When Milo had driven the jeep out to a spot sufficiently far from the other humans for Jethro’s satisfaction, he switched off the engine and turned in the seat to face his old friend. “So? Talk.”
Colonel Stiles sighed. “Milo, I still can’t get you commissioned. I can’t understand any of the fucking mess and neither can regiment or division or even corps, for chrissakes. They all figure there’s a fuckup somewhere in the War Department records, and for want of anything more certain or concrete, I guess I just have to agree with them. I’m sorry. I did try.”
“So, what the fuck does it matter, Jethro? Am I demanding a fucking bar? Hell, I’m happy right where I am, in my present grade, doing the job I’m doing.” Milo was puzzled, and his voice reflected that.
Stiles just sighed again and shook his head sadly. “It matters, Milo, because of this: I’m leaving the battalion soon—division staff calls, and I’ve put them off for about as long as I can. The man who’s coming in to replace me will be bringing along his own adjutant, sergeant major and H&H first, which is, of course, his right and privilege and much better for all concerned, since he and they will no doubt work more smoothly together than he would with strangers.”
Milo frowned. “So what happens to John Saxon, Bill Hammond and me?”
“I was told I could bring up to three officers of company grade with me to my new posting and job, Milo. Bill’s commission is in the mills, and I’d hoped yours would be too, by now, but … Hell, Milo, are you sure, are you fucking positive you don’t know of any reason why somebody somewhere for some fucking reason would be disapproving all the damned commission requests I’ve sent in on you over the last few years? So I can’t take you along in your present grade. If you want to take a bust down to corporal, I might—might, mind you—be able to justify you as a driver, but it’s a mighty long chance and too fucking much risk, I think, for you to sacrifice your stripes for.”
“So, you’ve found a slot for me, Jethro. Right?” Milo asked tiredly.
Stiles nodded once. “I have. Did you hear about the cases of spinal meningitis in Charlie Gompany? Yeah, well, that left them minus two of their sergeants. You’ve met Captain Burke, of course.”
Milo nodded. “Yes, good officer. West Pointer, isn’t he?”
“Virginia Military Institute, Milo, pretty close to the same thing, and a whole fucking hell of a sight better than the frigging NGs and ROTCs and CMTCs we’re all so burdened with.
“Anyway, I’ve talked to Burke, and he would flatly love to have a noncom of your experience in Charlie Company. As you well know, you have the respect and admiration of every officer and man in this battalion. But his problem is this: his first sergeant has done and is doing as good a job as anyone could, and replacing him for no reason would make for a lot of fucking bad blood, and, of course, that’s the last fucking thing Burke wants with combat looming so close up ahead.”
“He wants me to take field first, then, Jethro? Okay, it’s a job I know, too,” agreed Milo readily.
“No, Milo.” Stiles spoke in a low and hesitant tone. “He’s got a good field first, too. He wants you to take over as platoon sergeant of his second platoon.” Then the officer added hastily and a bit more cheerfully, “But he swears, and you know it’s bound to be true, that if any fucking thing happens to the first or the field first, you’re the man for the slot.”
Milo shrugged. “Just so long as I go over in grade, don’t have to take a bust, Jethro, it’s okay with me—the diamond will come off very easily. It’ll be good to get back to doing some real field soldiering for a change, too. The way things were, it looked like I’d have sat out the whole fucking war behind a fucking desk.”
Although he sat slumped, Stiles looked and sounded much relieved. “Thank God you took it all so well, buddy. Look, I did all they’d let me do to sweeten the pill a little. You can take off your tech stripes completely and sew on a set of masters and you’ll go over to Charlie Company in that grade, too—I’ve already cleared it with Burke. And, Milo, believe me, I’m still going to keep pushing on a commission for” you. If any of us old Regulars deserves one, it’s you, my friend.”
Leo Burke, Captain, Infantry, USA, was a young man in his twenties. An even six feet in height, with dark-blond hair and snapping blue eyes, he was every bit as hard and fit as any man under his command. He spoke a cultivated English in the soft accents of his native Virginia; his handclasp was firm and his boyish smile infectious. He greeted the reporting Milo warmly, clearly desirous of real friendship with his new platoon sergeant.
“At ease, Sahgeant Moray. Sahgeant Coopuh, why don’t you have a man fetch us fo’ cups of cawfee back here. Oh, and see if you can run down Lootenant Hunicutter, too. Tell him ah’d like to see him on the double.”
When the first sergeant had departed, closing the door that led out to the busy orderly room, the young officer gestured to one of the side chairs, saying, “Please sit down, Sahgeant Moray.” When both were seated, with cigarettes offered and lit, the company commander said, “Sahgeant Moray, you just can’t know how happy and truly honuhed ah am to be able to add you to my company. You are what every offisuh and man in this whole battalion thinks about when they hear of professional sojuhs, Old Line Reguluhs. It’s sho good to know I’ll have a man like you to lean on in days ahead if the going gets as rough as it may get. Welcome to man comp’ny, sahgeant.
“Lootenant Terence Hunicutter is the platoon leaduh of second platoon, and if evuh a second lootenant needed a sahgeant like you, it’s Terry. He means well, sahgeant, he’s conscientious, hardworking, and he truly does feel fo’ the men in second platoon. But he’s one of the Civilian Military Training Corps offisuhs and he just doesn’t know a whole lot of things he should know and needs to know if he’s going to keep them and him alive and well when we get into combat. Ah’d considuh it a personal favuh if you’d take Hunicutter unduh your wing, sahgeant, and do all you can to help him become the kind of offisuh ah think and know he can be.
“In strict confidence, Moray, if ah had my druthuhs, ah’d have you as platoon leaduh and Terry as the sahgeant, but ah don’t, and ah guess we just will have to play this hand we were dealt. And, also, like I told Colonel Stiles, if anything should happen to Sahgeant Coopuh, ah mean to have you out in that orderly room as mah first so fast it’ll make your head spin. You’re wasted as a mere platoon sahgeant and ah know it, but ah still am glad to have you even as that.
“Oh, and by the way, sahgeant, Colonel Stiles told me you are a very accomplished riduh. Well, I have some distunt relatives who live near a town called Somerton, inland a ways from here. They keep a remahkable stable. If we can find time, ah’d like to take you up to meet them and we could then get in a little riding, maybe. It would be a pure favuh to them and to the po’ horses, too. One of their sons is a pris’nuh of the Nazis, taken in Greece, and the othuh has not been heard of or from since the fall of Singapore to the Japs. Their mothuh is terribly arthritic and their fathuh can’t ride too often because of the wounds he suffuhed in France in 1940.”
But the outing with Captain Burke was never to be, for the pace of the training increased to frenetic. Equipment and clothing and weapons were inspected and reinspected time after time, and all defective or badly worn or seriously damaged items were replaced with new ones. And as the days of May trickled into June, no officer or man had to be told that the time of sudden death would very soon be upon them all.
Milo found Lieutenant Terence McS. Hunicutter to be much like a puppy, painfully eager to please anyone and everyone without really knowing how. He lacked any real shred of leadership ability, and the four squad leaders had been covertly running the platoon for want of any better arrangement, all knowing that true command was simply beyond the young officer’s capabilities. The four men gladly, relievedly turned the platoon over to Milo, asking only that he “take it easy” with Hunicutter, for they all liked the boy.