Cannon led them at a leisurely pace. Not one of them knew where they were going. What happened next truly surprised everyone in the flight. Cannon angled his stride until he was shoulder to shoulder with Corby. He marched in this way for two or three hundred yards and then abruptly disappeared from Em’s view as he began to march in place. Corby then stepped out of ranks and took the position normally occupied by Cannon. He then began to call cadence in a loud clear voice. Em grinned. He could not explain in completely, but he felt pride. Corby had come a long way in two short weeks. Em thought he even looked taller. Cannon must have told Corby where they were going because Corby bellowed in a voice that Em had never heard. He thundered, “Hut, two, three, four!” over and over again. He led them for about five minutes before he bellowed, “Flight…halt!” Corby stood in front of the flight and directed each column to designated areas that had been marked in orange paint on the ground. He ordered them to remain at attention and wait for further instructions.
Em was in column 4, so he knew he would receive instructions last. They stood at attention for quite a while. Em watched Corby the entire time. Cannon pulled him to the side once again and spoke to him alone. Em noticed the look on Cannon’s face. It was not the same look that Em had learned to tolerate. He spoke to Corby as was speaking to an equal. Could Corby have matured so much that Cannon now thought of him as a leader? Was this some elaborate scheme to humiliate him once more?
Em continued to watch as Corby went to column 1 while Cannon began with column 2. Momentarily, Corby went to column 3. Em saw a few of the guys begin to ask Corby questions. They would not dare speak to Sergeant Cannon that way, Em thought. Corby politely reminded them that they were still at attention. It was amazing to see how fast all heads snapped to the position of attention. Corby was not interrupted again.
“All right, you maggots, your turn!” Cannon had arrived in front of them. Not having seen him coming, several heads snapped to the left awfully quick. “What the devil are you looking at, son? Nobody told you to gawk around like some kind of turtle! Atten-hut!”
How had this happened? Em stared straight ahead. Cannon kept screaming, but he did not seem to be saying anything. Em didn’t really hear him anymore. He was staring straight ahead. The only thing in his field of vision was Corby. He stood in front of column 1 and stared straight back at Em. They stood this way, without moving an eyeball the entire time that Cannon lost his temper. Em could not quite understand what was going on. Somehow, his quiet existence here at Camp Cannon had turned into something resembling his worst nightmare. He refused to think that it was even possible for Corby to be where he was right now and himself to be the new target. It just could not be happening.
He continued to stare at Corby as he heard Cannon scream something about his sister being his mother. Corby didn’t even crack a smile. He heard other snickers from several different places. Usually, this enraged Cannon. This time was no exception. Only this time, he turned all the anger toward Em.
“What in the world is your name anyhow, son?” Cannon was staring directly into Em’s eyes. Em thought that his luck had indeed officially run out. He had managed to stay anonymous for over two weeks. He had begun to think this training was going to be as easy as riding a bike.
“Story, Emory, sir,” Em replied back almost automatically. He had also begun to think of himself as Story, Emory, 2876.
Cannon began to lose the redness in his forehead. Em knew by now that this meant he was calming down. He had seen him throw so many tantrums that had been aimed at Corby that he was beginning to notice the subtle changes in voice that accompanied the normal color returning to his skin. Now that the tantrum was over, Cannon decided that he was going to let Em lead his group in their upcoming task. He began to tell them about the obstacle course and the rules they must follow. All members of each group must cross the finish line. No one could be left behind. Each group of twelve men must finish with their team. The only catch was that one of them had to cross the finish line as clean as when he started.
That shouldn’t be so hard, Em thought. We have eleven others to carry one man. As long as we work as a team, it should not be entirely difficult.
The surprise that awaited them just across the flight line was the muddiest obstacle course any one of them had ever seen. Just to reach the first wall, they had to make their way through what looked to be a very deep mud pit. The only real rules were that every man had to go over every wall and one man was to remain clean. Em immediately chose Koval to be his “clean one.” His group was in luck because Koval was the smallest man in formation. Two groups had thirteen men, so his team had another advantage. Em looked at Corby’s group and saw that he organized his team into two separate teams, one group responsible for carrying the load and the other group for keeping it clean. Em copied his friend. Before he was quite satisfied with his choices, Cannon roared, “Teams to the starting line!”
As soon as the starting gun was fired, all four teams hoisted their cargo onto their collective shoulders. Em stayed in front of his group, trying to ensure that everything went the way they had hastily planned. He held his arms high over his head to keep them clean in case he had to lift. He told everyone else to do the same. He entered the first mud pit. He estimated it to be twenty-five feet across. The first two carriers stepped in after him. As Em walked backward in the mud, trying to assess the situation, it soon reached his knees. Morris was holding Koval’s head and shoulders, and Hamilton had his torso. Jack had one leg, and Smith had the other. The rest of Em’s team surrounded these four, ready for any impending disaster. When Morris’s foot became lodged in the mud, he dropped Koval’s head. Before any of the emergency team had a chance to assist, Jack was under Koval and supported most of his weight. They did not resume moving until reinforcements supported Koval. Very carefully, they proceeded, no one moving forward unless everyone had lifted his foot first. Em saw Corby’s team beginning to climb out of the pit. Two members of team were already scaling the first six-foot wall.
When McAtee, who had replaced Morris, holding Koval’s head, reached the point where he had to climb, he lost control of Koval’s head. Em made a mental note to himself: biggest would not necessarily mean strongest. Jack, in an instant, supported Koval’s entire weight. He held Koval on his shoulders as Hamilton climbed out of the pit. The other team members lifted Koval from Jack’s shoulders and raised him above their heads. Em noticed three of his team members already had muddy hands. They were desperately trying to find a place on their fatigues to wipe their hands. Em told them to stay out of the way unless they were needed.
As soon as Em’s first two were over the wall, he noticed Corby’s last man going over. He hadn’t had time to see how they managed to get their cargo over. The other two teams were dead even with Em and his team. The three lagging teams were trying to figure out how to accomplish their new obstacle. Jack took over from there.
Em stood at the bottom of the wall and watched as Jack pulled Koval to the top. There he sat until the rest of them made it over. Once all twelve were on the other side and Koval was back over their heads, they proceeded to the next obstacle. In front of them were two bridges, spanning over another mud pit. This one looked a little larger than the first. One bridge was covered in mud where Corby’s team had crossed. The other was clean if they could reach it first. Both bridges were about six feet above the pit.
Jack stepped up again. “We have to go over the one on the right; this one is all muddy,” he said. The first thing they did was set Koval onto the bridge. This was accomplished with little effort. Now Koval had to walk across without falling off. This would prove to be rather nerve-racking because the span was a mere four-inches wide. Em sent two of his men into the pit so that Koval would have something to use as support in case he faltered. Koval stepped onto the span and immediately began to wobble. His arms were dancing around as if they had minds of their own. He took a step forward and righted himself. Em told him to slow down and be careful. Once on the other side, he had to stand on a small platform to let three men pass him. These men climbed down and hoisted Koval into the air once more. Em was the last of his team to cross. He had to wonder how the other teams were going to cross the muddy beams. He never looked back. He had to catch up to Corby’s team. He made a quick survey of his team. The only ones who were somewhat clean were Jack, Hamilton, Smith, and himself. Everyone else looked as if they had had a mud fight.