John Ringo: Claws That Catch

“The diet details are too gross to convey, sir,” Weaver said. “But I’m glad to report that all of her dogs are in good health. Her mom’s not doing so good, though. Care for the details?”

“No, but have the clerk write me a letter to the effect for my signature,” the CO said. “It never hurts to keep on Clerk Click’s good side. Maybe a box of chocolates.”

“Seems like an awful lot to go through for a thousand rolls of space tape, though.”

“Based on your last mission report, space tape is what keeps the Blade functioning,” Prael pointed out. “And on the matter, sort of, of your last mission, you had an interesting phone call while you were gone.”

“I cannot wait to hear what you define as interesting, sir,” Bill replied.

“A call from Robin Zenikki,” Prael said, in a much darker tone. “You recognize the name.”

“ Washington Times ,” Bill replied. “I haven’t talked to him in years, not since shortly after the Dreen War. And never on secure subjects, even to confirm or deny. It was always under orders to detail things that had already been authorized for disclosure. And all the conversations were prior to becoming an officer.”

“Well, he apparently wants to talk to you,” the CO said. “He said he’d call back but he also left a number. I’m hereby authorizing you and requiring you to contact him and see what he has to say. Don’t let anything go in the opposite direction, understood?”

“Clear, sir,” Bill replied. “I’ve done this before, sir.”

“I suppose there’s that,” Prael admitted. “Call him. I want to know what he knows or suspects. But later this afternoon. We’re headed to HQ.”

“For?”

“Mission brief,” the CO replied. “Finally.”

“That was a quick in-process,” Lieutenant Ross said.

Roger Ross was the executive officer of Bravo Company. XO is one of the more thankless positions in the military. The XO ensures that the unit is functioning, simple as that. It’s the XO’s job to make sure that the vehicles and other systems are working, that training schedules meet the myriad and often baroque requirements of higher, that the company has sufficient logistics to function, be that in garrison or in the field, that the unit is fed and resupplied in battle and that, in general, the unit works as a well-oiled machine. It’s petty, detail work, often frustrating, generally without great reward and often with huge penalties for failure. But XO is also a necessary step at each level on the way to command duties. Without being in the position, it’s impossible to truly understand the way that a unit functions, where the weak points are, what the probable problems are that will arise and how to fix them.

“Slow day, sir,” Eric replied.

It was nearly the end of duty hours and Eric had been in-processing all day, a procedure that could have been done in a maximum of two hours. He’d gone to the medics and ensured that his shots were up-to-date, got a stamp. Went to payroll and ensured that his pay records were up-to-date, got a stamp. Legal and his will, got a stamp. Field equipment, got a stamp. At each of the stops, incredibly bored clerks, most of whom had little or nothing to do, spent about four times the necessary time to do each job.

“Call me Rog,” the XO said. He was newer to the unit than Eric in some ways. The Marines on-board the Blade during the battle worked in damage control and most of them had died in those positions including the then-XO, Lieutenant Kolb. “Grab a chair. But now that you’re back, I don’t really have anything for you, yet. You still need to see the CO and get his in-process speech and he’s on his way back from a meeting with General Zanuck.

“I can tell you about your duties,” Lieutenant Ross continued, grinning evilly. “Now that you are here, and assuredly the most junior lieutenant seeing as the other two platoon leaders are first lieutenants, you get to take over the Dog Duties.”

“Here it comes,” Eric said, sitting down.

“Here are the unit VD reports,” Rog said, sliding over a thick file folder. “Not much in the way of positives, but you’re also required to do the mandatory training classes on prophylaxis and the paperwork showing that the classes have been successfully completed by all junior enlisted members of the company. Officers and senior NCOs are not required to attend but are encouraged.”

“Yeah, like Top’s going to take a VD course,” Eric said, picking up the file.

“I would find it unlikely,” Ross said, grinning. “Note that most of this stuff is database based. In addition to my other duties, I’ll need to familiarize you with the company management system. I could wish you’d spent time as an operations sergeant or even a company clerk; that would have sped the transition to your new lofty status. As it is, I’ll just hope that you learn quickly.”

“I’m generally a quick study, sir,” Eric replied.

“One can only hope,” the XO said, sliding over another file. “Unit morale and welfare officer. You are in charge of the MWR inventory and will need to do a full inventory of same for turnover. You are also responsible for a monthly report on MWR issues with the company, including an itemization of MWR inventory usage and explanation of non-usage if it falls below a certain time matrix. Sports, especially, are highly encouraged by the Marine Corps so if the Marines of Bravo Company don’t use their baseball bats and footballs, the commandant wants to know why!”

“Gung-ho, sir,” Eric replied. “I’ll try to make sure we play with the commandant’s balls.”

“Motorcycle defensive driving officer,” the XO continued, sliding over another file. “There are nine motorcyclists in the company. You are to ensure that each is up-to-date at all times in their insurance and training on motorcycle defensive driving courses. Two of them haven’t attended MDDC, yet, so you’re going to have to find them a slot in the next two weeks.”

“Sir, we’re leaving on a mission in less than two weeks,” Berg pointed out.

“That’s what makes your new job so fun ,” Ross replied, coldheartedly. “Not to mention mine. You will fill out the appropriate forms to point out that, due to exigencies of service, they were unable to fulfill their mandatory training and request an extension upon return and sign swearing and affirming on your soul as an officer that it’s all true so help you God really. I will then review them, require you to fix any necessary corrections and the CO will then countersign them.”

“At the rate this company loses people, most of them aren’t going to,” Eric said, chuckling. “Complete the course at a later date that is. I suppose there’s another form we have to submit explaining that they’re not in violation, they’re dead?”

“Normally, if a young lieutenant said something like that I’d jump their ass,” the XO replied. “In your case, given that you were around for most of those losses, I’ll let it slide. But you might want to avoid saying that sort of thing around the troops.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, sir,” Eric said. “Sorry.”

“It is, however, true,” Ross admitted, sighing. “I had no grapping clue the casualty rate of this unit when I volunteered. As XO no less. Where was I? Ah! Unit inventory officer…”

“HD 242896.”

The briefing officer was a Navy commander, an old one. The ribbons on his uniform indicated that he had never been anywhere or done anything that involved hearing shots fired in anger. On the other hand, he had several ribbons that indicated people thought he walked on water, up to and including two Legions of Merit. So either he was an A Number One kiss-butt or he was one of the boffins services kept around for their intellectual prowess rather than warrior spirit.