The morning sun peered through the haze of dust,
Brittle shrubs hunched in the cracked earth; their leaves dulled under a film of grime. At the head of the column, Bear led. Not once did he stop for a break or seem like he was having trouble.
They stopped at a tree, its twisted bare branches raised to the sky offering little shade. Behind them, other instructors watched in silence. The air carried the taste of iron and exhaustion.
"Listen up," Bear's voice cut through the recruits' heavy breathing and water chugging. "Out there, the enemy doesn't care if you're tired before he puts a hole in your brother."
He pointed toward the base of the tree: two steel poles, and a brown tarp, frayed at the edges. Their objective was to ferry their comrade to a medic at a safe point.
The recruits split into four teams, six men each. Their backpacks slumped in the dirt as they rested. They contained, weighed with sandbags, canteens, and small rocks.
Under the heat, they hurried.
