Chapter 5: The Untold Tales of the Army

“Exercise concluded, Red Team victorious. All personnel from the Seventh Squadron, return immediately!”

As the last Blue Team tank was destroyed, a command came through the communication channel from the instructor who also served as the battalion commander. His voice was devoid of any emotion, like a soulless machine, yet all the trainees understood this was the calm before the storm. Next came the debriefing, and whether everyone would return to their dorms for a break or be assigned to clean the entire battalion—and even the regiment—depended entirely on the chief instructor’s verdict.

Soon after, all the tanks began to assemble toward a nearby dirt road. At this point, the crew members no longer had to remain cramped inside their vehicles; half their bodies poked out as they soaked up the sunlight and chatted over the comms, eyes wandering around.

“Three cheers for the captain!”

When Red Dragon One reached the rally point, most of the trainees had been waiting there for some time. Members of the Blue Team were busy fretting over the grime on their tanks, while several from the Red Team, without even waiting for Yuding to bring the vehicle to a complete stop, rushed onto Red Dragon One, dragged Makarius out of the tank, and hoisted him high.

“Good opportunity, brothers, let’s go!”

Seeing this, the Blue Team surged forward as well, lifting all the Red Team members along with Makarius and running toward a dead tree.

“Damn it, let me down!”

Makarius could only scream hoarsely, but the Blue Team showed no mercy; they pried his legs apart and began ramming him against the tree trunk.

Of course, they exercised some restraint—ensuring no real harm was done, they pressed Makarius against the bark until it was nearly stripped bare before finally letting him down.

“You bunch of ingrates! Don’t come begging me during the regiment’s drills!”

“Let’s keep things in perspective—you were pretty ruthless when gambling with your brothers!”

The previously blond, handsome guy cheerfully handed over a bottle of ice-cold energy drink and a bundle of white towels, all taken from the logistics support vehicle.

“I was just helping you kick that bad habit of gambling, and I went easy on you. With other battalions, it’s all or nothing. Those bastards from the Second Battalion lost fifty thousand Hait last time!”

After gulping down half the drink, Makarius finally breathed a sigh of relief. He wiped the sweat, dust, and gunpowder residue from his face, then tossed the white towel back to the blond.

“Damn it, the logistics vehicle is right there. Why don’t you get it yourself?”

“Lazy—if you’re the squadron leader and don’t slave away for your subordinates, then what’s the point of being a squadron leader?”

Makarius then headed toward his tank. His driver was already chatting with the others about the exercise details. Of course, it was mostly the driver bragging while the others responded with amazed noises. Especially the Blue Team trainees, whose expressions twisted in frustration. They had painstakingly aimed, yet here it seemed the opposing side was strolling effortlessly through a hailstorm of bullets.

“Must be talent, huh!”

“Wait until graduation. That guy will probably be a school officer in five years and a general in eight. While we’re still struggling in the company staring contests with the rookies, he’ll already have a beautiful secretary and a personal shuttle!” A red-haired trainee couldn’t help but let his imagination run wild.

“What kind of secretary?”

“Like Captain Li from the General Affairs Department!”

A chorus of agreement rose around him.

“A group of unlucky kids!”

Makarius didn’t interrupt their daydreams. Life at the military academy was truly harsh. Besides, these guys were sheep at heart—they wouldn’t even dare to make eye contact with female soldiers from other departments or the General Affairs Office. When two female officers from that office came to the battalion on official business, the sentries almost fainted from the mere glance of those women.

It was understandable. The armored corps was different from the Space Force or the Navy and Air Force. Their constant companions were these cold steel coffins.

“All right, get back in! We’re discussing things now. I won’t mind if you want to chat all night back in the dorm, but for now, get moving—we’re about to depart!”

After a brief rest, the squadron’s twenty tanks formed a column and rolled toward the distant training camp.

As the training base for the entire regiment, Base One was vast. Though nominally an outdoor training site, it boasted extensive permanent facilities—workshops, support garages, fuel depots—designed for equipment, not personnel. Regardless of rank, everyone slept in tents, though the quality of tents varied considerably.

“Hey, Audra, your squadron’s back? Looks like you got trounced pretty badly! Don’t tell me you’re sweeping the streets again!”

Upon returning to base, the blond guy first exchanged friendly middle fingers with the guards at the gate—a jovial greeting among familiar faces. These soldiers of the security company, subordinate to the academy’s security department, weren’t trainees but often patrolled the grounds. They were well acquainted with the trainees and often exchanged a few words. Mocking the losers was routine since punishments meant doing various menial tasks alongside the security soldiers.

Some penalties, like physical training, were supervised by the security company—especially dreaded events like the ten-kilometer run. To speed up the lagging trainees, the guards sometimes chased them with patrol dogs.

Seeing the blond guy’s gesture, the sergeant of the security company didn’t get angry but laughed and replied,

“We’ll be waiting for you then!”

Inside the base’s gates lay hardened paved roads with various road signs at intersections. The base was enormous, annually hosting over ten thousand cadets for training. With all their equipment, the base had to be large to accommodate them all.

It was already four in the afternoon, and most trainees were still outside on various assignments, so there were few people on the roads. The armored column drove smoothly to the climate-controlled garage in the northwest corner, where several officers in uniform, armed belts, and broad-brimmed hats awaited. At the forefront stood a man holding a megaphone—Captain McMillan, the regiment commander and chief instructor, the ultimate nightmare for the entire battalion and regiment.

“Why does the old man look so cheerful?”

“Could he be getting a promotion?”

“Or maybe a new wife?”

“That would indeed be good news!”

As always, rumors and unofficial stories about superiors never ceased. Even Makarius joined in, though he was more blunt, speculating whether the captain remained a captain all these years because he had rejected the principal’s inappropriate advances.

“Report to the regiment commander: The entire Seventh Squadron has returned!”

Just as the old man and the principal seemed poised to spark conflict over rank and status, the blond guy hastily interrupted the topic. The comm channel was unencrypted, and if outsiders overheard, the instigator wouldn’t even mention the punishment. As squadron leader, he’d be the first to be assigned to clean every toilet on campus—maybe until graduation, possibly forced to remain at the academy, scrubbing toilets his entire career.