All the elaborate little things you have to on the test may seem random and unnecessarily complicated, unless you know the history of the CFT. So, you know, here it is.
World War II. The night was as dark, literally, as the darkness that was to come, metaphorically. A full moon did not appear in the sky. The only sound was extremely loud rain and thunder. In a dark and desert digital camouflaged tent, Captain Owens chewed his cigar grimly as he stood between Delta Squad and a map of Stalingrad.
"Men," he said, "This is my last patrol before I ship back to the States to marry my pregnant fiancé. So if it comes down to a choice, one of you try to get shot instead of me. Now, our route takes us through this general area." He circled the entire map with his finger. "And we expect to encounter Charlie in this general area." He continued circling the map. "Any questions?"
Private Timmy raised his hand. "Can we expect reinforcements, Sir?"
"Geez, I hope so. Alright, check your ammo and stay frosty. The ROE is FFA and the thumbstick is inverted. And one more thing. Some of you are brand new to this combat thing. If you start to lose your head, just remember the mission of the Marine Corps rifle squad. Close with and destroy the enemy. Let's move out!"
The squad crept through the jungle in a wedge right formation. Lance Corporal Johnson whispered to PFC Reynolds. "You gonna do what the Captain said?"
"Hell no. I got two fiancés. That order implicitly excludes me. What about you?"
"I'm saving up for a house. I ain't got a fiancé, but I'm gonna load that bitch up with fiancés once I get it."
Timmy chimed in. "I'm gonna buy a castle, with a fiancé in every tower and a moat full of puppies."
"I ain't got much goin' on," said PFC Tyrone. "I'll take the bullet for the Cap. And the rest of you, I guess. Good thing I'm so wide."
Johnson said, "Shit Tyrone. You're one stone cold motherfucker."
"Damn straight bitch." They executed Delta Squad's highly elaborate secret high-five.
Timmy whispered to Testley, "Sergeant, is it true what the Captain said, about Charlie being in this general area?"
"Yeah, they're out here. Just shoot them with your bullets and you'll be fine."
"But Sergeant, I've never fired accurately before."
"What? Not even in boot camp?"
"I got pizza boxes. A whole lot of them. I ate pizza when I should have been target practicing."
Testley let out a heavy sigh. "Well, it's too late for practice now. Just keep your head down and I'll do the bullet shooting." He saw Johnson and Tyrone still working on their high-five. "High five walking, gents! You're falling behind!"
In slow motion, muzzle flashes appeared in the distance. Zipping sounds alerted the squad to the bullets flying by their heads at lightning speed. Lightning flashed at bullet speed. As if on instinct, every man ran in a random direction, screaming.
Owens found cover behind a tree, and once he was safe, thought of his men. "Get down, you stupids! Consolidate!"
Testley low-crawled to him. Owens was watching the muzzle flashes through his rifle scope. "Fuck," he said.
"What is it, Sir?"
"Fuck, fuck, fuck. They're eight hundred eighty yards away."
"But we're only trained to hit a human-sized target at five hundred yards."
"What do we do?"
"Well, you can forget about getting shot for my sake. It looks like we'll all be getting shot by bullets tonight."
"We can't give up just like that."
"Son, part of being a leader is knowing when to give up. Or deciding when to give up."
Testley was removing his helmet and flak jacket, stripping down to his skivvy shirt and trousers.
"What the hell are you doing?" said Owen.
Testley stood up. "Closing with and destroying the enemy, Sir."
Will Testley run 880 yards and, I guess, beat up the enemy? It won't be much of a spoiler if I say, "Yes." But if you want the details, stay tuned for the next post!