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A/N: I have deleted the original True Brothers and started a new story which takes place in post-9/11 America. This is a working title and will be changed. Any not specifically cited reference to persons, places or events real or fictional is entirely coincidental. I myself have Neurofibromatosis, and haven't seen any stories or biographies about people with it. I want this to be very good, so please nitpick the hell out of this.
Recruiting
The recruiter, Staff Sergeant Lennox sat there perplexed at what the kid sitting in front of his desk had just told him. This eighteen-year-old Aidan Callahan had just told him that he wanted to join the U.S. Marine Corps with an infantry military occupation specialty, yet after seeing his medical records, the Staff Sergeant did not even think he would make it through recruit training, let alone survive under fire. Under other circumstances, he would have taken the kid on right away, what with an ASVAB score of ninety-three. However, this was a special case.
Lennox gave the applicant the once over and frowned. Aidan was not what he would call Marine Corps material. He stood no higher than five-nine and had a lean but toned build with a head of short, wavy, jet black hair and blue-green eyes. His face featured a closely goatee and moustache, giving him a ruggedly handsome look. His forehead had two small but noticeable café-au-lait spots. He wore a short sleeved Houston Astros t-shirt and denim shorts.
“I hate to say it,” said the recruiter insincerely as he shrugged. “But I doubt you’ll make it in the Corps.” Aidan gripped the arm rests of his seat as if to hold his exasperation. “You should know that the training regimen is very demanding and you sometimes get ten or even twenty percent of recruits washing out; and I’m talking about people in perfect health. It’ll be a waste of time for both you and the Marine Corps.”
To the Staff Sergeant’s surprise, Aidan’s eyes narrowed menacingly and he responded through clenched teeth, “Sir, I’ve been facing closed doors all my goddamn life!" His voice was rather deep for someone not even twenty. "Do you have any idea what it feels like, sir? Knowing that you’re an able person when given the opportunity, yet no one accepts you because you’ve been through surgeries, or get neurological pains, or because of a slightly weakened hand?” The applicant then raised a closed right hand in what was meant to be a fist to emphasize this speech.
Lennox was going to respond, but Aidan cut him off. “Please, give me the opportunity,” he said. “I wanted to be a Marine ever since the Nine-Eleven attacks. Just give me a chance to prove myself!” He seemed very sincere in his desire, but SSgt. Lennox had to abide by the laws.
“I will give you the opportunity, Mr. Callahan,” stated Lennox and the younger man breathed deeply as if to calm himself. “But the final decision of whether or not you will be able to serve will be decided at the MEPS station.”
“I understand, Staff Sergeant,” stated Aidan grimly. He knew that he would have to go through the tedious MEPS screenings and that would sure be no walk in the park. However, the young applicant was confident that he would pass.
“Very well,” said the recruiter as he stretched out his arms and cracked his knuckles. “You will report to the MEPS station in Houston to get processed in. I’m going to fax these files over there,” Lennox told the applicant and then he handed him a few forms to fill out. “When you go there, I suggest you take your own car so you can leave immediately after you finish…there’s always someone with a problem that could take forever. I do hope you pass, Aidan. You seem like a very committed and motivated young man.”
“Thank you, sir.” He began to fill out the forms. Once he finished, the recruiter placed the paperwork in a file and handed it back to the applicant along with a manual for new recruits.
“Would you prefer immediate shipping, or would you like to enter the Delayed Entry Program?” asked Lennox. "Well of course you'll have no choice but to go into DEP if they decide it at MEPS," he added as an afterthought.
“I would prefer to ship out as soon as possible,” replied Aidan. “I’ll have to check with my parents first, though. I need their signatures anyway” In response, the recruiter extended his right hand and the applicant grasped it with his and shook it as SSgt. Lennox said, “Good luck, Aidan.”
It had been two weeks since Aidan graduated high school and he could not have been happier to get out of there. After four years of being educated by mostly mediocre teachers, and witnessing the stupidity of much of his fellow adolescents; it was a relief for him to finally be finished with it. It was also nearly three years since the surgery that caused his right hand to weaken significantly. However, the intense therapy helped strengthen it a little.
With an A-B average and a SAT score of fourteen hundred to his name, Aidan could easily get into a good university, but he had no idea what he wanted to do or what field to go into. That was one thing that contributed to his desire of wanting to become a Marine, other than his pride in America and desire to serve justice. Another was the fact that he absolutely abhorred having his abilities underestimated. Aidan would show Lennox… he would show everyone that he was capable!
At last, Aidan pulled into the driveway of the ranch estate where he lived with his older brother Connor, his stepmother Karen, his father Kevin, and fifteen-year-old stepsister Fiona. His real mother, Bonnie had died from leukemia when he was eight. The medical system had saved Aidan’s life twice, but it was unable to save a strong healthy woman? His mom was a saint of a woman…she didn’t deserve to go in such a horrible way and at such a young age. Her passing had changed the family forever. Aidan learned at a very young age how cruel life can be to the good and that he had to stand on his own two feet. Connor, who was always on bad terms with his younger brother, became closer to him than ever. It was as if the former felt that he was at fault for what happened. As the youngest Callahan male had his mother’s eyes, that, among many other things contributed to his father becoming all but overprotective of him.
Aidan could only imagine his father’s reaction when he would tell him what he was planning to do. Kevin Callahan was an English teacher who could only be described as a man who lived only for his family. He would probably not be too happy when his youngest son would tell him the news. His stepmother, a romance novelist who grew up in Northern Ireland, however would probably support him, though. She understood Aidan's situation probably better than he did himself.
The Callahans lived on a large ranch estate with nine buildings. There was the main house, four barns, a chicken coop, and two stables for the horses they bred. The ninth building was a private lodging for the head ranch hand, Bob Smith. The rest of the property featured several corrals where the animals were kept during the day and fields of crops. Aidan parked the car and made his way to the front door. In front of the porch stood two flagpoles; one bearing the American flag and the other bearing the Texan.
Before he could go inside, a red pickup truck parked in the driveway behind Aidan's car. The man driving it was Bob. Bob was an elderly yet a very strong and healthy man in his late sixties with a weather beaten face, dark eyes, and a short white beard. On his head was white cowboy hat adding to the "redneck" stereotype. Aidan had known the head ranch hand ever since he was born and considered him something of an uncle.
Once the ranch hand exited his truck, he grinned broadly at Aidan. "Hi there, kiddo," Bob called out to him in his deep, mellow voice. Aidan nodded at him in turn. "How'd it go?" The older man inquired concernedly to which the younger one shrugged.
"Same old shit," said Aidan nonchalantly. "Different day." Bob chuckled at the young man's deadpan comment and bade him farewell.
Aidan entered the house to be greeted by his dog; a black and white border collie who jumped on him. “Heya, boy,” whispered Aidan, scratching the dog behind his ears. The front door led to a foyer with a staircase leading to the second floor. To the left was the family room and to the right was a corridor with an entrance to the living room and at the end was the kitchen. From there was a door which led to the backyard which featured a patio, and pool.
So, he went upstairs. A nap was in order before going to work later. He worked as a clerk in the videogame section of an electronics store.
His room was large with a bed by one of the windows, a desk with a computer and several papers scattered on it and a dresser with a TV on top. There were also shelves filled with books, DVDs, and videogames. Displayed on one of the walls were several swords he bought over the years, an Winchester M1895 hunting rifle, and a Remington 1100 shotgun which was also used for hunting. An assortment of his drawings, mostly inspired from his favorite books and videogames, hung on another wall along with posters of his favorite heavy metal bands. A sliding glass door led to the balcony. Just as Aidan sat on his bed, his cell-phone rang. “’Lo,” he answered.
“S’up, Aidan,” said his brother’s singsong voice. “How did it go?” He was referring to the double MRI session the former had before meeting SSgt. Lennox.
“Just peachy,” replied Aidan in a deadpan tone.
“Smartass,” muttered Connor. That had not been the first time he had been called that today, the latter reflected with a smirk. The other time was when they took him out for the contrast injection. “Well, I’ll see you later then.”
“Bye,” answered Aidan and he shut off the phone. He then kicked off his sneakers and fell asleep. This had been a long day and it was not over yet.
When Aidan exited his room and went downstairs, noting the enticing smell of homemade food in the air. His dad, mom, and Connor sat in the kitchen, setting up the table. Fiona was up in Upstate New York attending summer camp for now. Aidan grimaced at the thought of camp, as he had been attending one every summer since he was eleven. It was one the catered to Catholic kids, teens, and young adults from all over the world who had cancer and/or neurological or terminal illnesses. The genders were seperated by session. He would really miss that place.
Kevin was a tall thin man of forty-two with short blond hair, green eyes and a good-natured face. Karen was a petite and athletic woman of thirty-nine with brown hair and blue eyes behind square glasses. She had been part of Aidan’s life since he was twelve and both he and Connor considered her their mom.
Connor was almost an exact mirror image of his and Aidan’s father. Only he had a shorter stature like his younger brother. “How was your day, lad?” inquired Kevin as his youngest son began filling his plate with food and took a seat in between Connor and Bob.
“It was okay, I guess,” replied Aidan shrugging.
“Were the MRI's hard?” asked Karen concernedly. She spoke with a strong Irish accent.
“It was hell,” muttered Aidan truthfully, a glare working its way on his face. He had to spend two hours enduring the pains in his legs, right arm and hand. It also didn't help that they had to repeat some scans due to Aidan coughing. “But I’m okay now.”
“If I could take all this shit yeh're goin' through in yer stead, I’d do it in a 'eartbeat,” declared his mom. Aidan smiled at that statement. He wouldn’t have expected anything else from her. As he began to eat, Bob spoke.
"You look like got somethin' to say," said the ranch hand. "And I'm gettin' interested."
Aidan then took a drink of his Dr. Pepper and decided not to beat around the bush any longer. “Guys,” the youngest Callahan male piped up. “This may seem sudden but, I want to join the Marines as an infantryman.”
Kevin and Karen looked up at their son slowly and Connor dropped his fork, which fell with a clang on his plate. The father was apparently too shocked to talk as Aidan anticipated; Karen looked at him understandingly, Bob half-smiled, but Connor voiced his opinion vehemently. “Are you kidding?” he asked incredulously. One look at his younger brother’s face answered that question. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“What, you think I’m incapable?” retorted Aidan conversationally even though he was close to losing his temper. He would not be swayed by anyone’s opinion. The only thing that would stop him was if the Defense Department themselves would say that he was unqualified!
“That’s not the point!” snapped Connor slamming his fist on the table. “Are you aware that you can be killed, or worse; captured by the terrorists there?”
“Don’t patronize me, Connor!” said Aidan angrily. “I have more of a chance getting killed in a car accident on the way to work than I do in Iraq! You’re a bad liar to say that my neurofibromatosis isn’t contributing to your worrying. You know damn well that I’m a very capable man when given the opportunity! I hardly ever got one light-headed spell or pain while at work, and never when I'm constantly on the move!”
Connor opened his mouth to respond but his mother put a hand up to silence him. “Aidan,” said Karen bluntly. “If that’s what yeh truly want to do, then I’m supportin' yeh all the way.” Well that was reassuring. At least someone was on his side in this decision.
“But-” protested Connor but his father cut him off.
“That’s enough, Connor,” said Kevin sternly. “Your brother's a grown man now, and he is quite capable of making his own decisions. He knows his own limitations and if he believes he can be a Marine, then we must give him our support. After all, it’s better to put your life on the line for a noble cause, than spending a lifetime of doing nothing.”
"That's goddamn right," Bob concurred.
The elder of the two sons bent his head in defeat and said to his brother, “You know I’ll support anything you do. I’m just…afraid. I don’t want to lose you, man.”
“You won’t,” Aidan assured him, his annoyance subsiding. “Hell, I have to go to MEPS first. It’ll be up to them to decide whether I’m able to serve or not.” The subject was not taken any further. After finishing the meal, he left the house to go to work.
Aidan entered the lobby with a handbag over his shoulder and Marine Corps paper folder in hand. It was an atrium with an indoor stream flanked by fake trees and undergrowth. The twenty floors of the hotel overlooked the atrium.
He walked over to the front desk where an elderly woman greeted him. “Welcome to the Alamo,” she said with a notable 'Southern drawl'. "You have a reservation?”
“I’m Aidan Callahan; I was told to come here for MEPS,” said Aidan, placing his arm on the counter.
“Oh,” she replied, and looked in his computer. The receptionist then handed Aidan a keycard and told him, “You're in room 2025, but before you go up there, the manager would like to have a briefing with you and some other applicants.”
“I’m right here,” said a curt male voice. The receptionist rolled her eyes in obvious dislike as a short, haughty looking man with a pinstriped black suit strode over to him with a clipboard in hand. “I’ll take care of this.”
“Yes, Mr. Rhodes,” replied the receptionist.
Rhodes then placed the clipboard on the desk and ordered, “Read these carefully and sign it.” The younger man was slightly taken aback by the manager’s ill-mannered tone as the former did as told. It seemed as though courtesy was only reserved for paying customers and that the millions of dollars that the Defense Department paid was not enough for this prick.
“Be in your room by ten o’clock sharp,” stated the manager. “You’re not to leave the hotel grounds at any time. Do not drink, or do drugs, gamble, or cause any trouble, you understand?”
“Yes sir,” replied Aidan.
“Good,” said the manager. “Sit down over there and wait for a briefing.” He pointed to a sitting area where five people were seated and disappeared into his office. Aidan sat in an empty spot on a sofa next to tall, muscular Middle-Eastern man about a year older than him with short slicked back black hair, brown eyes, and a tanned face. He also had a Marine Corps folder.
Two black men, one with an Air Force folder and another with an Army folder sat on another couch. A confident looking boy who had to have been no older than seventeen sat on an armchair with a Navy folder on his lap, and a girl with a Coast Guard folder, about the same age as Aidan sat on another one. The Middle-Eastern man turned to him and stated, “I’m Nour Ahmar.”
“Aidan Callahan,” replied the red haired applicant. They shook hands. “So, you’re also joining the Corps, huh?” Nour nodded in affirmation.
“I’ll be a third generation Marine,” he stated with pride. “I’m going for machinegunner. What about you?”
“Rifleman if all goes well,” said Aidan and Nour chuckled. He looked at the latter quizzically. “Uh, I missed the joke. What’s funny?”
“It’s just that every poolee I know is either going grunt, or to administrative duties,” explained Nour. “If I may ask, what do you mean by ‘if all goes well.’?”
“Long story,” answered Aidan, leaving it at that and before anything else could be said, the manager arrived with more packets of paper in hand. He handed one to each applicant. It stated the guidelines for the night’s stay. There were meal tickets clipped to the document.
“Read everything because you will be held accountable for any infractions even if I don’t go over it with you!” snapped Rhodes. “First and foremost, you are only permitted on your own floor, the lobby, the fitness room, the pool area, and the restaurants at mealtime only, of course. You can order outside food but it will have to come out of your own money.
“If you cause any trouble or wear anything inappropriate like very revealing clothing, obscene material, et cetera; you will not go to MEPS!” Again, Aidan felt an immense dislike for the hotel manager. Rhodes was addressing them as though they were ill-behaved elementary school students who would tear his precious cathedral apart.
“You’ll be receiving wake up calls at three o’clock,” Rhodes continued. “Breakfast is served from three to four-thirty. If you’re not on the bus by four-forty-five, you can find your own way of getting to MEPS, because I won’t help you. Furthermore, if you don’t return your keys, that’ll also keep you from going to MEPS. That is all.”
The applicants filed out of the lobby went about their business. Aidan and Nour made their way to the twentieth floor where they would share a room with a third man. “So why are you joining,” asked Nour curiously. Aidan thought about it for a second.
“I feel like it’s something that has to be done,” explained Aidan. “I want to do something useful for the world.”
“Indeed,” said Nour. “I guess I’m joining for the same reasons as you, and I have my own personal reasons for wanting to be a grunt.” He slid the key into the door and opened it and elaborated, “Mainly because I’m of Iraqi descent." Nour then slid the key into the slot.
The two men entered a combination bed-sitting room where another young man with shoulder length dirty-blond hair and hazel eyes was lying down on the couch, watching a movie on the TV. He was shorter than Aidan but had the same build. “I take it you’re my roommates?” he said, stating the obvious. He then sat up and stretched out his arms. “Yoav Gonen,” he said conversationally, pronouncing his name with a strong Israeli accent, “Marines.”
“We’re also going Marines,” replied Aidan, gesturing at Nour. “I’m Aidan, he’s Nour.” The latter did not seem to mind that he was introduced by someone else. Yoav nodded and the three men filed out of the room to hang out in the lobby and pool area. Aidan found that Yoav was also going for infantry. Finally, by eleven that night, the trio of applicants settled in to sleep. Tomorrow would be a very long and tedious day.
“I usually like to start my summer days after eight AM,” stated Nour, rubbing his eyes. It took both men about a minute to get dressed, before Yoav flicked on the lights, temporarily blinding the other two applicants.
“Ahh, bright light, bright light!” complained Aidan and the Israeli man rolled his eyes.
“You guys ready?” he asked and Aidan grunted in response. “Well then, let’s go.”
After a satisfying breakfast, the eighteen applicants filed out to the hotel entrance where a bus was waiting. Aidan approached the bus driver and told him, “Uh, I’m going to be following you.”
“’Kay,” replied the driver. “I’m just going to drop these guys off at the front. You’ll have to get your car checked in and go through other security measures.” As the driver prepared to leave, Aidan went back to parking garage to get his car. He frowned again at the sudden pain in his shin. Odds were certainly not in his favor, he thought as he drove after the bus.
It took only a few minutes to arrive at the MEPS which was at a federal building . The security guards had checked Aidan's ID and made a thorough search of his car. This made the applicant worry that he might be late. However, they found nothing and waved him through.
At length, Aidan arrived at a three story building where he parked and exited his car with a plastic bag containing his legal papers in one hand his handbag over his shoulder. The applicants were rallied in front of the bus, perhaps waiting to be addressed, so he joined up with Nour and Yoav. “What’s going on,” Aidan asked.
Before anyone could answer, three armed men clad in Army battle dress uniforms marched out of the building, each carrying hand held metal detectors. “Before we begin,” barked a Master Sergeant. “Is anyone carrying any guns, knives, or anything that can be constructed as a weapon?” Nobody answered, but that did not sway the sailors.
“Set your bags on the ground and unzip them,” ordered a lower ranking Soldier; an Private First Class. Aidan immediately carried out the order as the higher ranking man approached him, and began to inspect his bag. The Soldier seemed satisfied until he pulled out a small medicine container.
“Care to explain this?” growled the senior noncommissioned officer.
“It’s for my pains,” explained Aidan. “Weren’t we supposed to bring all our meds if we’re on them,” the applicant added. The SNCO glowered at the younger man’s response.
“Don’t get cute with me, pal,” he hissed, taking Aidan aback. The Master Sergeant then addressed all the applicants. “Alright, now you will be split up by department. Navy, Coast Guard, and Marine Corps, to the right; Army, to the left; Air Force, you stay in front of the bus. Nobody move until instructed otherwise.”
Aidan, Nour, and Yoav entered the classroom and took seats in front of a podium. Just as the three applicants were seated, a tall black man clad in Alphas marched up to the podium. He had the insignia of a Staff Sergeant on his sleeve.
“Good morning,” he said curtly. “I’m SSgt. Jones and I’d like to welcome you to Houston MEPS. I’m just gonna quickly go over the rules of this facility with you. You will be answering lots of questions and filling out lots of forms. If you lie to anyone or on anything, it’ll be considered fraudulent enlistment and you will be subject to court-martial. They find you guilty; you’ll spend up to two years in prison and receive a dishonorable discharge. Let me impress upon you one more time: do not do it!
“If you've already taken the ASVAB less than three months ago, you will wait in the lounge until further instructed. Do not slouch or fall asleep, ‘cause it won’t be tolerated. There’s an arcade with snacks that you all are privileged to use during your free time, but keep it clean or it will be locked. Now, how many of y’all have taken the ASVAB?” Aidan raised his hand and the Marine looked at the applicant’s file. “Well then, boy, you’re fine. You wait in the lounge until it’s time for your medical evaluation.”
“Yes sir,” said Aidan and he exited the classroom to an area of comfortable looking couches where another applicant was sitting. He took a seat, starting to feel light-headed, which was the last thing he needed. The man sitting across from him looked at Aidan with worry.
“Dude, you okay,” he asked, leaning forward as the younger applicant was starting to feel faint. Aidan shook his head and the other applicant handed him a bottle of water. He took a long drink and set the bottle on the coffee table. “Feeling better,” asked the other man.
“Yeah,” grumbled Aidan as he leaned against the back of the couch. “It happens sometimes…and thanks. What’re you joining?”
“Navy,” replied the other applicant proudly. “I’d like to be a FMF Corpsman. I was a paramedic, but I feel my skills will be better suited to the military. What about you?”
“Marines, hopefully a rifleman,” stated Aidan, the light-headedness subsiding quickly. “Who knows, we may end up working together. That is if I get past today’s tests.”
Then a curt voice announced, “Hey, you two!” Both men turned to a Petty Officer in his late twenties. “They’re ready for you. Let’s hustle it up!” The applicants were led through another corridor with medical examining rooms. “Callahan, you’re in Exam Room G, Aguilar, you’re in L.”
Aidan entered the exam room where a nurse was waiting for him. He took a seat on the table, and was handed a clipboard with several forms unceremoniously. “I’ll come to check how you’re progressing in ten minutes,” stated the nurse as she left.
The papers were one long questionnaire of one’s medical history. Aidan began filling out the form and began writing concise explanations of the conditions he had, yet omitted nothing. Forgetting to mention even the smallest detail would be very bad later. Once he finished, he waited for about twenty minutes until the nurse came back pushing a cart with a syringe and four tubes for containing the blood she was about to draw from the applicant.
“Right,” she said, taking the forms. “Stretch out your arm and make a fist,” the nurse ordered. After Aidan was finished with the blood test, the nurse gave him a small cup. “I don’t have to tell you what I want you to do with this.”
After about two and a half hours of waiting in the lounge, the results of his urine and blood tests came back negative on all counts. During that time, he was rejoined by Nour and Yoav who both looked weary. “How did the ASVAB go,” inquired Aidan and Nour put his face in hands ashamed. Yoav smirked at this action.
“Well, we both passed,” explained Yoav. “Nour here just scored eleven points lower than the total he hoped to get. He got eighty-nine, and I got ninety.” Aidan shook his head, his lips curling into a faint grin. “It seems our Arab friend here’s an overachiever and doesn’t accept anything less than a hundred percent.”
Nour gazed up at Yoav in indignation. “I’m not an overachiever! I’m just pissed that I did so poorly in the math section, even though it’s my specialty! And what is wrong with me being an Arab?"
"I mean nothing by it," snapped Yoav.
The door to the exam corridor opened and the nurse who drew blood from Aidan emerged from behind the door. “The doctor will see all of you now,” she announced in a bored voice.
The nurse led the Marine prospects to a large room at the end of the corridor. It was almost completely empty save for a table along the wall. It had no windows and was lit by a bright white light.
The Navy doctor was a stern faced middle-aged man clad in a white lab coat. “Strip down to your boxers please,” he said, and the three Marine applicants quickly shed their clothes. The doctor gazed at the incisions on Aidan’s chest and neck, giving him a look that said he would discuss this matter with him later.
The physical consisted of the applicants positioning their arms and legs in many different positions. The doctor also had them perform several exercises such as rotating their wrists, duck walking, and lifting their limbs to many different positions. He then took each of them individually behind a curtain where he searched them for hemorrhoids.
Following the physical was a vision and hearing test, both of which Aidan knew he would pass. The second to last stop was the one he dreaded the most: the individual interview with the doctor. It was where it would be decided that Aidan would go on to San Diego for recruit training, or that he just wasted his time.
As there were only three Marine Corps, one Coast Guard and two Navy applicants, the process took much faster than expected. Aidan was second in line to be interviewed. The doctor seemed very understanding of his situation and found nothing disqualifying. Aidan had done it…he was in the Marine Corps!
“First of all, congratulations on making it past the first steps to the fulfillment of your dreams of becoming United States Marines,” he stated. “You are now about to embark upon the three month journey to earning the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor. Well, I’m not going to hold you guys up any longer. Everyone raise your right hand!” Aidan, Nour, and Yoav raised their right arm in a ninety-degree angle. “Now repeat after me.”
“I, Aidan Callahan, do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that will bear true allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States, and the orders of the officers appointed above me, according to regulation and the Uniform Code of Military Justice.
“So help me God!”
Aidan could not believe it. He now actually had the chance of becoming a Marine! However, he knew that this was only the easy part. He would now have to endure boot camp. He, Nour, and Yoav would leave in two weeks for the infamous Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego, California where they and many other new recruits would face one of the toughest challenges of their lives.
