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"Then why did he get the first ACS battalion?"
"They knew that it was going in harm's way so they assigned a good solid combat commander; there aren't that many choices. And, as always, there are political considerations. The Marines got to decide what unit got the first ACS on Barwhon and Airborne got to decide who got it on Diess. I would have preferred someone who was a little more flexible, but older and wiser heads decided, for whatever reason, that the first group should be the two/three twenty-fifth and the commander should be Youngman. Lieutenant Colonel Paul T. Youngman wouldn't like another lieutenant colonel `advising' him, much less a lieutenant, so you're just going to have to use as much tact as possible. I can't get free right now and you're the next best choice."
"What about Gu
"He's taking the same position with the Marine detachment on Barwhon, so, Tag! you're it. And you won't have much support here or there; since the design phase is over and production is in gear, our star is on the wane."
"So after the eval what happens?"
"What I hope happens is that we both get combat commands. You deserve a company. But ru
"That's stupid, with all the old war-horses they're rejuving, that should go to somebody who last heard a shot fired in anger in 'Nam."
"Don't worry about it, Mike. You and I are warriors. If there is anything that history teaches us, it's that at the begi
11
San Diego, CA Sol III
0822 November 5th, 2001 AD
Ernie Pappas was a United States citizen born in the Territory of American Samoa. In 1961 at eighteen years of age, he enlisted in the United States Marine Corp as a private. Samoans are an odd and desired commodity in the United States military. Odd because along with generally Herculean physique they have distinctive Polynesian features that stand out among a sea of medium-sized black and white. They are desired because along with the aforementioned Herculean physiques come sharp intellects and unflappable personalities. Samoans attain rank fast and commanders with Samoan NCOs argue strenuously for their unit stabilization beyond normal periods. Their reenlistment rate is high.
In 1964, Lance Corporal Pappas married sixteen-year-old Priscilla Walls of Yemassee, South Carolina. This marriage violated several taboos in the eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Walls. First, although not Negro, Lance Corporal Pappas was of "color." In 1964 in Yemassee, South Carolina, white girls, even lower income white girls, did not marry people of color. Second, Missy Priscilla, their Baby Prissy, was underage for such things; although marriage among her peers, and her parents' peers, had occurred as early as fifteen. Third, the young man was an enlisted marine. Although Priscilla considered this a step up in life—her peers could be most kindly referred to as "lower income rural"—her parents were of the opposite opinion. Lower income rural had been good enough for her grandfather, a share cropper, and great-grandfather, a share cropper, and it was better than a "chink jarhead." (Mr. Walls' knowledge of the Territory of American Samoa rivaled his knowledge of nuclear physics.)
Despite these facts, the Walls signed the obligatory papers and stood before the justice of the peace with Prissy's sister acting as matron of honor and Lance Corporal Pappas' gu
It was now November 5, 2001 AD and retired Master Gu
Mrs. Earnest Pappas was clearing the breakfast dishes and from thirty-seven years experience correctly judged his mood as black. She even knew the reasons for his mood.
The reasons were twofold. Despite the fact that he had given them three good-looking grandchildren, all college graduates, had never raised a hand to their daughter, had been faithful to her and had attained for her a standard of living the envy of her siblings, he was still intensely disliked by his in-laws. The fact was unstated but obvious that the feelings were mutual. He therefore regarded her parents' upcoming visit both with a
For thirty years Earnest Pappas had trained for a defining moment: the defense of the United States. But the war bearing down on his country would be borne upon the backs of the young men, the hale. He was just a broken down war-horse, too old to be of any use.
His, he thought, carefully concealed dank mood was shattered by his wife handing him a mailgram. It had his name and social security number in the address window and the return address of a well-known Department of Defense bureau located in St. Louis, Missouri. With a feeling of utter disbelief, under the shuttered eyes of his wife he carefully wiped off a knife, most recently used to section a grapefruit, and applied it to the envelope. Within was a multifolded document which read:
Dear Sir:
Pursuant to Presidential Directive 19-00, you are ordered to report to CAMP PENDLETON, CA MARINE BASE, no later than 2400 HOURS, 20 NOVEMBER, 2001, for duty. Failure to report will be prosecuted under Section 15 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice: Failure to report for hazardous duty. All requests for waivers on the basis of age, civilian position, health or compassion shall be considered after reporting.
Public transportation may be compensated using the attached vouchers. These are good for air, train, bus or taxi, but may not be used to reimburse travel by personal vehicle.
DO NOT BRING: personally operated vehicles, personal weapons, radios with attached speakers, large musical instruments or ANY communication devices to include cellular phones or pagers.
Do bring: 1 (One) week's civilian clothing, uniforms, toiletry items, small entertainment devices, radios or music players with headphones, small musical instruments and/or reading material.
He first checked to see that it was indeed addressed to him and referred to his social security number. Then he carefully reread it as he scratched his head with the butt of the knife, a habit which drove his wife to distraction.
He blew a small quantity of dandruff off the letter, looked up at his wife and stated the obvious: "I'm fifty-seven years old!" Then he thought, re-reading the letter, Damn, I'm still going to be here when those white trash assholes visit!