Love on the Battlefield, chapter 1
(Authors' Note: Two authors, Ringo and Shelby, wrote this story [although it is under Ringo's name])
Joey's life story
Joey Armstrong sat alone in his tiny apartment in lower ward Oakland, his first time away from home for longer than a month. He managed to wean himself away from the celebrity lifestyle, endless amounts of money...and all the attention. A hard task, but it was accomplished.
Pulling up a blanket over his cold body, he started up his laptop, and decided to find some colleges.... or something in the sort to get him moving along in the boring schedule of life, leave the partying behind.
"Harvard.... hell no. Notre Dame.... Michigan...Washington...Army?" Joey gasped as he saw the Army logo on his screen. "Army...well...a step up.... literally free college...maybe!" Joey exclaimed. He printed out the sign up sheet, and whipped through it.
Making his way out of the cramped living room to his somewhat spacious bedroom, AKA, "bachelor pad" to set his alarm clock for 8 am to make his way to the recruitment center.
Elise's life story
Elise Drinty, an eighteen-year-old girl, sat alone on the corner of Kimberly Road. She had been sitting there for ten minutes now.
She lived in Warner Robins, Georgia. She ran away from her home, because of all the pressure on her shoulders, from her parents, and little sister. They kept pestering her to 'get a job' or 'get you own house.'
She got up and walked around, looking for 'Help Wanted' signs in store windows. There was still no luck. She found a newspaper lying on the ground. Picking it up, she read through it, trying to see if there were "Help Wanted" ads in it. Once again, there was no luck.
Turning the page she spotted: "War in Iraq- running out of troops." The title of this ad, in big, bold, black letters caught Elise's attention. She read through the ad, and took off to the recruitment center.
"How do I apply for the army?? If that makes sense..." Elise asked the nearest boy wondering the center. He had dark hair, and green eyes.
"You might want to ask him," the boy said, pointing to an office, covered in closed blinds.
Elise crept to the door and knocked.
"COME IN!" screamed the voice, "What do you want, kid?"
"I want to join the army," Elise said, determined to join.
"Now kid, the Army is very dangerous, to dangerous for a sixteen year old girl."
"I'm eighteen, sir. I'm homeless; I've been kicked out of school. Please sir, in the papers I saw that the army was short in troops."
The officer sat there for a moment, rubbing his face.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Positive, sir."
The officer handed Elise a form and a pen.
"I hope you can read and write," he said, chuckling at his on joke.
Elise tried to crack a smile as she sat at a table and began filling out the form.
"Name?" Elise mumbled to herself, "Elise Drinty. Age? Eighteen. Home address..." Elise sighed before writing, 'N/A.'
Joey's Life
The next morning, Joey Armstrong left a message at his parents house, notifying them of his departure...not to Iraq, not yet, but to the recruitment center.
As he walked through the door, a bell tinkled, the somewhat welcoming sign. He gazed around, seeing pictures and posters, stand-ups and Army T-shirts polka dotting the room.
Slowly, he made his way up to the front desk, casually resting his elbow on it.
"Hi, I'm here to register for the army?" he said.
"Fill this out, and turn it in, and you'll get a response in 24 hours," the male clerk hastily shoved a few papers towards Joey. "You also get this "Welcome to the Army" kit. Have fun while you're out there," he bluntly concluded.
"Thanks..." Joey muttered, as he took a seat in the uncomfortably firm sofa nearby. Some other hopeful recruits came in after Joey did.
Thirty minutes later, and writing his signature over 20 times, he headed out the door, giving a slight nod to the clerk, who gave a grim frown back. Maybe, he too, was going to Iraq.
Elise
Elise walked into the center with a smile on her face, and the paper stating that she was accepted into the army. She had gone back home to pack her things, and get her letter.
"Welcome back, Miss Drinty."
"Could you please just call me Elise?"
"Umm.. Sure! And you can call me Sarge. Right this way please!"
Elise followed the Sarge into another room filled with all kinds of uniforms, from soldier to Captain uniforms, and guns to blank dog tags, and even an engraver in that same room.
"Here!" he said, handing her different sized outfits, "Try these on, and tell me which one fits you best. Remember, they can't be skin tight."
"OK," Elise said, going into the changing room. She preferred baggy cloths, so this was the right choice for her future after all.
After about twenty minutes, Elise finally came out in a uniform.
"Perfect fit Elise."
"Thanks Sarge."
"Now, your gonna go board the plane that takes you to the camp for training. You'll learn-"
"I read the form, Sarge, I know what I'll be learning at camp," Elise said.
"OK then. just wait in there with the other troops, and remember to get on the plane with the girls," Sarge said, leading Elise to a room.
In the Boarding Area
"Umm... HI!" Elise said, hoping to start a conversation.
"Hi... aren't you supposed to be over on the boys' side?" asked some girl who was apparently the queen of bitches.
"OH! I'm sorry! I thought this WAS the boys' side, I must have looked at you and got mixed up," Elise said.
"OH!! You bitch!!" screamed the girl, who slapped Elise. All Elise did was pull back her fist, and punched the girl in her face. The guys on the other side started screaming 'WHOO' and, 'CAT-FIGHT.' With all the yelling and screaming brought the Sarge in the room.
"WOAH! WOAH! Elise! Save it for the battlefield, OK?" by then, there was three or four guys trying to pull Elise off the girl. Elise stood up, brushed her hands on her pants, and glared at the girl.
"Yes, Sarge."
"Anywho, the planes are here. Time to board!"
Elise grabbed her bag, and sat in the back seat.
3 hours Later
At The Training Camp
Elise got off the plane, and then headed to a group of girls, hoping that they were surrounding the trainer.
"Not You again, boy." It was one of those girls who was crowding around the Queen of B's.
"Yeah, it's me, and you better recognize."
The camp was filled with ooh's. The girl did exactly as the last, except slapped like a drunk girl that was in a mental institution, and Elise did exactly as she did to the last girl who tried to take her on. She jumped on the girl and began punching the girl's face.
"HEY! It hasn't even been three minutes since you've arrived, and you're already fighting?? Well, I hope you're happy, because you two have earned everyone here thirty laps around the camp."
Girls in every direction were giving Elise glares and stares. Elise just shook it off, then began to jog.
After she ran her thirty laps, she went to find her room that she was staying in.
"Hey, Girl!" Elise turned around and saw her new trainer walking towards her.
"I heard that you also got into a fight while you were waiting for the plane. Only two more fights like those, and I'm gonna have to transfer you to a new camp. You tent is over there."
Elise got an idea, and decided that she would be out of this camp by tomorrow. She didn't even unpack her few items, instead she went walking around the camp until someone insulted her.
"HEY! You're that girl who ruined my makeup!"
"Well, I hope you know that once you run out of makeup, you'll HAVE to show what your face looks like. I mean, if it can even be called a face." Once again, a fight broke out. This girl had toughened up a bit, either that, or she was a girl who looked like the Queen of B's.
Only two hours after that fight, Elise started one last fight, and was ordered to pack her things and head out to the plane awaiting her.
Joey
Joey sat next to a real buff African man who went by Be-Bop, didn't tell his real name, but was an all out jazz fan.
"Ever heard of Wyton Myarsalis?" Be-Bop asked Joey.
"Nope. The Ramones?" Joey asked.
"Nope. Louis Armstrong?" he gave Joey a quizzical look.
"Who?" Joey chuckled. "Seriously, you've had to have heard of this band: U2?"
"Yeah. That one song...Vertigo, was it? I almost barfed." Be-Bop stuck his tongue out and made a gagging sound.
"So I guess you don't like rap either, huh?" Joey laughed; he himself despised rap for its messed up 'Hey! Here! Look at me! I'm in love with a stripper, and overly high on meth! And I got a gun! I wanna shoot myself!' lyrics.
"Want me to shoot myself with a .36? People don't know what music is. Banging your head on the wall ain't music," he stated.
"Well, we got something in common besides football and going to the army, right?" Joey said.
"You know kid? I think you're cool. At least you ain't a dumbass," Be-Bop concluded.
6 Hours later and landing in Iraq.
"I am your Sergeant, you will call me Sir, or Sarge, and here, you'll get your ass kicked! This is Iraq! This is boot camp! No sissy's welcome! I sure hope you gosh damn well understood when you filled out those papers that this ain't no daycare, act like MEN! Now get your Asses in your tents, set up, and be back HERE at 1500 hours SHARP!" the Sarge yelled at full pitch.
"SIR YES SIR!" we yelled back.
I glanced around, taking in the surroundings. Clutching my gun, and my heart throbbing, I saw a girl talking to some of the guys. Was there actually a chick in a man's Boot Camp? I slapped myself. Nope, not a mirage.
Elise
When Elise woke up, she was laying on a couch.
"Morning recruit."
"Where am I?" Elise asked, shaking her head.
"You're at your new training camp."
"I thought that the boot camps for girls had a female trainer."
"They do, but you were sent to a males' camp. Your last trainer and I thought that if someone out here whooped your ass, you would straighten yourself out. Now, get your stuff. You're sharing a tent with... Mr. Armstrong... if I hear about some lollygagging, you will be kicked out of the army!"
"SIR YES SIR!"
Elise left the Sarge's camp and walked outside. She walked to a group of guys and asked where Mr. Armstrong's tent was. They all pointed to a guy with short, dark hair, sporting dog tags and a Yankees' baseball cap, pulled backwards, and his gun. 'Why did he just slap himself??' she thought.
*No one's POV
"Holy shit! She's walkin' this way!" Joey thought. He panicked a bit, and ran back inside his tent. Elise ran after him.
"Wait! Dude! Are you Armstrong?" she yelled, her suitcases banging at her sides as she ran up to him.
"Uh, uh, yeah..." Joey stuttered. He ran his hand through his freshly cut, short black hair. Her heart throbbed.
Elise thought, 'Love at first sight? No... I've never been in love, yuck!'
"You Ok?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at his stuttering, and truly obvious over-sweating.
"Um, yeah, its just REALLY hot here!" Joey exclaimed, over emphasizing the word 'really'.
"Right. Anywho, I'm Elise. I'll be your, how do I put it... tent buddy?" Elise laughed. She stuck out her hand.
"Joey," he stated. Joey couldn't believe it! He was gonna sleep in the SAME tent with the girl that made his heart throb like never before. Scratching his head, he then also put out his hand, and they shook. 'Her hands are so soft,' he thought. 'Snap out of it! She's a colleague! She can probably kick your ass!' he rethought. It was most likely the truth. Why else would she be in with the rest of men? There was a girl's camp, and they hadn't been there for any longer than 4 hours. Already transferred camps in 4 hours. 'Shit, she's a bad-ass!' Joey thought.
"Yoo-hoo!" Elise said, laughing. "You still on earth?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah... umm... jet lag getting to me," Joey lied. 'I'm such a genius!' he thought.
"I see... well, we better be going, or else Sarge is gonna whoop our asses. C'mon!" Elise said, pulling on Joey's arm to get him moving again. Joey followed with no resistance.
'Maybe Iraq won't be so bad after all...' Joey thought.
Joey's POV
"GET DOWN AND GIVE ME FUCKIN THIRTY!" Sarge spat at everyone. This happened now, hey, about 30 times a day... doing the math, about 900 push ups daily...shit! No wonder my arms hurt so much! But hey, chicks dig 'guns', am I right?
Joey's life story
Joey Armstrong sat alone in his tiny apartment in lower ward Oakland, his first time away from home for longer than a month. He managed to wean himself away from the celebrity lifestyle, endless amounts of money...and all the attention. A hard task, but it was accomplished.
Pulling up a blanket over his cold body, he started up his laptop, and decided to find some colleges.... or something in the sort to get him moving along in the boring schedule of life, leave the partying behind.
"Harvard.... hell no. Notre Dame.... Michigan...Washington...Army?" Joey gasped as he saw the Army logo on his screen. "Army...well...a step up.... literally free college...maybe!" Joey exclaimed. He printed out the sign up sheet, and whipped through it.
Making his way out of the cramped living room to his somewhat spacious bedroom, AKA, "bachelor pad" to set his alarm clock for 8 am to make his way to the recruitment center.
Elise's life story
Elise Drinty, an eighteen-year-old girl, sat alone on the corner of Kimberly Road. She had been sitting there for ten minutes now.
She lived in Warner Robins, Georgia. She ran away from her home, because of all the pressure on her shoulders, from her parents, and little sister. They kept pestering her to 'get a job' or 'get you own house.'
She got up and walked around, looking for 'Help Wanted' signs in store windows. There was still no luck. She found a newspaper lying on the ground. Picking it up, she read through it, trying to see if there were "Help Wanted" ads in it. Once again, there was no luck.
Turning the page she spotted: "War in Iraq- running out of troops." The title of this ad, in big, bold, black letters caught Elise's attention. She read through the ad, and took off to the recruitment center.
"How do I apply for the army?? If that makes sense..." Elise asked the nearest boy wondering the center. He had dark hair, and green eyes.
"You might want to ask him," the boy said, pointing to an office, covered in closed blinds.
Elise crept to the door and knocked.
"COME IN!" screamed the voice, "What do you want, kid?"
"I want to join the army," Elise said, determined to join.
"Now kid, the Army is very dangerous, to dangerous for a sixteen year old girl."
"I'm eighteen, sir. I'm homeless; I've been kicked out of school. Please sir, in the papers I saw that the army was short in troops."
The officer sat there for a moment, rubbing his face.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Positive, sir."
The officer handed Elise a form and a pen.
"I hope you can read and write," he said, chuckling at his on joke.
Elise tried to crack a smile as she sat at a table and began filling out the form.
"Name?" Elise mumbled to herself, "Elise Drinty. Age? Eighteen. Home address..." Elise sighed before writing, 'N/A.'
Joey's Life
The next morning, Joey Armstrong left a message at his parents house, notifying them of his departure...not to Iraq, not yet, but to the recruitment center.
As he walked through the door, a bell tinkled, the somewhat welcoming sign. He gazed around, seeing pictures and posters, stand-ups and Army T-shirts polka dotting the room.
Slowly, he made his way up to the front desk, casually resting his elbow on it.
"Hi, I'm here to register for the army?" he said.
"Fill this out, and turn it in, and you'll get a response in 24 hours," the male clerk hastily shoved a few papers towards Joey. "You also get this "Welcome to the Army" kit. Have fun while you're out there," he bluntly concluded.
"Thanks..." Joey muttered, as he took a seat in the uncomfortably firm sofa nearby. Some other hopeful recruits came in after Joey did.
Thirty minutes later, and writing his signature over 20 times, he headed out the door, giving a slight nod to the clerk, who gave a grim frown back. Maybe, he too, was going to Iraq.
Elise
Elise walked into the center with a smile on her face, and the paper stating that she was accepted into the army. She had gone back home to pack her things, and get her letter.
"Welcome back, Miss Drinty."
"Could you please just call me Elise?"
"Umm.. Sure! And you can call me Sarge. Right this way please!"
Elise followed the Sarge into another room filled with all kinds of uniforms, from soldier to Captain uniforms, and guns to blank dog tags, and even an engraver in that same room.
"Here!" he said, handing her different sized outfits, "Try these on, and tell me which one fits you best. Remember, they can't be skin tight."
"OK," Elise said, going into the changing room. She preferred baggy cloths, so this was the right choice for her future after all.
After about twenty minutes, Elise finally came out in a uniform.
"Perfect fit Elise."
"Thanks Sarge."
"Now, your gonna go board the plane that takes you to the camp for training. You'll learn-"
"I read the form, Sarge, I know what I'll be learning at camp," Elise said.
"OK then. just wait in there with the other troops, and remember to get on the plane with the girls," Sarge said, leading Elise to a room.
In the Boarding Area
"Umm... HI!" Elise said, hoping to start a conversation.
"Hi... aren't you supposed to be over on the boys' side?" asked some girl who was apparently the queen of bitches.
"OH! I'm sorry! I thought this WAS the boys' side, I must have looked at you and got mixed up," Elise said.
"OH!! You bitch!!" screamed the girl, who slapped Elise. All Elise did was pull back her fist, and punched the girl in her face. The guys on the other side started screaming 'WHOO' and, 'CAT-FIGHT.' With all the yelling and screaming brought the Sarge in the room.
"WOAH! WOAH! Elise! Save it for the battlefield, OK?" by then, there was three or four guys trying to pull Elise off the girl. Elise stood up, brushed her hands on her pants, and glared at the girl.
"Yes, Sarge."
"Anywho, the planes are here. Time to board!"
Elise grabbed her bag, and sat in the back seat.
3 hours Later
At The Training Camp
Elise got off the plane, and then headed to a group of girls, hoping that they were surrounding the trainer.
"Not You again, boy." It was one of those girls who was crowding around the Queen of B's.
"Yeah, it's me, and you better recognize."
The camp was filled with ooh's. The girl did exactly as the last, except slapped like a drunk girl that was in a mental institution, and Elise did exactly as she did to the last girl who tried to take her on. She jumped on the girl and began punching the girl's face.
"HEY! It hasn't even been three minutes since you've arrived, and you're already fighting?? Well, I hope you're happy, because you two have earned everyone here thirty laps around the camp."
Girls in every direction were giving Elise glares and stares. Elise just shook it off, then began to jog.
After she ran her thirty laps, she went to find her room that she was staying in.
"Hey, Girl!" Elise turned around and saw her new trainer walking towards her.
"I heard that you also got into a fight while you were waiting for the plane. Only two more fights like those, and I'm gonna have to transfer you to a new camp. You tent is over there."
Elise got an idea, and decided that she would be out of this camp by tomorrow. She didn't even unpack her few items, instead she went walking around the camp until someone insulted her.
"HEY! You're that girl who ruined my makeup!"
"Well, I hope you know that once you run out of makeup, you'll HAVE to show what your face looks like. I mean, if it can even be called a face." Once again, a fight broke out. This girl had toughened up a bit, either that, or she was a girl who looked like the Queen of B's.
Only two hours after that fight, Elise started one last fight, and was ordered to pack her things and head out to the plane awaiting her.
Joey
Joey sat next to a real buff African man who went by Be-Bop, didn't tell his real name, but was an all out jazz fan.
"Ever heard of Wyton Myarsalis?" Be-Bop asked Joey.
"Nope. The Ramones?" Joey asked.
"Nope. Louis Armstrong?" he gave Joey a quizzical look.
"Who?" Joey chuckled. "Seriously, you've had to have heard of this band: U2?"
"Yeah. That one song...Vertigo, was it? I almost barfed." Be-Bop stuck his tongue out and made a gagging sound.
"So I guess you don't like rap either, huh?" Joey laughed; he himself despised rap for its messed up 'Hey! Here! Look at me! I'm in love with a stripper, and overly high on meth! And I got a gun! I wanna shoot myself!' lyrics.
"Want me to shoot myself with a .36? People don't know what music is. Banging your head on the wall ain't music," he stated.
"Well, we got something in common besides football and going to the army, right?" Joey said.
"You know kid? I think you're cool. At least you ain't a dumbass," Be-Bop concluded.
6 Hours later and landing in Iraq.
"I am your Sergeant, you will call me Sir, or Sarge, and here, you'll get your ass kicked! This is Iraq! This is boot camp! No sissy's welcome! I sure hope you gosh damn well understood when you filled out those papers that this ain't no daycare, act like MEN! Now get your Asses in your tents, set up, and be back HERE at 1500 hours SHARP!" the Sarge yelled at full pitch.
"SIR YES SIR!" we yelled back.
I glanced around, taking in the surroundings. Clutching my gun, and my heart throbbing, I saw a girl talking to some of the guys. Was there actually a chick in a man's Boot Camp? I slapped myself. Nope, not a mirage.
Elise
When Elise woke up, she was laying on a couch.
"Morning recruit."
"Where am I?" Elise asked, shaking her head.
"You're at your new training camp."
"I thought that the boot camps for girls had a female trainer."
"They do, but you were sent to a males' camp. Your last trainer and I thought that if someone out here whooped your ass, you would straighten yourself out. Now, get your stuff. You're sharing a tent with... Mr. Armstrong... if I hear about some lollygagging, you will be kicked out of the army!"
"SIR YES SIR!"
Elise left the Sarge's camp and walked outside. She walked to a group of guys and asked where Mr. Armstrong's tent was. They all pointed to a guy with short, dark hair, sporting dog tags and a Yankees' baseball cap, pulled backwards, and his gun. 'Why did he just slap himself??' she thought.
*No one's POV
"Holy shit! She's walkin' this way!" Joey thought. He panicked a bit, and ran back inside his tent. Elise ran after him.
"Wait! Dude! Are you Armstrong?" she yelled, her suitcases banging at her sides as she ran up to him.
"Uh, uh, yeah..." Joey stuttered. He ran his hand through his freshly cut, short black hair. Her heart throbbed.
Elise thought, 'Love at first sight? No... I've never been in love, yuck!'
"You Ok?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at his stuttering, and truly obvious over-sweating.
"Um, yeah, its just REALLY hot here!" Joey exclaimed, over emphasizing the word 'really'.
"Right. Anywho, I'm Elise. I'll be your, how do I put it... tent buddy?" Elise laughed. She stuck out her hand.
"Joey," he stated. Joey couldn't believe it! He was gonna sleep in the SAME tent with the girl that made his heart throb like never before. Scratching his head, he then also put out his hand, and they shook. 'Her hands are so soft,' he thought. 'Snap out of it! She's a colleague! She can probably kick your ass!' he rethought. It was most likely the truth. Why else would she be in with the rest of men? There was a girl's camp, and they hadn't been there for any longer than 4 hours. Already transferred camps in 4 hours. 'Shit, she's a bad-ass!' Joey thought.
"Yoo-hoo!" Elise said, laughing. "You still on earth?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah... umm... jet lag getting to me," Joey lied. 'I'm such a genius!' he thought.
"I see... well, we better be going, or else Sarge is gonna whoop our asses. C'mon!" Elise said, pulling on Joey's arm to get him moving again. Joey followed with no resistance.
'Maybe Iraq won't be so bad after all...' Joey thought.
Joey's POV
"GET DOWN AND GIVE ME FUCKIN THIRTY!" Sarge spat at everyone. This happened now, hey, about 30 times a day... doing the math, about 900 push ups daily...shit! No wonder my arms hurt so much! But hey, chicks dig 'guns', am I right?
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