"Sharpen Your Bayonets!"

Ironically, one of the themes of this short story that you are about to read, is that of "determination." Why is this ironic?ーyou might askーbecause here I sit, 10:55 PM, have to wake up in less than 6 hours for work, haven't even started writing in my journal yet (which is a 45 minute process), and it's been one of those weeks were you feel like sleeping 24 hours a day for 7 days straight. BUT... I have set a goal to submit a new blog post every Friday and I even posted one on the day of my brother's wedding, so... late or not... I deliver this week's post to you in determination. (Remember not to give up on your goals and dreams)

Thanks for tuning in again. I dare you to tell a friend about this one or make a post spreading the news, this one is one of my favorites!

On October 12th, 2022, My missionary companion and I met a man on the side of The Thames River, in Kingston-Upon-Thames, London (I think his name was Mike). After some conversation about volunteering work, he told us about how he was in the army in his youth and he was given a rifle with a dull bayonet. For some reason, and I'm sure with some sort of context that I can't remember anymore, he said: "When your Sargent told you to sharpen your bayonet, you knew you would be fighting on the front lines." It inspired me to think about this content idea, but it originally started as a poem idea. Please enjoy!

"Sharpen Your Bayonets!" by Cale Montoya

"Jamison Fredricks, perhaps the most frightened you will ever be, the most ready you will ever become, and the most trusting in unnatural forces you will ever be acquainted with, will be when you hear those nerve-striking words: 'Sharpen your bayonets!'"

As the sound of heavy footsteps against worn dirt filled his conscience, he noticed that the steady beat somewhat matched the rhythm of sweat droplets falling off his head in large increments.

Jamison Fredricks, a well-built, multi-talented, boy by the age of 19, signed up for the military cadets straight out of high school. Knowing full-well that it would break his mother's heart, he had kept his submission a secret until they had sent him the official recruiting acceptance letter and his mom was the first to see it. He wanted to make a difference immediately coming from his basic education, and this is what felt best.

He looked around at his panting fellow-soldiers. Training was definitely no cup of tea, but he'd been a football linebacker for six years prior to his boot camp, so he was all too familiar with the conditioning.

Sergeant Kendall Muck had been running them twice as long and hard as the other teams they observed around the base, but none of them seemed to have any clue why yet. Any time one of the cadets would speak up or ask why the other teams didn't have to run as many drills, as if it came straight out of a movie, the sergeant would command every man to drop and start a countless stream of push-ups.

It had been four months of this rigorous process and Jamison had already seen seven cadets pack their things and head back home on buses. He wasn't giving in though, sweat was his game!

"Alright sissies, leave my sight!" Sargeant Kandall growled, "you are dismissed for the night, am I understood!?"

"YES SIR!!" the exhausted crowd shouted in unison.

Jamison watched some of the guys fall to the ground, breathing heavily out of relief. Eventually, all of them picked themselves up and dragged their feet sheepishly in the direction of the barracks. Yet, Jamison hesitated; there lingered a thought on his mind that he couldn't shake. When he had first arrived four months ago, they ran all of the soldiers through a fitness pacer test and though it was discreet, it seemed as though the "higher ups" sifted them into groupsーranks even. Did it mean that the military forces had bigger plans for his team? It would make sense, given the breakneck training they were undergoing daily.

Jamison hung back and waited till most of the cadets were out of sight and then gravitated over to Sargeant Kendall, who was loading ammunition and equipment onto an armored ATV.

"Sargeant Kendall, sir!" Jamison addressed, standing up straight and saluting, "May I ask a question, sir!?"

Kendall turned around and looked Jamison up and down. "Good form soldier! At ease!"

Jamison shifted his body weight, still standing tall, with his hands now tucked behind his back respectfully.

"You may speak," Kendall replied.

"Sir, I can't help but notice that we are far more conditioned and prepared than any other cadet on base sir," Jamison hesitated, knowing the consequence of addressing the subject, "I also can't help but use my imagination sir... is our section scheduled for active duty and deployment sir?"

Kendall dropped the last piece of equipment firmly on the vehicle and took a few stern steps toward Jamison until their noses were touching.

"And what if you are soldier!?" he hissed, "am I to call you a bus for home and get you a change of pants?"

"No sir!" Jamison spat.

"Listen here cadet, I've seen my fair share of war and bloodshed; I know what it means to fear the fight, and if you don't have what it takes soldier, you will crumble and fall." he stared at Jamison, resisting the normal urge to blink. "Present your weapon soldier!" he then commanded, taking a small step back.

Without hesitation, Jamison took off the rifle and bayonet slung around his shoulder, and then presented it as commanded, holding it firmly outstretched in front of him.

Kendall grabbed the gun and gave it a strict inspection. "You keep this gun fairly clean, are you confident with it?"

"Yes sir!" Jamison replied.

"Do you know why you are given the command to leave the bayonet unsharpened?"

"No sir!"

The Sargeant looked at Jamison's dog-tags strung around his neck, "Jamison Fredricks, is it soldier?" he asked.

"Yes sir!"

"Jamison Fredricks, perhaps the most frightened you will ever be, the most ready you will ever become, and the most trusting in unnatural forces you will ever be acquainted with, will be when you hear those nerve-striking words: 'Sharpen your bayonets!'" Kendall handed Jamsion the rifle back, "Your team is extraordinary soldier. I've been given specific directions to train you cadets in a manner that will prepare you for special ops warfare and deployment can be instructed at any minute."

Jamison's mind raced, he had suspected something along those lines but he didn't actually think he would be right.

"You want my advice Jamsion Fredricks? Live always in the attitude that you are ready to sharpen your bayonet. Don't let the command come as a surprise to you... and if it is, we have failed you, and you have failed you." Kendall looked up at the stars, "Life is short isn't it? A seized opportunity is far more powerful than heavy artillery. Remember that soldier."

Sargeant Kendall put the key into his vehicle and set his right foot inside. "Oh and soldier, drop for 50, you shouldn't assume military strategy without authoritative consent."

Jamison willed himself to the dirt and began his push-ups. He resisted the urge to cough as Kendall's four-wheeler drove off.

--*--

"You're late Fredricks!" the boys said as he finally walked through the barracks doors.

"Wanted a little more discipline?" one of them teased.

Laughter filled the room and woke some of the cadets up. Jamison couldn't bring himself to join them, he stared at his bayonet... should he tell them?

"Hey why the long face?" another soldier chimed in.

Jamison sat down at one of the tables that filled the empty spaces between the bunk beds and set his gun on the flat surface. "There's something you all should know," he shouted loud enough for the room to hear, "you all have been wondering why we have been working double the load, yes?"

"Yes sir!" one of them shouted, jokingly.

The room erupted again and glances were exchanged among the chuckles.

"Come on, hear him out guys!" a voice combated.

"Yeah spill us the news Fredricks," another added.

Jamison sighed, "Kendall has strict orders to prepare us for special ops warfare," he looked around the room slowly, "we are the best of the best boys."

Whispers echoed off the concrete walls but most men stared blankly at the floor, trying to process the new information. One cadet stood up abruptly and buried his head in a nearby trash can, throwing up into it profusely.

A bigger soldier stood up and grabbed Jamison by the collar of his uniform, "You better not be pulling one on us Fredricks," he countered.

Jamison shrugged him off, "Sargeant Kendall informed me that deployment could be instituted at any point of our training," he glanced at the rifle, "and the immediate command would be to sharpen our bayonets."

"Bring it on!" the bigger shoulder tested.

"Is there a way to opt out?" another replied, followed by a few punches from the other cadets.

"How do we know that's not a test?" another questioned.

Jamison sat up straight, "why are your bayonets dull?" he surveyed, "why did they instruct us to prep everything but them?"

The room fell into an eerie silence.

"I'll ask you what he asked me," Jamison added, "does that make you want to go home? Are you going to back out now?"

"That's a fair question," a familiar voice replied.

All the cadets turned their heads to catch a full glimpse of the doorway, where the voice came from. It was Sargeant Kendall.

"Well are you going to answer him?" Kendall added.

The soldier who had thrown up stood up tall and saluted Kendall; slowly, and with every ounce of individual nerve, each cadet did the same.

"We're staying sir!" the bigger one shouted.

"Is that so for all of you!?" Kendall contested.

"Yes sir!" they all replied in a somewhat hushed tone.

"I asked a question soldiers, IS THAT SO FOR ALL OF YOU!?" he screamed.

"YES SIR!!" the men shouted back.

Kendall pulled a stamped envelope out of his uniform jacket pocket and took out the parchment inside, "Then I hereby inform you that as of immediately, you are hereby called to be deployed on your first special ops mission. You will make preparations to depart tomorrow at sunrise, do I make myself clear!?"

"YES SIR!!" they replied again, taken aback.

"Jamison Fredricks, step forward!" Kendall demanded.

Jamison came forward and looked Kendall in the eyes.

"Say hello to your new platoon leader boys," Kendall smiled. He looked around the room at all the determined faces, "Men, sharpen your bayonets!"

Jamison couldn't help but smile, he was terrified, but he was ready.

-Cale Montoya (10/20/23)

If you have read my other recent posts, you know by now that there is always a "piece of me" in my stories. Did you catch it in this one? Look again if not! The phrase: "no cup of tea" is, surprisingly, one commonly used by people of all cultures. It means "not easy" or more complicated than the mere action of "making tea." As you know, Tea is a major trademark for the United Kingdom, and therein lies your answer, it's my second home!

Okay, so the theme and style: Like I mentioned in the introduction to the content, this story was originally formatted to be a poem, but I wanted to portray more of a message that I felt like a parable would do justice. Preparation and readiness is a largely talked about topic in today's day and age and at first glance, this short story can be a basic advertisement on the subject, but I want to reveal my thought process.

In Matthew Chapter 25 of the New Testament (Bible), Jesus Christ teaches his disciples the parable of the ten virgins. You may recall the story of the filled and not-filled lamps and how they tell the story of preparation. To refresh your memory, verse three and four say: "They that were foolish took their lamps, and took no oil with them: But the wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps." There are two clear groups in this passage, ones who are ready for when the bridegroom comes and ones who are not.

In my story, Sargeant Kendall tells Jamison: "perhaps the most frightened you will ever be, the most ready you will ever become, and the most trusting in unnatural forces you will ever be acquainted with, will be when you hear those nerve-striking words: 'Sharpen your bayonets!'" Similarly, the call to "sharpen your bayonets," in this short story can symbolize the coming again of The Savior Jesus Christ.

"And at midnight there was a cry made, Behold, the bridegroom cometh; go ye out to meet him." (Verse 6) I.e. "Sharpern your bayonets!"

I've made my point, you can put the rest together. But just remember, one day we will be called in a likewise manner. When that day comes, will your lamp be full? Will you sharpen your bayonet? Will you be ready? ーFood for thought!

Check in next week!

-Cale Montoya