Star Corps by Ian Douglas

was concerned. Whatever they dished out, he could take. He was a Garroway now, in name as well as by birth.
    He did wish Lynnley were here, though. She’d flown out from Tiburón to Charleston, while he’d accompanied his mother north to San Diego first, then caught a sub-O flight out of Salton Spaceport. They’d planned to meet up at the Charleston skyport yesterday, but all incoming female recruits had been rounded up as soon as they arrived and whisked off to some other receiving area. He’d found himself herded on board the ancient magbus with thirty-seven other young men and the taciturn Marine sergeant.
    That sergeant was taciturn no longer. “ On behalf of Major General Phillip R. Delflores, commanding officer of this installation, and on behalf of the United States Marine Corps, welcome to Parris Island,” he bellowed, somehow making the ear-ringing yell effortless, somehow doubling the volume of select words for emphasis, as though a bellow was his normal and everyday manner of speech. “I am Staff Sergeant Sewicki, and my assistant here is Sergeant Heller. I will keep this short and simple, so that even brainless civvy maggots like you can understand.
    â€œThis is my island, this is my Marine Corps, and you maggots are my responsibility! Today you are embarking on a twenty-one-week course of Marine Corps recruit training, commonly known as boot camp. You are not at home any longer. You are not at school, you are not in your old neighborhood, you are not back in the world that you once knew. During these next few weeks, you will obey all orders given to you by any Marine. Just so there’s no confusion on this point, you people are not Marines. You are recruits . You must earn the title of U.S. Marine. To do that, you must prove to your officers, your drill instructors, your comrades, and yourselves that you are worthy of the uniform and the title of a United States Marine! Do you recruits understand me?”
    The question was greeted by a mumbled chorus of “Yes,” and “Yes, sir,” and even the occasional “Sure.”
    Sewicki exploded. “ When you open your maggot mouths, the very first word you utter will be the word sir! The very last word your maggot mouths utter will be the word sir!…Do you understand me?”
    â€œSir, yes, sir!” was the response, somewhat ragged and quavering.
    â€œNo! No! No!” Sewicki’s eyes bulged, his face reddened, and for an instant John wondered if the man was going to have a stroke. “ What do you people think this is, the goddamn Army? When I ask if you understand me, when I give you an order, the correct and proper response is, ‘Sir, aye aye, sir!’ Do you understand me?”
    â€œSir, aye aye, sir!”
    â€œâ€˜Aye, aye’ means ‘ I understand and I will obey!’ Do you understand me?”
    â€œSir, aye aye, sir!”
    â€œWhat? I can’t hear you!”
    â€œSir, aye aye, sir!”
    â€œAgain! Louder!”
    â€œSir, aye aye, sir!”
    He cupped a hand to his ear. “What?”
    â€œSir, aye aye, sir!”
    â€œYou!” He spun suddenly, face and forefinger inches from the face of a terrified recruit three men to John’s right. “What is your name?”
    â€œSir! H-Hollingwood, sir!”
    â€œHollywood! What kind of a name is that?”
    â€œSir—”
    â€œLet me see your war face!”
    â€œS-Sir! Aye…what?”
    â€œLet me see your goddamn war face! Do you know how to make a war face? This is a war face! Arrrr! Now you do it!”
    With his eyes rigidly front, John could only imagine what was going on, but he heard the recruit give a terrified yelp.
    â€œThat is pathetic! You do not frighten me, Hollywood! Hit the deck! Ten push-ups!”
    The recruit dropped.
    â€œ On your goddamn feet, Hollywood! What did I just tell you?”
    â€œSir, I—”
    â€œ When I give you an order, you