Young Writers Group discussion
Share Your Writing
>
The Year 2026
date
newest »
newest »
I'm not one for futuristic stuff, but this is really good so far. I love that Emerson (view spoiler) is not a tough-as-nails stereotypical soldier. It makes for great dialogue! I'd love to read more!
Mod
Drafted young men are coming in at youngest 16 years old. To save his younger brother, Emerson Statson was drafted from his home in place of his brother and has been a Private for the last four years. Private Statson is clumsy, shy, and very UN-masculine, some would say even feminine. This is exactly what is going to get the Finnish-American in trouble when he goes on his first combat mission to Egypt. German born Sergeant Ulfchlist is a fairly level-headed and polite person (only because he learned polite English, no swear words or slang) but Emerson is going to be in a world of hurt if anyone finds out his secret. Or should we say HER secret?
Private Emerson Statson had been just that for almost four years, Private Statson. Since he was seventeen, he had been stuck a Private because of inadequacy, fear of close spaces, being naked or undressed in front of the other drafts, and had a sever inferiority complex. For four years he had been in the same bunk, under the same chain of command, and sat at the same place in the mess hall for four years. He was shy, careful, timid, weak but very determined. Even if he was the last to finish the course, he never gave up. To make up for his lack of masculinity Emerson had wonderful marks, and that's why he taught one class - the high school drop-out class. When kids were drafted that had dropped from school, he taught them the gist of what they needed to know. Even the drafted seventeen-year-olds made fun of him! He knew why - it was because he had a secret that everyone wanted to know. Only the medics and his current Sergeant knew, and no one else.
But that bad stuff was changing today. Everything had changed yesterday in fact. Yesterday, May 7th of 2026, The Parliament of the Anglo-Turkish people began to push outwards into the Middle East, Bulgaria, Greece, bombed Cyprus and were headed straight towards Egypt. Europe had informed them that the French had agreed to assist and added to the four-country combo army that was headed over there. Emerson still couldn't wrap his head around all of the terminology, so it was just better to stick with what he knew worked for him. Romania had been the first to jump to their neighbor's aide, then Italy, then Ukraine, and now France. So, to Egypt the newest round of fired-up Americans went to protect, and help.
Emerson felt uncomfortable in all the new bullet proof wear he had on his body now and he felt a little sick too, knowing they were about to be dropped at any second to load up into the fighter jets. Emerson could fly a fighter jet better than anyone in his group, and since people who could fly as well as he were rare, he was assigned to be with his new Sergeant, Daniel Ulfchlist. He was a German who had join the US military. He had never told anyone but his higher ups why, but Emerson was glad he was here. Sergeant Ulfchlist was a very large man with cold grey eyes and blonde hair he slicked back with something greasy. He had a square jaw and looked very mean. Emerson felt nervous and safe around him, and he knew it would be alright if such a person were shooting while he was flying. Sergeant Ulfchlist probably could fly and shoot at the same time if he wanted to.
Sergeant Ulfchlist stood and yelled with a very heavy German accent. "Men, we're going down now. You're dropping over a space of land right on the boarder between Egypt and Libya. You are to stay where you are when you land, and I will gather you when we get down there. Understand?"
"Yessir!" a chorus greeted him, even Emerson felt enthusiastic.
It was a rush, the side opened and they all jumped one at a time, falling through the air. Emerson counted to seventeen and released his parachute. He was jerked for a moment from stopping with such force and counted to five. His boots scraped the ground and with a stumbled, Private Statson landed and pulled his parachute in. While everyone else landed, he stuffed it back into the backpack and then dropped the pack on the ground, and crouched, waiting for Sergeant Ulfchlist. A small, dim orange light flashed briefly and everyone gathered, kneeling and waiting for instructions.
"We're going to move all night, so I hope you all have slept well. Follow the person in front of you, one hand on your gun and one hand on their shoulder, got it?"
"Yessir." they whispered collectively and began to move rather swiftly. Emerson lost hold of his gun four times, and had to pee half way through, but he held it so he didn't disappoint Sergeant Ulfchlist. The stars were magnificent though, Emerson had to tilt his head all the way back to see, and got dizzy lots of times staring upwards while he marched forward quietly as possible. Finally, as the sun was beginning to make the sky blue after the sunrise (which had been very pretty) Sergeant Ulfchlist announced they had crossed half their distance and he wanted them to pitch camp there and sleep.
It seemed to make sense to everyone else, but Emerson didn't understand and cross over to Sergeant Ulfchlist and asked, "Sir, why are we sleeping in the sun? Won't we get hot?"
Sergeant Ulfchlist stared at him for several moments, and took off his sunglasses, "Hold old are you?"
"Twenty." Emerson answered, smiling nervously.
"Twenty? And you are still a Private?" Ulfchlist asked, surprised at his age.
"Yes Sir, inadequacy." Emerson answered, lowering his voice.
"What is your name, Private?" Ulfchlist asked, unimpressed by this small young man.
"Private Emerson Statson, Sir." Private Statson answered, lifting his chin, but didn't stand up straight.
"You are very...ah..." Ulfchlist paused, not sure what word to USE for this bizarre person.
"Sloppy, small, weak, stupid, mousy?" Emerson offered, slumping his shoulders.
"M...Mousy?" Sergeant Ulfchlist asked, furrowing his broad brow.
"It means to be frightened easily." Emerson explained, understanding this German man's frustration, "Sir? An observation?"
"Continue." Ulfchlist said, setting down his backpack to beginning stetting up his tent.
"English is not your first language."
"I am German, of course not." Ulfchlist replied, beginning to let annoyance creep into his speech.
"I meant no disrespect."
"No. But you are not very, how do you say, bright?"
Hurt, Emerson nodded and murmured,"That is all Sergeant."
"Dismissed."
Emerson sulked away to the farthest he could get from everyone else and set his backpack down, wondering when he would have to tell Sergeant Ulfchlist the secret. In the end, being his leader and all. First the poles locked together... It would help a whole lot to not have him feel so much pressure, with no one here knowing. At least back at camp, he could go to someone for help in secrecy, but if anything happened and he needed help, there was no one who could help him. No, they were all twisted now, how did he manage that? What if he had some sort of emergency? The doctors at camp knew how to help, but no one here could assist, so technically, even with all these other people, Emerson was alone. Yes, that was how they went, and the tarp folded over, and the, the, the hammer things went there into the dirt.
Emerson pushed down on the first as hard as he could, but the dirt was so hard it was nearly impossible.
"Hey! Statson! Put a little water in the ground!" another soldier yelled, offering advice.
"Oh! No thanks! I'm going to save my water!" Emerson yelled back, and then jumped on the tack, driving it half an inch into the ground. That was good enough to get started. So, he started on another one, but the first slid right out. So, Emerson pushed it in again, this time a whole inch, and went to the other thingie. This happened several times, and by the time he had two in, everyone else was asleep.
"Private. Are you having a problem with your pegs?"
Private Statson whirled around, astonished that he didn't notice the huge shadow that had approached him.
"My...pegs?" Emerson asked, "Sir?" he added.
Sergeant Ulfchlist rolled his eyes and knelt down, "These." he said, pointing to the part that went into the ground.
"So THAT'S what they are called." Emerson said with a smile, "Thanks, Sir."
Sergeant Ulfchlist raised a brow at the informality and very feminine way of responding.
"Uh, yes Sir, I need help." Emerson admitted, "I don't have a hammer, so I've been trying to push them into the ground."
"I can see this, do not speak, they are trying to sleep, now. I will help you this time." Sergeant Ulfchlist said and stood over the first peg. He raised his foot, and slammed it downwards. The peg went right into the ground. He repeated this after pushing it into the ground just a bit to all four of the pegs.
"Thank you, Sir." Emerson whispered, standing to shake the Sergeant's hand.
Sergeant Daniel Ulfchlist took it cautiously, not bothering to remove his gloves,"You are welcome. An observation, Private?"
"Yes Sir?" Private Emerson asked, feeling his hand being squeezed rather tightly.
"You are a very - how do you say - feminine man." Sergeant Ulfchlist stated quietly, releasing Emerson's hand.
"I know, Sir." Emerson replied quietly, looking to his left.
A moment of silence passed and Sergeant Ulfchlist cleared his throat, "Sleep, Private."
"Yes Sir." Emerson replied, straightening awkwardly. Sargeant Ulfchlist walked away, and Private Emma Statson nearly cried because Emerson and she were the same person