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Tears Of Man
Chapter Seven: Northern Morons

Chapter Seven: Northern Morons

The flight was brief and quiet. The only thing keeping Johnny busy was the stomach ache he got from the snacks given by the flight crew. He stood at the baggage claim area completely out of it. There were a lot of new faces. Many people from different countries wanted to join the North American sector for the U.S.C.

Johnny had no idea why people decided to do it, but at the end of the day, the more, the merrier. Now he stood there, waiting for his bag, praying that it didn't get ripped in the process.

As it came rolling down the belt, Johnny plucked it off the belt and casually walked over toward the meet-up. There were a ton of people waiting and chatting. Every person came from all walks of life. Some were very small, and some were very tall. Some were constantly shaking. Others were calm and mellow. They all crowded the USO area. Three white buses lined up as everyone casually spoke with the other new recruits.

Many of them had no luggage whatsoever. Whereas Johnny had a huge bag lunged over his shoulder with his clothes and other things needed. He wasn't bringing it with him. Mr. Maimo made sure to have a friend keep it until he graduated from basic training.

He targeted a wall that was left untouched and away from the large influx of teens and adults. Resting on the floor and looking at his phone for any calls or news in general. But there was nothing. He wanted to call his mother again. So he did. And the phone dialed for some time and went straight to voicemail. He pressed the call log one more time. As it dialed again.

"Hello?" said a light voice.

"Hello?" asked Johnny after clearing his voice. "Can you hear me?"

"Is this John John?" asked Gabriella. She couldn't speak to him when he called on the plane. She was super happy to hear his voice again. As well as confused as to why he hasn't been home. "Where have you been?"

"Hey Cheesehead," he smiled. "I haven't heard from you in a while. What's going on?"

"Ma is in the kitchen cooking dinner," she said. "When are you coming home? Dinner will be done soon."

Johnny sighed and covered his face, trying not to get any tears from his eyes. "Sorry, Cheesehead, I can't come home for some time."

"Are you fighting bad guys?" she asked. "Is that why Momma's been crying a lot lately?"

"Has she?" he whispered. "I'm sorry, Cheesehead."

"Don't be!" she screamed. "You're going to be a hero! Just like our brothers!"

Her voice broke numerous times when speaking. It sounded like she was crying, but it was hard for Johnny to fully understand what was happening on the other line.

"Just come back for dinner!" she screamed. Then the call ended.

Johnny sighed while itching his head. He moved his head back to rest on the wall as he looked up at the ceiling. The white buses rolled further up.

Due to the large influx of soldiers coming into training, a few marine recruit depots were made to maintain a non-overcrowding establishment. Along with the likes of Parris Island and San Diego, new recruit depots were located in Albany, Houston, and Montgomery. Houston is where Johnny was going. The place was located on the outskirts.

There were many people who didn't understand what was happening. Many of them were chatting with their parents on the phone and the many volunteers, who also gave a lesson on what was happening and the differences between the old Marines and the new Marines. As the time ticked, a man came over to Johnny, asking if he'd have any questions. Johnny brushed him off, looking up at the ceiling again.

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"Hello," said an older lady. "Is this bag yours?"

"Yes," he replied. He stood up and towered over the small lady with a red vest on.

"Someone is going to pick it up?" she asked.

"Yes," Johnny replied.

"Alright, I shall take it and leave it for the person to get it," she told him. "May you please put your name on it? It's almost time for you to leave. I hope you have a safe trip to the training camp."

Johnny smiled at the old lady. She was nice, and it wasn't like she was forced to speak to him. He looked at the many people—a lot of them teens—and nodded his head in agreement.

"Thank you," he smiled. "I'll do my best."

[Northern Morons]

*8 weeks into basic training*

"So you're going the infantry route?" asked Marcel Cabral. He was tall and of Portuguese descent. Marcel enlisted in the Marines due to his father's wishes, as Portugal is now under the rule of the invaders.

"Mhm," Johnny replied. "I'm not that technical in anything."

"Not that technical?" asked Tom Belton. Tom was a buff man. He wore glasses and was taller than his brother, who was also in their platoon. He was black and had joined the Marines to be able to search for his two sisters, who are also in the Marines but are missing in action. His little brother, Jerry, is always next to him. Both of them are very smart at building and repairing due to their father teaching them the basics. They get made fun of by the drill instructors due to their names correlation to a cartoon.

"Why not be a sniper?" said Jerry Belton. Jerry had the same look at Tom, was the same height as Johnny, and was also friends with Johnny. The only difference between him and Tom’s appearance was that Jerry was leaner than Tom. He was very quiet and had dreams of being a marksman.

"You know you can do things like logistics," suggested Quincy Usoman. Quincy was a 25-year-old man who had a rough path in his life. He decided the best bet for him was to join the military. After multiple failed attempts at getting drafted, he decided enough was enough. He enlisted in the Marines. He lost his family a long time ago and was already on the brink of suicide. Quincy was small and light-skinned. He had a scar near his ear and was always telling jokes.

"No, Q, I won't do something like that," Johnny replied.

"Why not drive those amphibious vehicles?" suggested Charlie Tolowski. He was white with pale skin and was the weakest out of the bunch. His stamina was unmatched, though. Charlie was one of the few who almost failed due to the stress. He succeeded in many tests with the help of the boys. Charlie was the youngest of everyone. His birthday was the day he enlisted, and everyone in their company calls him a late bloomer.

"Sure," Johnny smiled. "Just kidding. Stop giving me terrible things to do. No, I won't be an engineer, and no, I won't do logistics. No! I will not! Do accounting!"

Everyone around Johnny laughed so hard that some started to cry.

"Alright, understandable," laughed Quincy. "Just don't forget about us if we all end up parting ways."

Johnny fixed up his gear and made sure everything was prepped. Quincy had continued writing his letter to his best friend at home, who was very skeptical of his whereabouts. His best friend also knew he was on the edge between life and death and made sure to keep him up to date with everything that's been happening.

These few minutes of just talking and preparing are what kept Johnny sane. The beginning of boot camp was absolute hell for him. In fact, it was one of those horrific experiences that could be seen in those old movies with the new kid and the school bully.

With everything happening in the world, Johnny had time to fully relax on a nice afternoon as the sun peeked through the clouds.

"I feel happy that we got ourselves a nickname," laughed Tom. "Northern Morons, what the hell?"

"Because a ton of us are from up north," Jerry replied.

"Yes, Jerry, I know that," Tom sighed.

Johnny started giggling at the sudden conversation. He looked up to see Jerry struggling with his gear and Tom casually looking at the many letters he received. The two brothers were always next to each other, always in the same group, and were basic battle buddies. Johnny had thought it was an odd occurrence. He thought basic training would make people step out of their basic comfort zone, including those with their siblings.

The day grew old, and soon after every task was completed, everyone went to sleep. It was the usual schedule. The night went on. In the morning, they continued their training. Most of the physical work was done in the morning. The forest they trained in for navigation and basic combat understanding was eerie and always had a bright line shining down on them in the weirdest places.

Back in the barracks, everyone was quiet. People read, and others cleaned. With training coming to an end soon, hopes were high. Many recruits around this time started to have some regrets. But there was still much to do, and the time for graduation was quickly approaching.