America 1982-Chapter 627 - 141: Without Tommy’s Letter of Recommendation_2
"Thank You Sir!" This time, there wasn’t a need for anyone to give a cue with their eyes—every guy knew to stand at attention with a salute befitting of an award presented by the President himself, their voices loud and excited as they expressed their utmost respect for Dennis and Glen.
Which military academy graduate officer would come to a new unit and prepare such a thoughtful welcome gift?
All those dumbass officers before had thought the soldiers, like them, could at any time hop in a car to go hook up with women, and then dodge the overnight fee with the excuse of helping the women get a green card.
It was when they discovered, thanks to a subtle hint from Glen, a perfectly rolled joint, possibly infused with a woman’s milky fragrance, hidden in the bra, that their respect nearly reached its peak.
In that moment, these soldiers felt that as long as Dennis didn’t send them to the battlefield to die, they would do anything. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢
Dennis looked at the excited little darlings and said with a smile, "What are you waiting for? Roll back to the barracks, the bathroom, or even go out on the street, enjoy a good jerk, a hit, or just fucking wear the lingerie yourself and have some fun for the brothers! Glen, tell them everyone besides Sean Dunning can be dismissed."
"Private Sean Dunning stays, everyone else, dismissed!" Glen, acting as a makeshift sergeant major, signaled for everyone to disperse.
A bunch of young guys, barely into their twenties, who had been dumped on the other side of the Earth, cheered as they rushed toward the barracks.
"Glen, get the lowdown on these guys. See who can be our mules, who can keep our books, and who can take the heat for us," Dennis instructed after his subordinates had left. "The usual rules: if someone doesn’t have any bad habits and is very ambitious, don’t hesitate to treat them like a fucking Soviet spy, report it to the higher-ups, and request a check by the Army Intelligence Bureau. It’s a perfect way to kick them out."
Glen glanced at Sean standing nearby, signaling to Dennis to be mindful of the setting. Dennis laughed and said, "Sean can’t possibly be a Soviet spy. The guy couldn’t even fetch third place in Lincoln High School’s hall of fame without Tommy withdrawing, or he’d be fourth."
Only then did Glen step back to the doorway, and when it was just Dennis and Sean from Warwick left in the courtyard, Dennis turned to his high school classmate and extended his fist, "Dismissed, soldier, let’s chat. I mean, back in high school, I never thought you loved your country enough to enlist voluntarily, let alone serve overseas. What happened? Did some handsome young Lebanese refugee steal your girlfriend, and now you’re here to fuck his country?"
Sean bumped fists with Dennis, then cursed angrily, "Fuck your twisted America!"
After cursing, he took out the joint Dennis had given him and lit it, "I’d love to take a gun and blow Jimmy Carter’s head off! If it weren’t for that asshole reinstating the Selective Service System, I might be married with kids by now, happily driving a truck."
He took a deep draw and then passed it to Dennis, who pushed it back, "Looks like you need it more, buddy. Plus, I haven’t been much into this stuff since West Point, only occasionally now."
Through Sean’s profanity-laden story, Dennis learned another tale of young American country folk joining the army, a story entirely unlike his and Tony’s.
After turning eighteen following high school, Sean had dutifully registered for the draft as mandated by President Carter, not out of any sense of patriotic pride, but because President Carter had made it clear: any American citizen who intentionally avoided registration and was caught would face up to five years in jail and up to a $250,000 fine, lose access to certain federal benefits for life, and would forever be barred from federal employment.
Most importantly, Sean wanted to be a truck driver, and getting his truck driving license was contingent on completing his draft registration—otherwise, no license would be issued. This was why he went to register.
When he went to sign up at the draft board in Rhode Island, the staff there assured him that the chances of his number being called were so low as to be essentially negligible. Three years after registering, however, he got a call from the Federal Draft Command, notifying him that he was drafted and needed to do a medical exam and report for duty.
Sean was stunned. He had just taken out a loan to buy a truck and start a transport business, dreaming of the happy life of an American blue-collar truck driver. Now, a single phone call meant he had to say goodbye to his beloved truck and fiancée to go serve.
After a few rushed months of training at a domestic base, he was shipped off to the godforsaken place that is Lebanon.
"Why did you end up in Lebanon? I mean, normally the base commander would consider your preferences. If you didn’t want to come this far, you could have been assigned to a closer overseas base," Dennis asked curiously.
He knew the enlistment process for new soldiers better than Sean. Normally, unless there were conflicts on the scale of the Vietnam War, the U.S. wouldn’t send green recruits like him to faraway places like Lebanon. They would typically adapt in the U.S. for a while and then serve some time at an overseas base closer to home.
