Battle Dress by Amy Efaw Read Free Book Online Page A

killing people,” he said, his voice echoing in the tunnel.
    We walked through a door and into a room with three barber chairs. A Hispanic woman stood with a female cadet, the first upperclass female cadet I had seen all day. The cadet was taller than I and had short blond hair. Her lips twisted into a sort of grimace when she saw me, and turning to the woman beside her, she said, “Looks like you’ve got yourself another victim, Maria.”
    Cadet Daily nodded at the female cadet, then looked at Maria. “Do you have time before the parade?”
    “No problem,” Maria said, selecting a comb from her pocket and motioning me into a chair. “Should only take me five minutes.”
    Five minutes?
    Maria must have seen my eyes, because she spun me away from the mirror before grabbing big chunks of my hair and chopping them off. I watched my sixty-five-dollar haircut, less than a week old, flutter to the floor. When she finished, she turned me around so I could see the result. I’m normally not the kind of person who’ll throw a fit if her hair doesn’t turn out exactly how she wants it. But when I saw the straight, flat hair cropped close to my head where my short, bouncy bob had been, I could feel my throat tighten and tears form in the corners of my eyes.
    “You don’t want to be too cute here, Miss,” the female cadet said to my reflection. She looked almost triumphant, like Cinderella’s stepsisters must have looked after ripping her pretty dress to rags before the ball. The cadet leaned closer, her blue eyes locking with my brown. “Be outstanding,” she whispered. “But don’t stand out.”

CHAPTER 4
    MONDAY, JUNE 28 5:00 P.M.
The first qualification of a soldier is fortitude under fatigue and privation. Courage is only the second; hardship, poverty, and want are the best school for a soldier.
    —NAPOLEON BONAPARTE, THE ART OF WAR, MAXIM LVIII
     
     
     
    A THOUSAND NEW CADETS AND I marched onto the Plain. Standing at attention in perfect rows, we faced our families. About eight hours had passed since we’d last seen them. We’d spent those hours transforming while they’d been busy waiting. I could feel the excitement all around me.
    I quickly scanned the crowd for a glimpse of my family, wondering if they’d even bothered to stay. But I didn’t spot them. I was actually a little disappointed—I wanted them to see me standing here, to know that I had made it through this day.
    Together we raised our right hands and pledged to “support the Constitution of the United States and bear true allegiance to the National Government. ...” Then, marching in four columns, we moved off the parade field. Left behind was the cheering, waving, picture-taking throng. Rank after rank marched forward for as far as I could see—down a road, away from the granite buildings, North Area, and the Plain.
    Well, that’s it. No going back now.
    “DRESS IT RIGHT AND COVER DOWN ...” sang an upperclass cadet, marching to the left of Third Platoon, my platoon. All the members of Third Platoon echoed him, imitating his inflection and volume. Four squads made up Third Platoon; Cadet Daily and the three other squad leaders marched abreast, leading their squads of new cadets behind them. I remembered “dress right” and “cover down” from marching practice earlier in the day. Stay on line with the guys on your left and right, and directly behind the guy marching in front of you.
    “FORTY INCHES ALL AROUND!” Third Platoon new cadets surrounded me on all sides. I felt as if I were just one bottle among many within a living, breathing Coke crate, rolling down a conveyer belt. And the space between me and any of them—“forty inches all around.”
    “MOMMA, MOMMA, CAN’T YOU SEE?” The cadet who marched alongside us had a great voice, smooth and soulful. A voice that should’ve been captured on a CD somewhere, breaking hearts.
    “WHAT THIS ARMY’S DONE TO ME!” I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye. He’s the