Post by Edward"Butcher"McMillan on Apr 9, 2008 2:20:06 GMT
It was a peaceful evening, some of the wildlife had almost started to become accustomed to sound of combat in the distance, but the occasional close call would still send them scurrying. That is what they were just starting to get over. A close bombing run sent them in every direction, leaving all types of fecal matter in their wake. McMillan was sitting out on a stump with his ball and glove. The seams were starting to wear out a good bit on both of them. He had kind of hoped that someone would notice him and join in. There wasn't a lot of sunlight left, but enough for a good throw or two.
This wasn't the first time the First Sergeant had called upon this very same stump, this is where he liked to think about everything that was going on and to go to that one place in his head that hadn't been corrupted and recall good memories of great friends. One of his favorite being with a Private named Colly, that kid could run. As the thoughts drifted in and out of his brain, that was always the one that brought a smile to his face. "Goofy Kid." He said to himself. "Always thinkin about that horse. Ha." He meant no harm to the guy, just had weird priorities, or at least odd ones compared to most soldiers.
He stood up and tossed the ball into the air, only to watch it fall right back down where he snagged it. He remembered when his dad gave him the glove but couldn't afford a ball. McMillan went out and pocketed one from a local merchant, one of his many successful crimes as a young one. He was glad to have joined the Army and put all that behind him.
This wasn't the first time the First Sergeant had called upon this very same stump, this is where he liked to think about everything that was going on and to go to that one place in his head that hadn't been corrupted and recall good memories of great friends. One of his favorite being with a Private named Colly, that kid could run. As the thoughts drifted in and out of his brain, that was always the one that brought a smile to his face. "Goofy Kid." He said to himself. "Always thinkin about that horse. Ha." He meant no harm to the guy, just had weird priorities, or at least odd ones compared to most soldiers.
He stood up and tossed the ball into the air, only to watch it fall right back down where he snagged it. He remembered when his dad gave him the glove but couldn't afford a ball. McMillan went out and pocketed one from a local merchant, one of his many successful crimes as a young one. He was glad to have joined the Army and put all that behind him.
