Two Minutes to Reveille

A recruit's eyes slid open. He blinked off the groggy blurriness and angled his head to take a look at the clock on the far bulkhead.

He sighed.

Two minutes until reveille.

He looked down and over at what he could see of the watch, and only saw a portion of his sad form, invisibly steeling himself for the arrival of the red rope.

He rolled onto his back. Which one would show up first today? The calm, grandfatherly chief, the young, brash, hot-headed chief, or the cynical, wisecracking petty officer? Which one would he most like to see hit the lights. He couldn't decide: None of them made his morning particularly nicer.

The second hand was still moving. He continued to think: Was boot camp really the place to have nice mornings? No, not really. If he were still home, six in the morning would be an absurd time to wake up. He thought of what was going on back home, if something was happening to make it change, or if it was still the same, as if sealed on a post card waiting to be opened when he returned.

He looked back at the clock and sighed. One minute to reveille.

As the compartment began to stir, his mind then went to the events of the day. What even was today? Boot camp had so blurred his sense of time. The hours, the minutes, the seconds, they were all still there most of the time, but the days and weeks were difficult to discern any more. Those were now measured in training cycles, not Monday through Friday. He vaguely remembered perusing the five-day plan on the board the last time he had watch, some time ago. What did it say about today? Had today's events even made it on there when he last saw it? He started to think, but his reflection time was winding down.

"Good morning, Chief, Seaman Recruit, Division, roving security watch, standing by for further instructions. . .Chief," followed closely by the other watch.

He sighed and pushed the blanket aside. In the second before Chief Hardass snapped on the lights and started yelling, he thought about how he would summarize his feelings in Facebook status.

Here we go again. . .