How not to fight with the Russians or the Short Course of a Young Fighter
The satire
Dear Mom! Our company tomorrow is sent to the Camp-Ledge training ground, which is in North Carolina. There used to be Marines trained for our victorious wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, and now they will prepare for a victorious war with Russia. These russians are very insolent, they interfered in our elections, as well as we took away the island of Crete from Ukraine, as our corporal Jones told us. We'll practice, and then we'll show these drunks what the US Marine Corps is. I'll write to you as soon as I arrive. Your son Cody.
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Dear Mom! So we arrived at the place. There's a forest around. This is good, since all the Russians also live in the forest, as our corporal Jones told us. In the middle of the forest is a real village. It used to be Iraqi, but now it was converted into Russian, only here and there were palm trees. But Corporal Jones said that the Russians on the Black Sea also have palm trees, so everything is in order, because soon we will be there. Not far from the villa stands the barracks, where we placed our company. Tomorrow we were promised a surprise, and I'll tell you about it. Your son Cody. ----------------------------- Dear Mom! Wow! Imagine, we will have a real mass meeting! It turns out that the naval department has recruited Russian-speaking extras to portray Russian soldiers and peaceful villagers, by the way, in Russian, the villa is "derevna". Everything will be like in this Hollywood blockbuster! Your son is now Bruce Willis! Is not it cool? There are about thirty statisticians, all emigrants. Drivers, builders, sellers, IT specialists, a couple of teachers, several women, and one even with a small daughter of five. For someone a hundred bucks a day, good money, and someone just went out of curiosity. Men wore Russian jackets of cotton wool, boots and caps with a star, and women dressed in broad colored skirts and wrapped in large scarves - all like in real Russia. The guys and I just hunted over looking at these clowns. Tomorrow we start training. Be sure to tell you about your impressions! Your son, Cody.
Dear Mom! It was just great! Three of our platoon broke into this derevnu from three sides as a hurricane. We quickly put a dozen extras in the ground with decommissioned non-working AKs, dispersed and proceeded to sweep. Two stood on each side, I knocked out the door, quickly threw two grenades into the house, ran back, after which the guys let go inside the clip through the windows.
The women of the statistics were shouting in Russian "Save!", Everything was in smoke, some Russian music sounded, and it smelled strongly of manure. Lord, how do these Russians live in such conditions? They're just pigs.
In general, we had a good time. Corporal Jones for Hochma gave the queue single over several statistics, they were frightened, and we hardly tore our bellies from laughing. ------------------------- Dear Mom! Today we worked out the tactics of anti-guerrilla warfare. Male extras hid, and we had to find them. In order not to waste time and not to search for stinking houses that smelt of dung, Corporal Jones offered an excellent idea. We drove all the statistics into a barn and, through the loudspeaker, announced that if the extras of the "partisans" did not leave in three minutes, then we set the shed on fire. Nobody came out. Then Corporal Jones led the girl to the statistics, took away her teddy bear, cut off his head with a tactical knife and shouted that the girl next. It seems to me, Ma, that Jones overdid it. The girl burst into tears, and then there was one extra, some puny type with glasses. He silently approached our corporal and punched him in the jaw with the butt of a decommissioned non-working AK. The application, as it turned out, still worked quite well. The beautiful white teeth of our corporal flashed in the sun and fell about two meters from the place where the corporal himself collapsed. We all stood like a thunder struck, ma. To take and strike an armed two-meter marines USA in the face could only be a savage, without honor and conscience. And then the girl came up to the insensible body Corporal and a few times joyfully kicked him with his foot on the ribs. Where did they collect them all - in the jungles of Siberia? The boyfriend of our corporal squealed, snatched his Colt, loaded with live ammunition, and began to shoot at the frail. But I did not get it, because because of the tears, ink came out. But from all the cracks on us rushed extras with some terrible screaming "Rura!" Or "Yura!". I did not have time to hear, because something hit me hard on the hard hat, and I lost consciousness. When he came to, it was already dark and no one was around. I'll get out of this damn base. I'll write to you tomorrow, and then my tablet is already flashing and something is moving anxiously in the bushes. I'm scared, ma. I want to go home to California. Your son, Cody.
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Dear Mom! Comrade corporal of the reserve put me in an outfit on the toilet and I have a minute to write to you. I serve well. Corporal Jones is also okay, he is standing on a nightstand and loudly shouts "Shamirno!" If a senior lieutenant of the reserve enters the barracks or comrade sergeant-major. All day we have now painted by the minute. Then painting the grass, then sweeping the paths with tassels for shaving, then drill with songs. I have already learned the song: "The soldier has the exit buttons in a row." One of the three platoons always dug into the parade ground. The standard is five minutes, the trench is in the full profile, who does not fit - goes to inflate the Hamvi wheels without a pump. But it's still better than pumping a tank pump with a hand pump, so that the tank rides gently. I have good news for you! The Marine Corps Command finally concludes secret negotiations with extras and we will all be released, in exchange for a subscription, that the extras will not tell anyone how thirty civilians took 200 marines captive. They were promised to pay again, and that girl will be given three plush bears and five Barbie dolls. By the way, she became friends with Corporal Jones and often wore sweets to him when he cried on his nightstand. The Russians turned out to be kind people - we are all alive and well, thank them for that. So soon I have a demobilization! I already began to sew to the camouflage gold-plated aiguillettes and completed the demobilization album. See you soon! Your son, the spirit of the first month of service, Cody.
