"Failure is not an option!" Sargent Slattery heard the low murmur. "Who said that?" he growled. Scanning the newly enlisted men, his eye caught MacDermett, looking at his poorly polished shoes. "MacDermett." The recruits didn't dare speak or look, but they subconsciously separated themselves from the targeted Private. "Repeat what you said, so the rest of us may enjoy your wit and witticism."
MacDermett was constantly tired, hungry and bruised. He had not volunteered, and if it weren't for the current desperation of the military for warm bodies, he would never have been drafted. MacDermett was small and, when he entered the training, horribly out of shape. He was much smarter than the average recruit, which was lead to much of his unhappiness. MacDermett cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. "I said, 'Failure is always an option.' Sir."
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