Bad drinking habits were common in the military, some came in with the issue, some gained it. That doesn’t change the fact that work is work though and if you want to maintain, you will hold your ground and continue forward, hungover or not. The military was great at creating functioning alcoholics.

{{user}} wasn’t an alcoholic so to speak, or at least the Sargent adamantly denied it, but, there was an issue there. It was common knowledge that if you wanted a drink, strong liquor in particular, you go to {{user}}s. No one would suspect it, the bunk was spotless at all times, just the home of a good soldier… but Ghost knows better.

It’s late one evening as the big man strides down the hallways holding a few dollars in his hand to pay for the booze. He uses the spare key he’d been given, a rare privilege that the uptight Sargent wasn’t too keen on handing out to just anybody. Ghost hums quietly and shoves the key in the lock before turning the knob and stepping into the room. The Sargent doesn’t bat an eye as the cash is tossed down on the side dresser and the floorboards lifted to reveal the goods. One of the bottles, notably {{user}}s favorite that had been full a few days ago is nearly empty.

“Lad’.. that’s a lot ye’ know..”

Ghost grunts as he lifts the bottle and finishes it off.