The road to the base was quite uneventful. On our way there I figured that I am most likely not on earth, as the horned humanoids didn’t exist on Earth and that if we are not on earth, and the commander had a sword, they probably don’t have guns and other techs and seen the base itself convinced me of that. It was wooden walled, the wall been a standard three meters high wall. Two human looking guards equipped with swords stood on either side of a wooden gate, looking bored – it was so familiar that it made me feel at home for a moment despite been in medial multi-raced worlds.

Curios how this world armies were organized here, I looked around, and figured that I didn’t pull a lucky hand when I reached this world – I could smell the negligence in the air. I arrived at a place where no one like to be. Between wooden barracks, every face I saw radiated misery, be it the dwarfed half meter carrying woods or the three meters giant holding a club that peaked out above the wall from time to time, looking at the horizon like its freedom. The guys I saw looked like the wall was built to keep them inside, not to guard the camp from outside invasions and thievery.

‘Minute from call. ‘The commander sharply barked. ‘Puker, you with me.’

‘Permission to talk?’ I asked, he approved as he led me somewhere.

‘I don’t understand where I am, don’t know how to use a weapon, don’t recognize races other than human, and don’t know which unit it is.’ It took me a while to figure how to go about it. The guy was a true soldier, unlike everyone else I saw in camp, which was a riddle, but I had to keep it short, sharp and to the point with a straight-to-business-no-bull attitude.

We reached our destination, which was a shaded corner of some building, and the guy turned to me. I stood in attention as expected ‘Is that all or is there something else?’ he asked

‘Actually, there is more’

‘I figured that something is wrong with you when I asked you to give me fifteen and you did whatever it is you did. I’ll answer your questions then…’ He paused for a second. ‘You are in for trouble… You currently are in Bergerfork, mid war, part of death squad’s next generation. Questions?’

‘How long is the boot camp, who are the enemy and What is dead squad?’

‘For raining’ sake… the boot camp will last another six months, our enemy is the Olaks’ third combined unit, and the Dead Squad is an honorific for a squad that in the previous twenty battle did not have a single survivor. Don’t you give me that look, it’s not my fault that you forgot all of this.’

Uh. that’s ominous.

‘Then how do I discharge?’ I asked him in good nature. He was warming up to me. He gave me the look. ‘I’m joking, sir. There are other things I don’t know though – what did you want me to do when you asked me to give you fifteen?’ he gave me the look again

‘Did you just asked your commander to give you one?’ he asked, not so friendly anymore

‘No, sir.’

‘Now answer mine. What was the thing you did when I asked for fifteen?’

‘Standard wide push-ups, sir, an exercise meant to strengthen the chest, shoulders, and upper body. Works the stomach muscles as well but to lesser degree.’

‘Interesting.’ he had a thoughtful look ‘good. How come you didn’t know who the enemy and where you are?’

‘If I told you that I have no memory at all, what would be the most important thing you could tell me?’ I asked

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

‘Was that a theoretical question?’ he asked

‘Yes’, I decided not to tell him about me been an off planet personal.

‘I don’t do theoretical. When you man up, Tell me the truth. Follow.’ And off we went.

That went worse than I hoped. I figured he would talk to me about my out of place show. I hoped that he would give me something to figure out what was what, but the only thing I got was an answer to the gloomy atmosphere. Not exactly a successful interrogation.

Back to the barracks we went.

the most pressing issue is deciding what to do, what the plan of operation, abbreviated as POP, is. As far as I am concerned – I am a civilian in this war, not a patriot or a Comfy pig – and obviously some of the command officers are idiots. What do they think when they create a Suicide squad? This is a strategic failure given name! In Egypt they use death sentenced to guard the boarders. Here they take people and sentence them to death for no good reason, and that teaches me plenty about this medieval Bergerfork country. I digressed from the problem. What is the POP. We reached the barracks and the commander called for the others, as well as some trainees I haven’t been with previously, holding some boxes, and we returned to the forest. He had the guys with the boxes walk a six k/h and had the rest of us running circles around them. And another weird thing – we ran Clockwise. As we ran, I had time to think about me situation and the best POP.

The conclusions were to hold any immediate action, pry for information – mostly about this country, the races, how money worked here, how people earned money, think about what profession I would like to have and in at most another month, rethink my POP. I know nothing of this world and acting rashly would do me no good.

And so, among giants, I ran.

There are two kinds of military man: The Comfy and the Pet. A comfy Is mostly a nonfighter personal how stayed at the army for its comfort, be it having a job, the early pension, the love of power to control others, some fighters had that too. A Pet, a nickname for patriots, where the people who choose to serve despite the price of serving. Pets are the guys the kind o’ guys you respect.

The commander was a Pet, no doubt about that. How come there is a Pet in a Death Squad, that’s a question. I know I’m lucky for him been a Pet and not a power hungry Comfy, but it still intrigued me. Every private I saw looked depressed, except for the horned giant humanoids, who took everything competitively and were constantly trying to run past me. I snorted inwardly, they are too muscular to keep up with that speed of circling for long. The giants, I’d love to know what they are called, but I forgot to ask the commander about them. Fortunately, I got my answer to that quite fast.

‘Stop… upping speed… you… verlocks’ someone with huffed we gained another round on him. And when I said ‘we’ I mean me and the three giants, the verlocks, that tried to run past me. Two from before and another one joined us when the other group joined.

The verlocks kept trying for the lead. I kept the lead.

It was about hour later when we were told to stop. During that time, the group running speed was divided to four groups: those how can’t run ten kilometers straight, who started to walk after some time and swap place with the box holders, those who ran slowly but without stopping – the verlocks joined them after some time, those with high tenacity – who kept to the same good pace till the end, in which I was.

The commander had us sit in a randomly looking clearing for lunch, and the guys had the guys who ran the slowest serve food. Tim, I learnt, gave what was considered bread for everyone, by trainee weight. The bread was unnecessary hard, tasteless, and moldy, not the foulest thing I had as a soldier, but that’s not much of a compliment.

I waved Tim to sit by me at end of his task. He crushed by my side; legs sour as they can get.

‘So’ he said before lending ‘they ask what Hat and you talked about’ he said before even orienting himself. He had brown eyes, and had an Earth-normal height, combined with our dirt-colored uniform he looked extremely plain except for his hair – shoulder length, very smooth and eye catching despite only been colored a mix of blond and brown hairs. I thought I choose wise who to invite, as he talked like a rumor guy.

‘So, Hat the commander’s name? by the way,’ I started from where a conversation should have started ‘hey, nice to meet you too, my name is’

‘Jon Pucker, yea I know. I’m Tim. you know. So, what did you talk about?’ the guy had some sort of social skills that he tried not to use, speaking too fast for my brain, and probably his, to catch up to the words meaning. I’m sure it got him into ‘funny situations. I choose to entertain him.

‘It’s not really Pucker, you know?’ I disagreed. I knew the name would stick with me, but I enough self-respect to place my real last name on the protocol records.

‘What do you mean? Pucker is your last name.’ he looked confused. its was not a question I noticed, but a fact. Uh.

‘And how do you know that?’ I smiled at him.

‘Duh? I Identified you?’