Gerardo Bravo

5 Stories

Begin

Begin here is what I was told. Is everyone destined to fulfill an already planned? Must we all fall in line with the countless of lost souls in this cold unforgiving reality? A wise man once said there is no fate but what we make for ourselves. Why must I begin where my father left off? I refuse to live in the reality that was given to me. I would rather take my chances on a raft built on hopes and dreams. I choose to change this foreseen fate. But one must remember to hold on tight as the rapids of hate and evil will toss you back and forth until you drown in the cold deep water of reality.

Basic Routine

I wake up at 4:30 a.m. Time to beat everybody else to the bathroom. I grab my clothes and stumble in the dark with a dim red flashlight to guide my way. I get ready and hear the unpleasant annoying screaming of Drill Sgt. Corrales “wake up!!!! Wake up wake up wake up!!! Quit your crying privates! Mommy ain't here to baby your sorry asses!!! WAKE UP YOUR IN THE ARMY NOW!!! One can never get used to the screechy voice of Drill Sergeant Corrales…I wake up my bunk mate and make my bed, grab my water bottle and rifle and head downstairs. I form up in our platoon area and wait for the Platoon Guide to take accountability. We then march out to the PT (physical training) field and begin the famous strenuous physical demands of the Drill Sergeants. Oh and not to forget the yelling. With PT done we head back to our barracks for a quick baby wipe bath. I change into the usual dirty camouflage uniform and grab the usual gear a helmet, ballistic vest, camel back and magazines. I grab my M-16. I rush downstairs to grab some breakfast before we leave to the range. 8:30 a.m. the usual Blue Bird buses arrive to take us to the range. 15 minute drive to the range. We all enjoyed those 15 minutes for it was the only time we heard the radio. “get the hell off my bus!” was all Drill Sgt Kilo would say. I ground my gear and grab 30 rounds of ammo and head down range. I load up my magazines and build up my house of sandbags. And no I lay in the sun careful to avoid the fire ant hill next to my house of sandbags. A loud horn goes off and the first target appears, one after the other, up left down right, control my breathing center my sights and pray my rounds go where I aim. I quickly expend all of my rounds and get up to see the fruits of my labor. No go is all I was told…better luck tomorrow. I sit under a shady pine tree to clean my rifle, and take a drink of hot water. Better than nothing. I hear the familiar sound of an ambulance in the distance, just another heat casualty. When everyone’s done we pick up our gear and get back on the buses. No radio this time.  We arrive back at the barracks and I quickly take off my gear so I could take a shower. Turn the shower full blast on cold, nothing like cold water to soothe ant bites and sunburn. I find a clean uniform and head down for dinner chow. Sweet, we get banana nut muffins! I steal some peanut butter and head outside with my friends. March back to the barracks for mail call. We gathered around Drill Sgt. Foster as though he were Santa Claus. Name after name is called but no Bravo. But then my name is said. Awesome I got a letter from my girlfriend! 20 pushups was the price for her letter. I quickly pump them out and run to my bunk where I slowly opened it up, careful not to ruin the paper inside. Before reading it I make an attempt to smell her letter, o wait can’t smell, stupid sinus infection. I read the letter with content and kiss her pink lipstick lips she so carefully kissed on. Bravo and Breland fireguard. Crap I thought one less hour of sleep, o well. As I sit in the dark I write to my girlfriend using a dim red light to see. We are later relieved of our duty and are allowed to go back to sleep. I slowly climb in my bed and look at my watch. 2:00 a.m. Just another normal day in the life of a soldier in basic training.

Bumper Sticker

"Grow your own dope; plant a man" is what the bumper sticker read. This person probably drives a hybrid car. Probably a Prius. Small and blue. The inside reeks of cheap perfume and sweat. Its contents are women’s rights activist posters in the back seat with a half eaten veggie burger on the dash. A no smoking sign is clearly posted on the passenger window. As I lean in closer to see through the window the woman who owns the car yells to me  “you dirty man get away from my car!” and gives me a bad look. She then gives me a bad speech on how worthless and bad men are to women and pepper sprays my face when I tell her to calm down. As I get up from being sprayed I see she is on her smart phone calling her friends for support. Noticing that the situation is quickly turning bad my instinct tells me to run away. As I start to run a police officer tackles me and tells me I am going to jail for disturbing the peace. As I am being driven to jail a mob of angry women surround the police cruiser and pound on the windows yelling baby killer, animal, pig, worthless and countless other names.

World at War

“Death is less bitter punishment than death's delay” was all I can think about while in the trenches of Des Moines Iowa. My platoon and I were dug in around a Wal-Mart Super Center with 88 MM Howitzers on the roof overlooking us as though they were angels on our shoulders. Angels that could blow the Reds into a million little pieces with no remorse whether they killed a 16 year old Chinese boy or a father trying to support his family by joining the Red Army. Regardless of all this I had a job to do and my men were depending on me. I had enlisted into the U.S. Army before the Great War. I quickly rose through the ranks and before I knew it was a Sergeant. I was put in charge of a fresh group of recruits straight out of boot camp. Some still in High school as they were drafted into the Service. I myself was just 19 years old, a teenager put in charge of other scared young men who hadn’t even graduated High School let alone defend an entire outpost.

We were down to limited supplies as the Reds had cut us off from the West. This was the front line? I thought to myself a parking lot around a Wal-Mart? Who would have thought that I would be defending a grocery store from an invading communist force set on destroying our American way of life.

The Great War had begun back in 2070. The Red Army (Chinese) had invaded Alaska during the holidays. We were caught off guard and were quickly overcome as the Chinese had used a new type of cloaking device to infiltrate our waters. They quietly took out communications and armories. Despite freezing temps this didn’t stop the well trained Chinese as they ran through villages, towns, and cities burning everything in site with napalm. By the time we realized what was happening it was too late. Our wonderful state of Alaska was compromised and we were forced to fall back into Canada. Even though the Canadians were our allies they didn’t last very long before they were overrun. Once the news about Canada’s fall spread, the American public went into a frenzy trying to prepare as World War III had reached its front doorstep. Vaults were built underground and inside mountains as the American Government knew that a nuclear attack on American soil was imminent.

America tried to defend its borders against the invasion but it didn’t take very long for the Red Army to penetrate our northern borders. As civilians were evacuated to the south, millions of young men and women were drafted into the Military and ordered to serve.

As I sit in this cold wet trench I look around at the scared faces of young men and women shaking uncontrollably at the thought of being killed. They had never seen combat in their entire life. I was lucky to get stuck with a few kids from southern Iowa who had hunting experience. This couldn’t get much worse I thought, but I was wrong…. I looked at the ground and saw pebbles shake as the Chinese appeared in the distance.

Don’t Tread on Me

I owe you no apologies nor will I accept those apologies made for me by others.

If you dislike me, you dislike me not for what I am but for what you are not. By my own sweat, I have created a lifestyle which I desire for all men.

To the world I have shared my wealth and given my blood, not because of obligation but by my own free will. I have fed the hungry of the world. Many bit my hand. I simply used the other hand.

I defeated my enemies in battle, and then pulled them from the ashes of defeat. Once strong they again attacked. I turned the other cheek. Though I am strong, I have never used my strength to rule others. But do not misjudge me, I will not allow the fear of my own strength to become my weakness.

If you wish to rise, I will give you a helping hand. But by the grace of God, and I’ll first be damned, if I’ll let you drag me down so that we may be equal