“This is great training,” McNirter, a former infantry drill sergeant said, spitting Copenhagen onto the sand, “These guys are really quick learners. Motivated as hell. Way better than the turds we got at Benning. A lot of these guys act like they've handled weapons their whole lives.”
When asked if the training techniques were any different than back in the States, McNirter replied, “Yeah, there's the whole language barrier and shit. And the discipline is different. Back at home all I could do is make 'em do pushups and flutter kicks. Here, if they fuck up, I hit them with a stick. Actually, I have the translator hit them with a stick. We're not allowed to.”
CPT Jason Kellsman was proud of the work his team had done.
“This area, there's a big gulf between Sunnis and Shiites. But all that has changed. The chief of police is a Shiite now, and his assistant is a Sunni. It's really brought the neighborhood closer together. Before all the police in this area had were rusty AKs. We gave them RPGs, Dishkas and Dragunovs, plus up-armored police trucks with RPKs on top. Plus the training we've given them is top-of-the-line. When we got here, they couldn't shoot straight. But after twelve weeks of range time, the latest optics and night-vision scopes, they're deadly. We've even given them matching uniforms. The insurgents had better watch out.”
General-in-Chief Ali Al-Salem and his assistant, Commissioner Captain Muhammed Hussein shared Kellsman's optimism, once their trainers had returned to their quarters.
“The instant the Americans leave we will start the slaughter anew,” Al-Salem said, glancing around, then taking his rifle off safe and resting it comfortably over his shoulder. “May the streets run red with Sunni blood.”
Even his assistant, Hussein?
“Especially him. The day the infidel Americans leave we shoot it out at high noon.”
Hussein nodded and smiled. “We'll do whatever it takes to get this training and the new weapons, even if it means associating with Shiite dogs. But when the Americans leave, it's how do you say? 'Game On, Bitches'. And these gay uniforms are gone. It's back to ski-masks and man-dresses."
The two comrades shook hands and headed back to the police station, another
hard day of training complete.
Back to Issue One