They had about--- almost thousand uniforms to make real. No time wasting. Her members began to move their things up and down, to and fro. Everyone must involve him or herself. Then what's the need of following?
Stanley saw the General seated with some of the people, already commanding them.
'Does he never get tired?'
"What's wrong?" Richard asked his grandson. From the manner he approached him, he wasn't himself.
Stanley sat down beside his old man. No that was rude. He's not old.
"Lemme guess, you prefer to be with the men than being here." Richard looked at his grandson worriedly.
"You've always been busy. I just want you to take a break."
"Grandpa," he addressed the man with a hint of worry. They usually do not have time for each other. Even when they do, it's always about work.
Richard didn't mind his grandson referring to him that closely. The whole base was aware of the relationship. And him with his status can make Stanley anybody. But his grandson made it all by himself.
"You need the break more than I do. You've been here the whole month." Stanley complained.
"Whan are you returning home?" He asked with mixed emotions.
Richard patted his boy's shoulder.
"Very soon," he replied.
"I'm not convinced." Stanley said stubbornly.
"I will. Don't worry."
"General, a little help please." A young lady spoke making the two men to look at her direction at the same time. They followed her and met a pile of fabrics packed neatly in big brown boxes. They were at the barracks, that is the only place to accommodate the fashion group.
"May, General wants to take a look." They've been able to rip some of the boxes apart for the fabrics. Some were very stubborn. That's what made them call for the General.
May moved her little self from the boxes for the General to take a look.
Both Richard and Stanley looked at the rest of the boxes. "It's heavily tapped. We need a bigger weapon." Stanley informed the group as if he was with his men.
"We are actually not on the battlefield." May said to him face to face. She seemed not care how many stars the guy's got.
"Sorry for that," Stanley apologized.
"Please work on what you have at the mean time. I'll call for a check up." General held the people's attention.
"May, please come with me."
"Remember I told you, a relative is also here." Stanley walked behind them. He was focused on the call he was making and did not hear a single word they were saying.
"Yes I remember. Where's he?" May asked enthusiastically.
"Behind you," Stanley was done with the call and overheard the last statement.
"Me?" He asked his grandpa who was beaming with smiles. They had stopped and May kept glancing at him.
"May remember Stanley. You two used to play together when you were little. You were very adorable,"
"We used to play tag and you would always tag me first because I couldn't ran faster." May completed Richard's outline.
"My childhood friend. Ares, it's really you." May crashed her small body against his mascular body forgetting about where they where.
Stanley froze, no one has ever called him that name for a while. Only his deceased parents and his childhood friend used to call him that.
'May....'
He did not hold her.