Graphite was seating at the dinner table in the dining room eating, his father Granite was just across the table enjoying the meal of pea and carrot stew; his mother Ambrosia was in the kitchen washing the dirty dishes. Ambrosia just finished up the plates and was placing them into the cabinets. She was an averaged sized earth mare. She was aged, but wasn’t old. Her coat was a fine champagne colour with a matching tan coloured mane - only a few gray hairs here and there. Granite was no different from his father, it could be easily seen Graphite was his son. He had a similar rock gray coat and a silver mane, only his was cut slightly shorter. His eyes were about the same deep blue. Granite was only a year older than his wife. She kept focused on the plates, but she didn’t let it interrupt the conversation she was going to strike up, “So, what did you do today, Graphite?” She asked kindly.

Graphite swallowed his mouthful of food, turned to his mother, and replied, “Well, the usual - but I did go down to the recruitment offices and enlisted for the EAMC.”

His mother dropped the plate in her hoof in shock; almost shattering it to pieces against the counter-top. She turned to him with a slight worry in her voice, “You did what?”

“I-I joined the army,” Graphite answered, a little concerned.

“But there’s a war going on. You’ll get sent straight to the front lines!” She raised her voice, storming up to the table.

“Mama, don’t worry, I’m a stallion now and I can take care of myself.”

“What if you get killed? You’re our only son, there’s no pony more special to us than you an- Granite, talk to him!”

Granite didn’t seem to notice, he was still trying to finish his stew. Ambrosia hit his shoulder, knocking the spoon from his hoof. He gulped down what he had in his mouth and cleared his throat, “Well, your mother’s right, boy - the military is very dangerous.”

“You could be a little more worried for our son, Granite!” Ambrosia snapped at him.

He sighed, taking a moment to think about what to say next, “Maybe, um... you could have came to us first and talked about it?”

Graphite didn’t know what to say, he didn’t want to trouble them anymore, “I thought about it for long time, and I-I- uh... I just thought it was the best decision to make...”

Ambrosia was still in major shock; she believed she might lose her only child, just because he thought it was a good idea. She pulled the seat out of the table and sat down next to Granite. She was speechless - they all were - Granite simply continued eating his dinner.

“Mama-”

“You don’t have to say anything; I guess I don’t really have anymore say in this than your father - and your father doesn’t seem to mind... do you really think this is the right thing to do?”

“I do, Mama, that’s why I did it.”

“We just want the best for you, Graphite.”

“I think our boy is old enough to make his own decisions,” Granite butted in.

Ambrosia took a breath, and let out a short sigh, “Okay.”

Graphite felt a burden lift of his chest, he was happy, but he knew his mother was still just a bit unsure. He picked up his plate of stew and trotted over to the sink. He turn the faucet on and placed his dish under it. The water flowed down his hooves, but his face feeling a bit wet - like he was sweating.

A drop of water hit his eye.

Graphite opened his one eye, he was lying in bed with storm clouds just above him. That whole conversation was just a dream, but it didn’t feel like one. It was more realistic, like he was actually there talking to his parents. His head was slightly numb, but that’s when he realized that the dream was a memory. The rain looked foggy and dark, almost black. It felt weird on his fur, so Graphite got out of bed as fast as he could. He grabbed his duster from the floor and laced it around him, then went for his bag that he leaned against the desk. He was just about to make it out the door when he remembered the pistol on the side table; he grabbed it using his magic and tossed it into his, strapping the lid down. His room was being soaked down by a dark liquid that wasn’t going to let up soon. The clouds above were just as dark a black as the rain itself, almost blocking out the light from the moon.

He checked his Pip-Buck for the time - 1:15. It was way to early to be awake, especially for Graphite. He moved down the stairs down to the first floor. Graphite yawned when he got to the floor, searching around for a place to sleep. To the left of the front desk was another room. He tried that one.

He got up to the door, the numbers were torn off, but the imprint of the number ‘1’ was still on the door. He tried the lock, but it came off in his hoof. He grumbled, pushing the door down with a little thrust. The door swung open, hitting the wall nearby. There was the same cloud of dust that seemed to infest this building, but he noticed the room was empty. All the drawers were pulled out of the desk, the wardrobe was wide open, and the sheets on the bed were thrown into the corner against the side table. The pillow was even missing. Not a trace of anything remained in the apartment, some pony or some ponies ransacked the entire room. Graphite’s only worry was for the bed, and luckily no pony took that. He dropped his gear against the foot of the bed, and dropped into the mattress. He didn’t even bother to get comfortable, he just let his exhaustion take him back to sleep.

Graphite was standing cramped together between two other ponies in the train-cart. The train started coming to a stop, the sounds of the steam engine blowing out puffs of smoke started to gradually lose it’s tempo. Graphite couldn’t see out the window, some pony’s head was blocking the view, but he could tell they were nearing the train station. The train jolted when the breaks hit the wheels. A loud screech bounded out from the chassis, slowly halting the train’s movement. The train finally came to a stop, a loud hiss coming from the breaks. The train doors opened up, the orange light flooding inside the cart. Graphite blocked the rays with his hoof, and so did the his fellow train riders. A porter was standing out on the platform, guiding the ponies off the train.

“Every pony needs to head straight for the train station. Those who are here for the marine course, the military police will be there to further inform you!” The porter directed.

Everyone piled out of the train in a hurry - they all wanted to get out that cramped, sweaty train-cart. Some of them even pushed and shoved their way out, but eventually they all made it out, with Graphite at the rear. The group walked into the train station, shoulder to shoulder just like before. Graphite was glad he was in the back, now he didn’t have a pony breathing down his neck the whole time. He entered the train station, it was as wide as a hoofball field and three times as long. There was definitely enough room to fit every one of these cadets - and more. The station’s ceiling seemed to touch the sky. Brass chandeliers hung above, illuminated every inch of the building with a solid light. The ceiling was a golden brown wood, each panel had a matching carving shaped into a diamond. The walls were a darker tan colour, made of small bricks that went down to the tall slab of marble that made up the foundation.The floor was a gorgeous work of design; there was one long, white section of marble that created a walkway across the centre of the station with a series of coloured stripes racing down it. The rest of the marble floor was a red-ish brown marble, made with small square tiles. The train station was nothing he had ever seen - and probably ever will see. There were rows after rows of chairs lining the sides of the building. He looked back to the pack of cadets; ahead of him, he saw a pony standing in the middle of the aisle.

“Attention cadets!” Shouted a red pony in a tan shirt. The pony also wore a black metal helmet and a black armband, both of which had ‘MP’ written on them. That obviously was the military police pony about which the porter had told them about.

As soon as the pony shouted, a group of ponies including Graphite separated from the rest of the crowd and walked up to the red pony in the uniform. The MP started to count the ponies,

“Alright, there’s thirty of you. That means ten ponies in each of the carts. Come on recruits -- double time!” The red pony yelled again and pointed towards the side exits.

Everyone picked up their pace and soon reached three carts that stood outside. The carts were long, wooden carts with a rounded, green tarp covering the body of the cart. There were four ponies, all wearing ‘MP’ gear, were at the end of the reins ready to pull the cart. The first two groups piled unto the carts quickly; Graphite was in the last group and they got on the cart just as fast.

After getting in the final cart, they moved out. Once again, he was squeezed in between other ponies and could barely move. On the way, none of the ponies spoke, they all looked down or out the end of the cart. At times, someone sneezed or coughed, but no words interrupted the gentle rocking of the cart. The landscape became ever more serene the further away from the train station they traveled. The trees and the brush started to come into bloom, some lilacs came into view just to the left of the bumpy dirt road. Graphite was arched over, looking out the end of the cart and thought about only one thing - ‘Was joining the army the right thing to do?’ He had no doubts in is mind when he signed up, but now he wasn’t so sure. Maybe he should had thought this through just a little while longer - but it was too late now. There was regret, but then there was excitement. He made into the armed forces and was going to carryout a great service for his land. Graphite could just think about his decision; the ponies wouldn’t speak, and there was nothing else to do. He knew it was too late, but it was only his right to think back on it.

After an hour of being cramped into the wagon, it suddenly stopped. The cart’s wheels ground against the gravel, kicking some small pebbles against the tarp. Every pony suddenly woke up from their thoughts and their sleep.

“Alright cadets, out of the carts - let’s go!” Declared the deep voice of a forest green stallion standing outside the three carts. Graphite had heard that same yell back at the train station, “Once you’re out of the cart, form a line!”

Everyone piled out of the cart as fast as they could and lined up quickly, just as the drill sergeant told them to. Graphite seemed to never escape the feeling of standing shoulder to shoulder with another pony - by now he had gotten use to it.

They stood out in a flat, treeless field; in front of them was a large fence, made out of a metal net and laced with barbed wire. Behind the fence were a row of small, wooden barracks that made up for the barren landscape. Another row of slightly larger buildings, probably for the officers. The bigger buildings stood watch over the barracks, casting their superior shadows over them. There were other ponies standing outside the barracks talking and going about their own business. Behind Graphite, there was an obstacle course. It started off with a random assortment of tires along the ground; it moved into a short sprint before you had to dive down and belly crawl underneath a layer of barbed wire; a large, wooden wall with ropes strung to the top came next; the obstacle course took a curve right, into a pit of thick mud; after the run through the mud, there was another barrier over the course - making you crawl through the mud now. After that, the rest of the course was obscured.

Soon, a white pegasus in uniform came out walking from nowhere. His uniform was a tan button-up shirt, a plethora of badges and medals were decorated on the left of the shirt; he wore a big, round hat that made a big bowl over his head and a surrounding it as the rim. He stood tall and had his chest out, he was very built and had a very harsh and serious countenance. He stopped just midway of the group of cadets and called them to focus.

“Attention!” Pronounced the white stallion, “I am Sergeant Typhoon and I will be your drill instructor! When I ask you something the answer is and always will be ‘Yes Sir!’ Do you greenhorns understand me?”

“Yes sir!” All of the cadets responded without missing a beat.

“This gorgeous building complex behind me is the Camp Sequoia. After you leave this camp - after three months of training - you will be an instrument of war! But until that day, you’re the lowest form of life in the whole of Equestria! You’re all worthless bags of maggot shit and not even worth the dirt around your mother’s grave! Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir!”

“I can’t hear you!”

“YES SIR!”

“Good, now I want every single one of you whorish slime balls to grab your gear and head for your barracks - now!”

“Yes sir!” Every cadet responded, making a mad dash for the gear that lay in rows just adjacent to where they stood. It was packed up in green duffel bags.

Everyone grabbed their gear, fumbling around to put on their uniforms. Graphite finally got to his duffel bag and opened it up. Inside were a small box with a toothbrush in it, a towel and the cadet uniform. The cadet uniform consisted of a tan, button up shirt; the design never went any farther than the cotton stitching and generic sand coloured buttons. He pulled the shirt over him and buttoned it up, rushing to keep pace with the other cadets around him. He finally got his uniform on, the drill sergeant came back in front of the crowd of cadets.

“Everyone dressed? Good! Head out for the barracks; I expect to see your sorry asses in there in three minutes!”

“Yes sir!” Everyone screamed again, grabbing their duffel bags and running for the small brown buildings that scattered across the grass and dirt. They got up in groups of ten once again, marching towards the barracks ahead.

They all reached the wooden buildings and shuffled inside. Inside, were small wooden beds, covered with a green blanket and a white pillow - all lined up against the walls. At the end of the room, there was a small, black metal stove. The body of the stove was a big block of metal with two doors - one for the cooking tray, the other for cleaning out the inside; the stove stood on four stumpy legs and one long chimney protruded upwards and up to the ceiling. Graphite didn’t see any use from the stove, seeing as it was the middle of summer. They each walked inside the room and took the nearest bed which hadn’t already have a duffel bag next to it.

Graphite got a bed almost at the very end of the room. He sat his bad down and sat himself down on the hard mattress, unsure of what to do next. They had no further directions, so they all simply awaited for the drill Sergeant to arrive.

A few of the ponies down at the end of the room were already starting up a conversation. A few of them gathered around each other, showing off whatever they smuggled into boot camp. A pony brought in a tiny bottle of whiskey, another snuck in a pin-up, and another bringing in a packet of cigarettes. They passed the trinkets around, talking and laughing about their things like toys during ‘show and tell.’ Graphite just lay in his bed, looking up at ceiling. Another cadet came by, taking the bed just adjacent of his. He was eager to take the bed, throwing his duffel bag right down on the mattress. Graphite tilted his head over to take a look over at his new neighbor.

It was just about that time when the drill sergeant stormed into the barracks. The cadets with the smuggled items panicked and fumbled about to hide their items again. Everyone jumped to their hooves, giving a salute to Sergeant Typhoon. The sergeant’s eyes were unwavering, fixed only forward. He trotted passed every pony until he reached the end of the room - without a word. He turned about, and faced the recruits, taking a moment to scan over all of them, “I hope you ass-wipes can hear me!” He hollered, letting everyone back to their usual business, “I hope you sheep-fuckers get to bed early, ‘cause we start our schedule tomorrow! It’s early rise next morning - o’four hundred hours on the dot! So... everyone of you in your beds ASAP!” Typhoon ordered with a swing of his hoof.

“Yes sir!” Everyone replied in unison.

Each and every pony in the room hopped into their beds, slipping under the covers, and lying down in no more than a couple of seconds. One pony even had to turn the lights out before jumping into his bed. Their eyes were shut tight and they didn’t make a peep or a movement - they were all ‘asleep.’

“Hope you cock-suckers have nice nightmares, because we’re going into one tomorrow!” With that, the sergeant bolted out of the barracks and head off to wherever he was going. The so called night was barely dim, the sun was still out - but only enough for the orange of the sunset to beam through the small windows around the barrack. A few bits of whispers and low toned voices came from the grey.

“Psst... hey!” A voice whispered from the bed next to him, “The grey guy, uh what’s your name?”

“Me? Oh, my name is Graphite - you?” Graphite whispered back.

“I’m Spotty, nice to meet you!” The pony in the bed next to him extended a hoof. Graphite held out his hoof to give him a friendly hoofshake across the space between the beds and returned the gesture.

“Where ‘you from Graphite?”

“I’m from Carnen, down in Buckago. What about you?”

“Bucklyn, Manehattan.”

“Manehattan? I’ve never been there myself.”

“Well I haven’t been to Buckago neither”

“Hey, is it really like in that song?”

“Which one?”

“You know, ‘Manehattan, where all the mares are soaked in satin...’ that song!”

“Oh, yeah, I know what you mean. For the mares downtown sure, but I couldn’t say that for any mares I know.”

“Do you know a lot of mares?”

“Heh,” Spotty chuckled, “I guess I could say that I know quite a few...” He gave Graphite a wink and a cocky grin, he was proud of his accomplishment.

Spotty opened his mouth again, “Graphite! Breakfast is done!” He shouted, but his voice sounded like it was coming from little Adan.

Graphite sat up, opening his eyes just slightly and rubbing them with the back of his hoof. Adan was sitting on Graphite’s chest, he couldn’t feel a thing because of the thick armour plating. Adan looked at him with the same innocent eyes that he usually brings about him, and had a nice big smile on his face. Graphite almost jumped, but relieved to see it was just Adan.

“‘You say breakfast?” Graphite rebutted.

“Yes! We have some nice bread and water waiting for you downstairs!” Adan jumped to his hooves, but was still standing on Graphite’s chest.

“That’s great... I’ll be down as soon as you get off of me...” Graphite said, just ready to pick Adan off of his chest himself.

“Okay!” Adan bounded off Graphite’s armour, and landed hooves first unto the floor. He went ahead and sprinted out of the apartment room, his hoofsteps could be heard jumbling down the stairway. Graphite swung his legs over the edge of the bed, stopping right on the edge. He couldn’t understand how a boy could be so happy for a breakfast of stale bread and water - but he was just as eager for it as if it were country smoked hay and eggs. He got to his hooves, heading straight for the door and the stairway to the basement. The furnace in the corner was still going strong, illuminating the room with it’s swaying, orange glow. The family was seating around the table with their breakfast of bread and water - a pitiful sight for Graphite.