Gray Girl by Susan I. Spieth

Dogety noticed the next morning.
    “What the hell, Wishart ?   You look like you have chicken pox.   What's going on?”
    “No excuse, Sir.”
    “Seriously, you put something on your
face or what?”
    “No, Sir.”
    “Well, what happened?   You look like you got some rare
disease.”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    “I ASKED WHAT
HAPPENED, WISHART?”
    “I don't know, Sir.”
    “It was probably something you ate.”

 
    Day three into Lake Frederick, Dogety handed Jan a padded helmet attached to a goalie
mask.   “ Wishart , put this on!”   He tossed her a padded vest, like a
baseball catcher’s.   “This, too.”
    “Sir, what is this for?”  
    “You’re first in the Pugil Boxing ring.”  
    What?   Pugil Boxing?   Dogety led his squad
to an open area with a ring of stacked sandbags.    The other squads from Second Platoon
were already seated on three quarters of the sandbag ring.   Fourth Squad filled in the remaining
quarter.   Dogety motioned for Jan to step in the ring.
    Jan stood in the center of the
makeshift ring, wondering what she was supposed to do.   Dogety handed
her a long stick with padding on each end.   “Don’t embarrass me, Wishart !”   he said before
stepping out of the ring.  
    Before Jan could contemplate the
situation any further, she heard a familiar, wild scream.   She twirled around just in time to see
Wright leaping over the sandbag wall between two seated new cadets.   She wore the same outfit as
Jan—padded helmet with mask, chest vest and the long padded stick.   Oh
shit!   Not Wright!
    Wright immediately began pummeling
Jan with the Pugil Stick.  
    Cheering rose up from the circle of
new cadets—mostly yelling for Wright.   But one voice shouted, “C’mon Wishart !   You
can do it!”
    Do
what?   Jan began to hit
back.   She took a few jabs at
Wright, who was clearly the Alpha dog in this fight.   Jan felt sick to her stomach.   Her mind raced back to the first time
she rode a roller coaster.   I just want it to be over!   Please let it be over!   
    Wright’s smile, beaming through the
facemask, belied her intent.   A left
jab, out of nowhere, knocked Jan off balance.   Then another on her right sent her
falling backwards.   She found her
footing and swung back, but Wright ducked and came up with another blow at
Jan.   The circle of new cadets
continued to cheer for Wright except for one voice shouting for Jan.   With jellied knees, she swung a few more
times, once hitting Wright in the arm.   Still, it wasn’t even close.   Wright pummeled until Jan fell down on both knees.   Wright was declared the victor and two
more new cadets were chosen to do battle in the Pugil Boxing war.  
    Once everyone took a turn in the
Gladiator ring, Cadet Jackson dismissed the platoon for dinner.   “ Wishart ,
stand fast,” Dogety barked.   Jan stood at attention by the sandbag
ring while everyone else ran off.    “You gave up, didn’t you?”  
    How
should I answer that?   Jan
didn’t want to say yes or no.   Neither
one would be quite right.
    “Didn’t you?” Dogety asked again.
    “Yes, Sir.”
    “What the hell, Wishart ?   Why did you give up without even
trying?”
    Um, maybe because I don’t know how to
physically fight?   Or because Wright
scared the shit out of me.   “No
excuse, Sir.”
    “You continually perplex me, Wishart !   Why are
you even here?   Where do you think
you are exactly?”   Jan couldn’t
think of a good answer.    “Do
you think you can just give up in war when the enemy seems to have the
advantage?   Geez, Wishart , you aren’t at Girl Scout camp for God’s
sake!”  
    I
know, I know, but….
    “Do you have anything to say for
yourself?”
    “No excuse, Sir!”
    “ Wishart ,
sometimes you are a sorry piece of shit.”
    “Yes, Sir.”

 
    Last in line again for the dinner
meal, she picked up a tray and entered the Mobile Serving Station.   An Army specialist plopped what looked
like chili