Stand-to-Arms: Get up Get Moving Get After it.

BLUF: The days are evil, and while you lay comfortably snuggled under your goose-feathered comforter, hoping to squeeze out another ten minutes of rest, today is plotting your demise. It waits to ambush you. If you don't wake up before the first light, before the enemy, today is going to beat you down. So, get up. Get moving Get after it.

Short Story

The swift boot to the ribs jolted Arthur awake. The harsh alarm startled the British soldier, provoking thrashing limbs and desperate survival instincts.“Stand-to-arms, chap,” the officer whispered.

Arthur shrugged off his wool blanket and glanced down at himself. His khaki-colored uniform was tattered and caked in a viscous brown-grey mud. Industrial warfare and human remains mixed with the earth, creating a sullen crust on everything.

Blinking to clear the fog of sleep, Arthur strained his eyes to check his Lee-Enfield rifle, his “Tommy.” The December air bit at his exposed skin in northern France, urging him to quicken his actions before first light. The trench fighting of this Great War had stretched into eternity, and the precision of German artillery felt unrelenting.

He worked the bolt to clear the .303 ammunition, ejecting each round until the magazine was empty. His Tommy, remarkably, was the cleanest thing on him. Forcing his hands out of their wool mitts, he grabbed a bronze brush from his cleaning kit. The Enfield needed to be ready—pristine—for any potential attack. Scrubbing the barrel clean of powder and copper fouling, Arthur applied bore cleaner to patches, wiped the bore, and meticulously maintained the bolt.

The process was laborious in the bitter cold. Arthur’s bones ached with every motion. Exhaustion clawed at him; time itself felt like a vortex, trapping him in this hell. He couldn’t remember his last hot shower, his last decent meal, or the last time he’d slept without interruption from artillery fire.

A nudge from a remaining comrade snapped him out of his despair. His mate handed him a steaming tin cup of tea. Their eyes met briefly, and in that moment, something shifted in Arthur. A familiar switch flipped in the back of his mind, replacing self-pity with cold aggression.

He didn’t know if Jerry would attack today, but if they did, he was ready to return the hell he was enduring in that moment.

Inflection

What is it that is going to catch you flat-footed?

Is there something in your gut that you feel unprepared for?

Are you tired of fighting the same battle and losing to a more prepared enemy?

A Call to Stand-to

For the Warrior that would listen. To the reader who needs this reminder. This is your wake-up call. This is a call to arms. A reminder to stand to arms. A reminder to prepare yourself for the onslaught of each day.