Grafenwoeher, Germany
August 19th, 2013
1300 hrs
The airport terminal buzzed with activity as Nixon Cannard stood by the baggage claim, waiting anxiously for his sponsor to pick him up. It had been a long 24 hours of travel, he had been scheduled for a flight with numerous layovers, and he was exhausted and sweaty. The man brushed his loose dark locks from his eyes, and he just knew that his deep brown eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion. He glanced at his watch, feeling a twinge of impatience as the minutes ticked by. He had been waiting at the baggage claim for awhile, his sponsor had said that he was on the way but... Man his patience was running out. Nixon tapped eagerly on the handle of his suitcase, and just when he was starting to wonder if his sponsor had forgotten about him, a voice called out his name.
"Staff Sergeant Cannard?"
Nixon turned to see a man in uniform approaching him, a warm smile on his face. "That's me," Nixon replied, extending his hand. The man shook it firmly. "Sergeant First Class Reynolds, at your service. I'll be your sponsor during your time here in Germany." Reynolds was about his height and looked somewhere in his late 30’s, his forehead streaked with prominent wrinkles and his bright orange mustache just slightly out of regulation. Nonetheless, it was great to finally be getting somewhere.
Nixon felt a wave of relief wash over him as he followed Reynolds out of the airport and towards the parking lot. As they drove through the streets of Germany, Reynolds filled Nixon in on what to expect at his new unit, the 45th Military Police Company. "They're a good group of guys," Reynolds said, his tone reassuring. "You'll fit right in. Unfortunately us sergeants still have to stay in the barracks out here, but you should be fine. As long as you keep your nose outta trouble all will be well. We’ll stop by the company in a bit so you can sign in, then I’ll take you over to the B’s so you can settle down and get acquainted with your surroundings. Sound good?”
“Roger that.”
The car ride was mostly silent, until Reynolds spoke up once more.
“Where ya from, kiddo?”
“California, Sergeant.”
“No no… Where’s your accent from?”
“Oh!” Nixon said with a bit of a start. “Russia. I’m from Kaluga, not far from Moscow. Sorry, I don’t usually get many people who ask.” This wasn't an uncommon question, but the question still threw him off sometimes. When he first joined the Army, his accent was much thicker and he struggled to communicate with his peers. Half of the time, his drill sergeants belittled him due to their lack of understanding and his Russian roots being a point of contention. Nowadays, he was easily understood, though his accent still prominent.
“All is well! We don’t get a lot of Russian speakers out here… You CID?”
“Uh… No.” Nixon cocked an eyebrow.
“Love to hear it. We’ll get along just fine!”
When they arrived at the unit, Nixon's nerves returned. He stepped out of the car and glanced around, taking in the sight of soldiers going about their duties with practiced efficiency. It was the middle of the duty day and it was a busy one. Nixon followed SFC Reynolds in, where he promptly signed in, received his room keys, and was told to report at 0700 the next day for inprocessing. Reynolds agreed to show Nixon to his barracks building and as they left the building, Nixon couldn’t help but look around and observe. It was a bright day, the German base could have reminded him of his home in Russia if he thought about it-
Wait a damn minute.
Nixon was snapped out of his thoughts by some loud, boastful laughter and when he looked in the same direction, he spotted him: Nathan Brier, leaning casually against a nearby humvee. His uniform jacket was off, which left him in just his tan t-shirt, his dirty blond hair falling in front of his face (out of regulation but it was a hot day, it didn’t matter too much.) His tanned skin glistened with sweat, and Nixon watched as he took a tattooed arm to his forehead, wiping away a few drops of sweat while he chatted with some of his soldiers. Nixon's eyes widened as Nathan seemed to catch wind of his staring, and a grin spread across Nathan's face as he seemed to recognize Nixon as well. ‘What the hell?’
“Am I dreaming? Is that you Cannard? Ha! No shit?!” Nathan pushed himself off the humvee and began lightly jogging over, his dog tags jingling on his pocket as he moved. “Brier? No fuckin' way!” Nixon's heart skipped a beat as he made his way towards Nathan, feeling a surge of emotion at the sight of his old friend. These two had been through damn near their entire careers together, making it through Basic Combat Training, Military Police school, and even Ranger school together. They were almost in Air Assault school together but Nixon had forgotten a red pen so he got pushed back a few classes. These two have seen the best and the worst of each other, shared blood sweat and tears in the span of years. They had both gotten stationed separately for a few years, and it was pure luck that they managed to come together again. Nathan's grin widened as they drew closer, and without a word, they fell into a tight embrace, the years of separation melting away in an instant.
“If it isn’t my favorite commie, long time no see!" Nathan exclaimed, clapping Nixon on the back as he pulled back. "You look like you've been through the wringer." Nixon chuckled, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders at the familiar banter. Nixon clapped Nathan on the shoulder, his hand remaining on his bicep. "You're not looking too shabby yourself, Brier. It's good to see you." Nathan peeked behind Nixon at Reynolds, offering an enthusiastic wave. “What’s goin’ on, sarn’t?” His southern drawl strong as he said so, a bright smile wrung across his cheeks.
“Ahhh nothing much Brier, just escorting SSG Cannard around the unit. We were just headed to the barracks so he could drop his stuff off.”
“Drop it off?! You just gettin’ here, Cannard?” Brier’s deep blue eyes widened as he peered at Nixon’s duffel bag at his side. “Actually yeah, you trying to come by?”
“Shiiiii- would I! I can’t though, we’re about to start patrols.” Brier jabbed his thumb to the pack of black humvees over his shoulder, all already occupied. However, he clapped Nixon on the shoulder, his smile as bright as ever. “You still got my number though, right? Text me and swing by my room later, we’ll catch up! It’s great to have a familiar face out here.” Just then, a sharp whistle sounded behind him, followed by a soldier poking his helmeted head from one of the humvee windows. “Sarn’t, we’re starting the patrol. Waiting on you!”
“N’aww shit- Okay see ya around Cannard! Hey, don’t you fuckin’ forget to text me.” Nathan began turning towards the vehicles but held his finger adamantly pointing at the dark haired male. “I have the personnel rosters, I WILL FIND YOU!”
“Okay okay!” Nixon chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’ll text. Hell, I’ll text you on the way there!”
“Great! Bye Cannard!!” And with that, Nathan turned around and jogged back over to the vehicle. Nixon watched as he snatched his jacket and helmet from the hood of the humvee, throwing them both on as he hopped in the vehicle. Nathan poked his head out one last time, “Cannard! I MEAN IT!”
“OKAYY!” Nixon let out a loud laugh, shaking his head and turned around. Reynolds had a similar smile on his face, one that showed how accustomed he had become to Nathan’s goofiness. “What a kid. C’mon sergeant, let's get you settled in.” Nixon nodded and followed along with SFC Reynolds, his mind abuzz at the fact that he already had a close friend here. This assignment was going to be just fine.
-
Grafenwoeher, Germany
August 19th, 2013
1400 hrs
Nixon had made his way to his room, and he had to admit that it was actually pretty nice. The central common area was spacious and welcoming, serving as a shared space for socializing. The walls were painted a calming shade of light gray, and the floor was covered in polished linoleum, making the space easy to maintain. The large windows allow natural light to flood the room during the day, creating an airy and open atmosphere. Heavy-duty blinds provided the option to block out light and ensure privacy when needed. A kitchenette was situated in one corner of the common area, equipped with a fridge, microwave, and a medium sized oven and stove top. Above the kitchenette, a few cabinets provided additional storage for food, dishes, and utensils. Adjacent to the kitchenette was a small dining table with four chairs. The common area also featured a shared desk space against one wall, with two workstations and comfortable office chairs. Each desk was equipped with built-in drawers and shelves, providing ample storage for documents, electronics, and other essentials. Desk lamps ensured adequate lighting for late-night study sessions or writing letters home. Off the common area were two separate private rooms, each offering a personal retreat for its occupant. Nixon’s was to the left, and it didn’t look like he had a roommate. ‘Thank goodness,” Nixon thought to himself. He didn’t mind having a roommate, but it was wonderful to be able to have his own privacy. He was a reserved man who liked his peace, could you blame him? The walls were painted in a soothing neutral color, and the floors were covered in durable carpeting. Inside his room, a twin-sized bed with a sturdy metal frame was neatly made with standard-issue green blankets and crisp white sheets. The bed was raised off the ground, providing storage space underneath for personal belongings. A wooden nightstand beside the bed held a singular lamp.A large, double-door wardrobe in his room provided plenty of space for hanging uniforms and storing folded clothes, boots, and other essentials. The wardrobe was made of dark wood, adding a touch of warmth to the space. Each room also had its own small desk and chair, offering a private workspace separate from the common area. Overall, the room was well made and comfortable, which set Nixon’s mind at ease. He made his way to his room and immediately dropped his bags, heaving a sigh as he plopped onto his bed. “Finally…” He murmured to himself, flopping on his side and taking out his phone. He had a few messages, his mom and dad had both texted him as well as some buddies. He first opened his mother’s message;
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Ty sdelal eto bezopasnym, synok?”
-Did you make it safe, son?
Nixon typed out a quick response.
“Da, mam, spasibo, chto sprosila. YA pozvonyu tebe i pape pozzhe.”
-Yes mom, thank you for asking. I will call you and dad later.
Nixon then moved onto his father, who spoke in a similar regard.
Syn moy, ya davno nichego o tebe ne slyshal. YA nadeyus', chto vashe puteshestviye proshlo khorosho. My s tvoyey mamoy s neterpeniyem zhdem tvoyego otveta, kogda ty pribudesh' v Germaniyu. Luchshe zastav' nas gordit'sya.
Ot tvoyego ottsa.
-My son, I haven't heard from you in a bit. I hope that your travels have been well. Your mother and I look forward to hearing from you when you land in Germany. You better make us proud.
From, Your father.
Goodness. Why did his father have to speak as if it was a business exchange? Nixon was his 23 year old son, not his employee. Growing up, the two never truly got along, as Nixon was never keen on the family… business. His father had high expectations that were damn near impossible to meet, and he never held back when it came to voicing his disappointment. That’s why he left in the first place, to find somewhere where he could be praised for the work he put in. The ‘you better make us proud” was rather necessary, Nixon thought to himself, but he responded nonetheless.
Spasibo, chto zaglyanul, papa. YA pozvonyu pozzhe.
-Thanks for checking in dad. I will call later.
As Nixon went to open another message, a familiar name popped up with a message:
CANNARD! What room number are you?!?!
It was Nathan. ‘Of course, as soon as I get in..’ Nixon chuckled, amused by the other’s enthusiastic message. Nathan has always been like that, determined and serious when it came to his work but surprisingly bubbly when it came to his friends. It was comforting to have a friend at his unit already, and even better since it was him. They hadn’t spoken in a few years, so he was eager to catch up. Nixon responded with his room number, and within a minute of sending the message, he heard a pounding at his door. Before he could even say anything, he heard his door swing open, and a loud chipper voice,
“Oh honeyyyyy!!! I’m HOMEEEE!!!!” The sound of plastic bags rustling and glass bottles dropping to the floor could be heard, and Nixon’s eyes widened. How the hell did he find him so quick?! “Jeez Bri, don’t you have anything better to do?” Nixon called out, opening the door to his common room.
Nathan stood there, grinning from ear to ear, his arms laden with bags of Chinese takeout. On the ground were two 6 packs of beer. “Not when I know my best buddy just landed,” he said, dropping the bags onto the small table in the center of the room. “I figured you’d be starving and in desperate need of some decent food after that flight. I let my troops go home early since they got all their stuff done and I had some other priorities to attend to.” It made sense, since Nathan seemed to have already changed. Instead of his uniform, he was now clad in a black gym tank and blue basketball shorts. Nathan seemed a lot more toned than when they last saw each other, and a lot more tan since it was still summer. His previous slicked back blond hair now looked ruffled, slightly falling in front of his deep blue eyes. Nathan Brier was a handsome dude, Nixon couldn’t deny that. He had always been the extrovert of the two, coming up with the most random schemes on their nights out and planning all of the events. He was your average American soldier, professional in uniform but not afraid to be a goofball outside of it.
Nixon shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “You always know how to make an entrance.”
Nathan shrugged, his smile never fading. “What can I say? I’ve got a gift.” He pulled out containers of various dishes, the smell of warm food quickly filling the room. “Come on, sit down. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
As they settled at the table, Nathan handed Nixon a set of chopsticks. “So, tell me everything. How was the flight? How’s Texas been treating you? That's where you were, right?”
Nixon took a moment to gather his thoughts, as well as his chopsticks Nathan was right, he was STARVING. “The flight was long, service sucked and I need a shower desperately but I’m just glad to be here. Texas was... alright. Busy. I was really focused on my work, so I didn’t have much time for anything else.” The dark haired Russian responded, already beginning to scarf down his food. Nathan was an angel, bringing dishes of chow mein, dumplings, and orange chicken galore.
Nathan nodded, his eyes full of understanding. “I get that. It’s been crazy here too, but I’m glad we’re finally in the same place again.” He paused, studying Nixon’s face. “You look different, you know. More serious.” He frowned slightly. “You good bud?”
Nixon laughed, though there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Life has a way of doing that to you. Also I may have uh… Totally got ‘Jodyed’ right before I got here.” He said with a sad sort of chuckle. Nixon was referring to the fact that right before he left Texas, a woman whom he had been seeing had, out of nowhere, decided that they were “no longer the right match.” It had thrown Nixon all the way off, especially since she had been the one to suggest that they continue their relationship long distance. It wasn’t the most serious relationship, them only having been together for a few months… But Nixon knew that she had found someone else, and he was more upset by the audacity than anything. Nathan’s expression softened and he tilted his head slightly. “Hey, we’re gonna make the most of this. We’ve got each other’s backs, just like always.”
They dug into the food, the conversation flowing easily between them. They talked about old times, shared stories from their respective deployments, and reminisced about their days in training together. It felt good to laugh again, to be in the company of someone who understood him so completely.
It wasn’t until after they finished their food and they began to crack into the beer cases that Nixon asked, “Bri, How’s Vanessa and little Nate doing? Last time I saw Nate he was still in swaddles!” Vanessa was Nathan’s wife, whom he had met when they first went to the police academy. Nixon had remembered how smitten they had been, how excited Nate had been when he introduced them. She was beautiful, with long golden hair and big gorgeous brown eyes. She was a southern belle like Nate, both of them with matching accents, and it wasn’t long until Nate announced their engagement, and soon their future son. Nixon noticed the subtle shift in his friend's demeanor when the subject was brought up, the shadow of a smile masking deeper emotions that Nathan seemed unwilling to confront. “Hey man, today ain't about me! Today is about you getting here. Why sweat the heavy stuff?” Realizing how quick and awkward he was to respond, Nathan sighed. “It could be better, but I’ll tell you about that another day. For now, let's focus on the good stuff ahead, yeah?”
Nixon nodded, a sense of curiosity yet relief washing over him. “Yeah, let’s do that.” No matter how curious he was, he didn’t want to pry into Nathan’s business on their first day back together. He respected the other’s feelings, and thus proceeded like nothing had happened. The two proceeded to converse over a few beers, Nixon’s mind filled with peaceful and hilarious memories.
-
Grafenwoeher, Germany
Autumn of 2013
As the weeks passed, Nixon and Nathan fell into a comfortable routine at the 45th Military Police Company. They spent their downtime catching up on lost time, immersing themselves in various video games and adventures in order to reconnect. They ended up spending so much time together that at one point, their soldiers started calling each other “uncle.” Nixon didn’t care though, it had been forever since he had seen one of his best friends and being able to have someone dear be so close in a new location was wonderful.
Nixon found solace in the familiarity of his new unit, gradually adjusting to the rhythm of military life in Germany. Nixon would often do patrols around the post with his soldiers, who he had begun to grow close to. It also turned out that Nathan and him were in separate platoons, both taking on leadership roles within their teams. This was often a topic of discussion, from work gripes to boasting about their soldiers. There was one day in particular where Nathan came into the motorpool beaming, and when Nixon asked why he proudly responded, “that soldier, Specialist Robbins, that I was talking about? WON HIS COURT MARTIAL! So damn proud of that kid.” There was no one more enthusiastic about soldier care than Nathan, and Nixon couldn’t help but admire him for that. With Reynolds' guidance, he navigated the ins and outs of his duties with confidence, and before he knew it he began to feel right at home.
Meanwhile, Nathan took it upon himself to show Nixon the best that Germany had to offer, eager to share his love for the country with his friend. They spent their weekends exploring quaint villages and hiking through picturesque forests, soaking in the sights and sounds of their new surroundings. Nathan had a knack for taking pictures, always insisting on setting up his polaroid to take pictures of them. Just to be annoying, Nathan would sneak goofily angled pictures of Nixon, whether he was eating or struggling up a hill on their hikes. At this point, Nathan had about 15 of the ugliest pictures of Nixon known to man. But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, there was one topic that Nathan tended to avoid. No matter how gently Nathan tried to ask about Vanessa, Nathan never answered, either ignoring the question completely or pretending that he didn’t hear him. Despite his curiosity, Nixon respected Nathan's silence, not wanting to push it any farther. To him, it sounded as though Nathan was just missing them a lot, and he didn’t want to keep reminding him of that. He understood, he missed his family a decent bit… But he had a mission to do.
-
Grafenwoeher, Germany
November 20th, 2023
1230
The company administrative office was bustling with activity as Nixon sifted through paperwork, trying to familiarize himself with his new duties. He was trying to get some leave forms in for the holidays, especially since Thanksgiving was only a few days away and some of his troops decided to make his life difficult and submit their forms late as hell. Nathan had just hit the “send” button on his email when he heard the office door swing open and Nathan walked in with a young soldier in tow.
“Hear ye, hear ye!” Nathan’s voice rang out, capturing the attention of the room. “I come bearing the greatest of news! Our young Soldier in Christ, Specialist Robbins here, has finally earned his rightful place in the Corps of the Non-Commissioned Officers! That is right folks, I now introduce you to… Sergeant Robbins!” Nathan spoke in an over exaggerated medieval accent, waving his finger around with one hand and throwing his arm around his soldier.
The office erupted in applause and cheers as Specialist Robbins, a shy but proud smile on his face, nodded in gratitude. Robbins was a 21 year old kid, with a spray of freckles across his face and wild red hair. He was a bit misguided at times, but since his court marshal he had really straightened up as a soldier, at least from what Nathan had said. From what Nixon has heard of the kid, he deserved this promotion. Nathan patted him on the back, then turned to the rest of the room with a grin. “And to celebrate this well-deserved promotion, I declare, as your platoon daddy, that we go for drinks tonight! Beers are on me. It’s going to be a night to remember!”
Nixon looked up from his desk, catching Nathan’s eye. Nathan winked at him, the sparkle in his eyes promising a good time. Nixon couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a surge of excitement. As the workday came to a close, the soldiers began to gather their things, buzzing with anticipation. Nixon found Nathan near the door, grabbing his backpack and throwing on his patrol cap. “You ready for tonight?” Nathan asked, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. Nixon chuckled. “Yeah, I’m ready. It’s been a while since I’ve had a proper night out. Plus, I could use a drink or two. These troops are killin’ me these days.” Nixon threw on his own cap, ready to walk out with the other.
Nathan’s grin widened. “Great! You’ll love the guys, and it’ll be fun. Trust me.” He chipped before he opened the door, and the two made their way out and onward to their night of fun