"Well," he began, striding along the Company front, his hands clasped casually behind him. For once he didn't have his ball-point swagger stick. "It seems we have a small mutiny on our hands, troopers. Or at least a conspiracy to mutiny, troopers, which carries an equally harsh penalty. I would only guess, but I could probably put each and every one of you behind bars for the rest of your natural lives." He pivoted, paused and reflected. It wasn't a particularly hot day, but two large sweat stains were slowly creeping from under Lt. Dottlinger's arms like cancerous stigmata. He wasn't quite so frightening now. He was beginning to lose his edge, and was forced to begin to play himself. It had taken too long to write his speech. "But I'm not going to do that," he continued. "At least not right this minute. I'm sure most of you men didn't mean to cause this much trouble, or face such a stiff charge. Certainly your leaders lied to you about this – you're surprised I know there were leaders. Don't be, don't be. It was obvious. Yes, I'm sure there were leaders, perhaps even a single organizer." He paused, "And I would like to put him behind bars. I really want that. I want him!" He could barely control himself now.
"But I'll let that go. Let it go," he said, smiling suddenly, a forced, theatrical smile. "Yes, even that. Just to let you know I'm a fair and understanding officer. Yes, I'll forget this whole little affair ever took place, and I'll even lose the names of the men. Yes.
"But I want, I still want, and I will have the man whobrokethe… bottles." He took a deep breath before continuing. "I have an idea, mind you, just a hint of an idea, that he will be the same man who organized this childish little demonstration." Morning grunted with anger behind me. "This same whining disrespect for authority applies to property too and comes out of the same Godless overeducated under-spanked children.
"Until such time as the man who broke the four cases of Coke bottles, the ninety-six bottles, confesses, you are restricted to the Company and Operations Area, and to your quarters when not working, eating, or relieving yourself," he said, very businesslike now. A communal moan drifted up from the men. Morning grunted again, this time like a frustrated wart hog preparing to charge.
"At ease!" Tetrick growled.
"The day-trick will relieve the mid-trick after noon chow, and then make up the lost time by going to work at 0400 tomorrow morning." Nice move. The day-trick was going on Break, and my Trick would have to make up the time.
It wasn't good, but it wasn't disaster either. Then I heard another grunt from Morning, a furious exhalation, and he started to say, "Request permission…" But I overruled him.
"Request permission to speak to the Company Commander, sir," I sang out. Dottlinger wouldn't hold to his word about forgetting about the mutiny charges if he got hold of Morning. Why he hadn't figured it out by this time was a wonder to me.
"Certainly, Sgt. Krummel."
I said dreadful things to myself as I walked toward him, but I wasn't afraid of him anymore. I just didn't know what I was going to say.
"Could I speak to you in private, sir?" I asked after saluting. The sweat blackened areas of his shirt had grown, and his face was pale, but his eyes still glittered with fire enough for one more encounter. He told Tetrick to have the men stand easy. I followed him a few steps toward the barracks.
"Yes, Sgt. Krummel?"
"Sir. Sir, I know I'm off base, but the events of this morning seem to call for unusual actions."
"They are unusual events."
"Yes, sir."
"Well, sergeant, what did you want?" he inquired when I hadn't spoken for several seconds.
"Well, sir, it's about the restriction to the Company Area."
"What about it?"
"Well, sir, ah, I'm worried about the quality of the work at Operations. It is already low due to the tension, and this harsher restriction, sir, will probably lower it even further. The Filipino liaison officer has already threatened to go to the major if the work doesn't pick up." One lie. "And the men are terribly on edge, sir, already. Might even say they're horny as hell, sir." I giggled like a high school virgin. I was willing to be anything.
"I think the men can curb their physical appetites, sergeant. There's too much of that sort of thing happening in this Company anyway. And as for the quality of the work – send them to me if it doesn't pick up. This outfit is getting soft. It needs a little iron, and I intend to see that they get it."
"Yes, sir, I agree." Two lies. "But the men feel that if the man who broke the bottles…" (God, I thought, is this really about some broken bottles.) "… is in the Company, sir, then he has confessed and, sir, no matter how silly this logic sounds, or how much a play on words it is, that's the way the men feel, sir, and…"
"Well, if they think I'm going to be threatened…"
"Excuse me, sir, but they don't mean that, I'm sure." Three lies. "They're just desperate, sir, and I'm afraid, sir, that we might have a real mutiny on our hands. I saw one in Korea, sir, and it was bad." Four lies. "Everyone's record took a permanent blemish, sir."
He nodded. He knew who was threatening whom, and he didn't like it. He thought for a bit, then smiled slowly as if he knew something. "You're perfectly correct, sergeant, a real mutiny would be quite disastrous. But I don't see how I can go back on my word, do you?"
"Sir?"
"Well, everyone hasn't confessed."
"Sir?"
"You haven't confessed, Sgt. Krummel. You might have done it, for all I know." He smiled again, a smile which said, "I've got you Mr. Master's Degree."
"Sir, I'd like to make a statement. I'm the one, sir, who broke your Coke bottles in the Day Room." Five lies. "I'll make restitution to the Company Fund, sir, and plead guilty to any charges you would like to make in connection with the actual destruction of the bottles, sir."
"Were you drunk, sergeant?" Oh, he was loving this.
"No, sir."
"Then why did you do it?" His best fatherly tone.
"Momentary loss of perspective, sir. The machine took my coin and refused me a Coke, and since the machine was unbreakable, I avenged myself on the innocent bottles, sir."
"Sounds as if you might be mentally unbalanced, sergeant." How he would like me to plead that.
"No, not at all, sir. Like all good soldiers, sir, I have a quick temper and a strong sense of right which, under the direction of competent officers, can be a formidable weapon in combat, sir."
For a second he had forgotten whom he was playing with. "Well… Well, this isn't combat. Return to your Trick, and report to me after this formation."