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“You Marines!” GySgt. Fuimaono barked, spit flying, as he burst out of the door from the administrative building and pointed at the group of stragglers. HM3 Cooper and Landon met each other’s gaze, they were used to being included under the title, but this was one group neither wanted to be a part of.
“Are you waiting for your families?” The Samoan Warrior’s brown skin was flushed an angry red as he held up a clipboard with papers fluttering in the breeze. They nodded in response, jumping to their feet to figure out what was going on. But Landon felt the muscles in his shoulders tighten.
“Line up,” GySgt. Fuimaono spoke through clenched teeth. He started reading through the list of names from the handwritten roster, motioning for them to step to the side. The men fell out and looked to Gunny for an explanation, but he continued the role call without a backwards glance. Each person that moved away, every name called that wasn’t his, brought back the sinking feeling in his gut and tore at the fresh wound.
Once Gunny had finished, he turned to the troops whose name had been called, “Your families are waiting outside the gates. Get with the watch to arrange transportation to pick them up.”
Landon’s blood ran cold as he pieced together what this meant. They didn’t let anyone in.
GySgt. Fuimaono stepped forward, towering over Landon and the seven remaining people who stood behind him. “The rest of you head to the armory.”
“Gunny?” Landon’s fists clenched at his side. Hate clawing its way over his skin. He wasn’t going on anymore missions until he saw his family again. They couldn’t do this to them.
GySgt. Fuimaono’s expression softened, a split second of worry before he narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t stutter, HM2. Go grab your rifle. We’re going to get our families back.”
