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If Captain Brandon were relieved, the entire masquerade would go down the tubes.
"I was informed of your habitual frown," General Houseman continued quietly, "but you are currently turning red and smoking at the ears. And would you kindly avoid drilling holes through the wall with your stare?"
"Bulkhead, sir. On a ship it's a bulkhead."
"Whatever. Now to return to my original question, did you in fact violate direct and indirect orders by interfering in the tactical training of one of Lieutenant Colonel Youngman's subunits?"
"Partially, sir," Mike equivocated. He was thinking furiously.
"By helping Captains Brandon and Wright with ACS training?"
"Sir, I have not discussed training or Galactic technologies with any officer of the battalion."
"Would you care to explain that?" asked the general with a raised eyebrow.
"I have not spoken directly to any officer about training, sir. That was in fact my order. Nor have I entered the battalion area, nor have I entered any training area. I have, in fact, obeyed the letter of the order."
"I see." The general smiled. "I suppose there is a reason that the NCOs and enlisted in the companies are doing better, overall, than the officers?"
"Possibly, sir."
"Related to your influence?"
"Possibly, sir. Then again, to be honest, it might have something to do with the officers spending more time in the `club' than they do in suits."
"But you have influenced training," the general pointed out.
"Yes, sir."
"Despite the training schedule authorized by the Battalion S-3?"
"Yes, sir."
"Were you aware of the published training schedule?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. I'm glad you didn't turn a blind eye to your misdeeds." The general shook his head, looking suddenly harried.
"Son, I'm going to tell you this by way of an apology. The battalion is an attachment as opposed to one of `my' units, a III Corp unit that is. Therefore, it would be damned difficult for me to relieve Lieutenant Colonel Youngman, much as I would currently like to." He raised an eyebrow inviting comment, but Mike remained silent. He shook his head again and went on.
"It's a hell of a fix to take a unit into battle where I distrust the entire command team. So I've done what I can. Disregarding my long-standing rule against micromanaging my subordinate units, a rule the colonel has apparently never heard of, I gave Lieutenant Colonel Youngman a written order to initiate a vigorous training program in ACS combat. It states that, given his failure to date to train in vital areas, if the battalion fails to score eighty percent or better in ACS training norms by the date of our landing it will give me no choice but to relieve him for cause. He did not take it well at all. He seems to feel that since there is no way to prepare adequately because of `grossly inadequate preparation time' on Earth, the battalion should be reissued standard weaponry and deployed as regular airborne infantry."
"Good God," Mike whispered. The upcoming battle was sure to be a bloodbath for ACS, going in as lightly weaponed airborne infantry would be suicide.
The general smiled coldly again. "I ca
"Before some of this came up I sent a personal e-mail to Jack Horner. He said that your only problem was that you needed someone holding your leash. If there is a problem that requires a juggernaut all I should do is release the leash. That is why we are having this conversation.
"Now, I've given Colonel Youngman all the guidance I think he needs; I did not order him to use you as a training asset. So, if he doesn't contact you within a week, leave a message with my AID. I'll make an una
"As crystal, sir."
"If I feel it necessary, I will tell you that you have carte blanche. At that point I will have to relieve the colonel. I don't have a replacement for him I trust that has any ACS time. You do understand the implications of having to place a captain like, for example, Brandon, in command of a battalion."
"Yes, sir," Mike was feeling weak in the knees. The perso
"Thank you for coming, Lieutenant. We did not have this conversation. This compartment will self-destruct in thirty seconds. Get lost."
"Yes, sir. Where am I?"
21
Camp McCall, NC Sol III
0917 July 25th, 2002 AD
"Afternoon, Gu
With the new-old disciplinary techniques and the paucity of officers on the training base, the gaps that had been closing between officer and enlisted corps in the past decade were begi
Gu
Desertions were a problem that the United States military had not had to deal with in years. Pappas had heard rumor that it was even worse among the formed units. Soldiers there would desert, taking their weapons and equipment, and return home to defend their families. The families would in turn hide them and their stolen equipment from the authorities. What the long-term solution would be no one knew.
Thus, creating a solemn figurehead out of this amiable cretin became a necessity. Sometimes, as a miracle of that strange art called leadership, a simple pat on the back or stern look from the briefly-glimpsed company commander would keep a recruit from bolting. Once they graduated they became somebody else's responsibility.
"Gu
"Okay, sir. I'll tell the troops." Pappas waited patiently. Sometimes the commander would have to think for some time to remember what the next item was. This time he seemed to have made notes.
"Yes, well, further," the lieutenant continued, looking at his notes with a sniff, "we are being levied to provide cadre. You are, personally, being levied as a first sergeant to a former Airborne unit that is to be converted to an Armored Combat Suit unit.