Selling clothing your wife created is tantamount to having her work out of the home. A real man would never allow such a thing.
—American Gazette
“Great job today,” the sergeant said.
Andrew kept his face blank, elated inside. He was proud of himself. His whole life he had known he’d make the perfect soldier, and now he was showing off his skills. Today Andrew had channeled his anger correctly. He was turning from a street fighter into a man with real proficiency. It was different from the work Andrew expected in the American armed forces, but here he had more of a purpose.
“Tomorrow we’ll move on to some basic weapon training,” the sergeant said.
The elation only grew inside Andrew. He was more than ready to learn a new skill.
“Sir, may I speak, sir?” Carter asked.
Andrew didn’t turn his head to look at him.
“Yes, Private,” the sergeant said.
“I do not feel that I have mastered hand-to-hand combat, sir,” Carter said. “I think it is important that I master one skill before moving on to the next, sir.”
The sergeant’s lips pressed into a smile. Andrew was jealous. He wanted the sergeant’s approval. He wanted to be the best soldier.
“Private Simpson,” the sergeant said. “How do you feel about this?”
“Sir,” Andrew said. “Private Rowe is correct. We should be perfect.”
The sergeant kept the smile but shook his head. He took a big breath before yelling, “Both of you, down on the ground. Push-ups, count out loud.”
Andrew reacted and hit the floor. He started counting out loud in perfect unison with Carter.
“When I give you an order you accept that order,” he said. “I am in charge. I set your training schedules. This isn’t some workout facility. This is the Mexico Militia.”
Anger returned to Andrew. He was a leader, not a follower. This was his fault; if he’d only spoken his true feelings instead of agreeing with Carter, the sergeant would have been praising him, not dishing out punishment.
“You call yourself soldiers,” the sergeant said. “A real soldier listens to his superiors. He doesn’t think he’s better than them.”
The two men continued doing their push-ups. Andrew felt like he could go for hours. He started raising his voice when he yelled the numbers out.
“Since you two aren’t ready yet, tomorrow we will start at day one. You will tour the facility and learn the basic commands all over again. Does that sound like fun?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Andrew said.
“How about you, Private Rowe?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Carter said.
“I didn’t stay stop,” the sergeant said.
Andrew continued his push-ups with newfound determination. If they were going back to their first days of training he would make them count. He had to, for Mia. Serving to the utmost of his ability was the best way he could honor her memory.