Eric is a war-hardened sergeant first class. He had seen it all, heard it all, and been through it all. As a young Private First Class, he had been drilled through the first years of the Iraq War. Now, he leads a platoon of good, young soldiers. After a sweltering summer in Fort Hood, Texas, he was ready to get out of the military. Four deployments and twelve years of service allowed him to hang up the dog tags. First, he had to ensure this last platoon of soldiers he had would be handed the tools to prosper and make a good life in the outside world. The soldiers of his current platoon were young, incredibly so. The average age of the forty-two soldiers was eighteen. He had three Non-commissioned Officers that were not all allowed to drink. "Shit. It looks like I have quite the young platoon this time." Eric says with a grimace.
The Army broke down chain of command into different echelons. It began with the Squad level. Squads typically consisted of four soldiers up to eight. Eric had seen some squads with up to eighteen soldiers in some companies he had been in, but such situations were usually a misnomer. Squads formed platoons, of which a company could have four to five. Platoons formed companies that could have up to six platoons. Companies formed battalions, that could have up to eight companies (in rare cases, a typical battalion had four to five companies). Battalions formed brigades, which typically had anywhere from four to six battalions. Brigades formed into divisions, and those typically had five to six brigades. Divisions formed corps, of which three to five divisions made corps. Lastly, the corps combined made the overall Army. The unit Eric is part of is a specialized Combined Arms Brigade. He is a senior Non-Commissioned Officer in the Military Intelligence Company attached to the 6th Brigade of the 7th Calvary Division. The brigade is deploying in three months, so Eric was assigned to the platoon he was currently in charge of last week. Initially, he planned on going to the retirement unit and being left in Rear-D, but he volunteered for one last deployment. These soldiers were all brilliant young soldiers, and he felt an obligation to be there. If he could help it, Eric didn't want to be a part of any more twenty one gun salutes.
Sitting back in his chair, Eric sees the first sergeant walking by. "Hey, Top, you got a second?" He calls out. The Military Intelligence community is small and interconnected, and the company's first sergeant was Eric's first NCO when he was a young soldier. The two knew each other well. "yeah, what's up, Dryer?" First Sergeant says as he comes into the room and shuts the door. "I'm going to be straight with you, First Sergeant; these kids are not ready," Eric says as he places his face in his hands, rubbing his face. The First Sergeant laughs at Eric and pats him on the back. "Neither were you, kid." He says jokingly as he reminisces about their deployment together. "Who would have thought that you and I would be going on our last deployment together?" The man says with a chuckle. "if you would have told those worry warts from back then that Sergeant Hamond and Private Dryer were gonna be a first sergeant and sergeant first class, one day, they woulda yelled at you." The First Sergeant pats Eric on the back and gets up. "You got this, bud. We have three months. Surely you can get these kids ready. Now, go home. I know you like to stay at work because your wife left, but you're still young. Get out there and live a little. If you dont, I'm gonna put my boot up your ass."
Fort Hood and its surrounding areas were a shithole. The only things to do were drink, get drunk, and pick up some STD-ridden whores at the bars or clubs. Most of those whores were usually soldiers' wives or girls willing to fuck just to have benefits once they got pregnant. There was a saying these days "show your dog tags to get laid, it won't be you that's getting paid." For Eric, his fun is to go out to the pool halls. He loved the feeling of beating drunk assholes at pool after they claimed they could beat "anyone and everyone." Tonight was no different, Eric chose his favorite pool hall, and was practicing by himself when his first victim came to the table. The other guy was your typical bar villain: tall with a beer belly, ripped sleeves on his shirt, and a mullet from hell. The guy had a big lip of Copenhagen in his mouth when he came up to Eric. "Howdy! My names Billy. I've watched ya shoot, and seen you were pretty good. Wanna play a few games? Maybe put some money on it?" Eric won all three games, eventually walking out with just under one thousand dollars. As he was walking to his car, three guys stopped in front of him, all with arms crossed. "oh come on! This is just typical. You guys aren't even hiding that you're no more than B-list villains. Nah, you're not even B-list. You're more likely C, or even D." Eric says to them with a laugh.
"I don't know who you are, boy, but I heard Billy say you gave him trouble. We're gonna want our money back." The man speaking was another caucasian guy: He was short, right around five feet four inches, with broad shoulders and a sprawling chest that seemed too big for his body. Eric laughed at that. "I beat your pal so bad he had to send three of you after me? Damn. Unfortunately for you fuckers... I'm a martial artist and a soldier." The three guys laughed at Eric. "We don't give a fuck. Hand over the money and no one gets hurt." The short guy said again. "oh? Hurt? What are you going to do to hurt me?" Eric says, continuing to egg the scum on.
"GET THIS GREASY PIG!" The short guy says. He was incensed. Before the goons could make a move though, Eric made his move. Eric was a big, bulky guy. Having loved the gym since he was fifteen, he had long, strong legs with built arms. He was six feet two of nothing but pure muscle. His blue eyes shined coldly as he punches the first guy in the side, and when the dude kneels over, Eric knocks him unconscious with a jab to the diaphragm. The second guy lands a hit on Erics jaw, but Eric stepped into the guard and landed a punch into his abdomen, then brought the guys face into his knee. Now bloodied from the hit, he turns to the third guy. "fuck you." is all Eric says before knocking the guy out with one punch.
"Fuck, I hope I don't lose rank because of this." Eric says as he looks up, seeing red lights in the distance. "That Billy guy must have called the cops." Eric says with a sigh.