The number of times Steve had tried to enlist in the army was either a show of great pride for his country, or a serious act of stupidity. Anyone who looked at the 95lb, just barely pushing 5' 4", asthmatic kid from Brooklyn would never have thought he stood a chance of being accepted into the army, let alone chosen for Project Rebirth! And still, time and time again, and countless forgeries of papers to make him look even a little better in the eyes of the men at the recruitment station always came to the same conclusion. Steven Grant Rogers just wasn't meant for the army. He would complain to his best friend Bucky whenever he got the chance, telling him that he wanted nothing more than to help out his country in some way. And thankfully, that some way soon came.<br/><br/>They had been at the Stark Expo, Bucky had gone off with some girls - not that they ever paid Steve any mind anyway - which left Steve free to wander once more to the recruitment station. There, to his luck, he met Dr. Erskine, the man who would change everything. He had given Steve a chance! Something so many others had refused to do. As soon as they got their eyes on his medical history, he was out without a second thought. But Erskine had seen something, something other than the near constantly sick blond who survived on pennies and fighting with people three times his size.<br/><br/>He had been brought to the camp with the other soldiers, given a uniform, and a too big helmet and was expected to keep up with all these guys who had probably passed the tests with flying colours. Steve just barely made it through, though part of the problem was from the other guys who, much like the bullies Steve had grown up with, loved picking on the little guy. Struggling through the courses, outsmarting the others on a few things, Steve was soon given the whole speech on this project, the one that, should everything go as planned, would make him into a super soldier. But first, he was required to go through some additional training. Of course this didn't exactly bring great delight to the man who was ready to start this thing, but he had to follow orders. He wasn't the spitfire on the streets of Brooklyn defending every dame and helping every little old lady he met. No, he was a soldier now.<br/><br/>So naturally when he had been instructed to wait for this man to get here Steve was a little wound up and a little ticked to go along with it. Sitting at the table in one of the mess tents, Steve rested his chin in the palm of one skinny hand, his elbow on the old wooden table as he idly drummed on it with his other hand, and blew the fringe of blond hair out of his face. If anyone had seen him, they never would have thought he was to be anything but a liability. He hoped whoever this guy was wasn't expecting some jacked up muscles, because he would be sorely disappointed.