Glen Tate - 299 Days - The 17th Irregulars

“What about women?”

“Depends,” Ted said. “If they have skills, they’re welcomed. I’ve seen some female soldiers in the IDF that would blow your mind.” Ted was referring to the Israeli Defense Forces, which had many women soldiers.

Ted was being polite when he said how great it was to have women fighters, however. There was nothing wrong with women. They usually fought well when they had something important to fight for, like their families. They had the physical strength to do what an irregular unit did, which was carry a rifle, but not much else. An irregular unit wasn’t a commando unit. They didn’t need to carry an eighty pound pack for three days without sleep. Less is demanded of an irregular unit, which is why they could be full of civilians. They were secondary troops, and some women were perfectly fine secondary troops.

But, truth be told, Ted really would rather not have any women in camp. It wasn’t that he didn’t like women, or that they didn’t have any skills, but they distracted men. Ted viewed women in camp like a river or minefield that needed to be crossed: something to be dealt with because it was just part of the landscape. Ted knew that men needed women and that men would fight the hardest for their women and children, but women just complicated everything.

Ted realized that the rest of the world might find that to be “sexist” but he didn’t give a crap. All he cared about was successfully executing the mission he was given and bringing back every one of his fighters alive. Everything else was a distant second on his list of concerns. Very distant.

Ted knew quite a bit about the problems women caused in a camp. He knew, from spending years of his life in dozens of camps full of fighters in several countries all across the world, the effect women could have on a guerilla unit.

“Women can be in camp, but they must have a very clear and much-needed job,” Ted said. “If they have town-running skills or medical skills, awesome. If our best engineer is a woman, she’s the chief engineer.”

“But,” Ted said, putting his finger up for emphasis, “if women don’t have a well-defined and needed job, they often turn into girlfriends and that causes all kinds of problems for discipline.”

Everyone looked at Wes. He flipped them off.

Sap added, “To be honest, if you have a choice between letting in a pretty woman and a plain woman with the same skills, pick the plain one. There will be less fighting over her.” The Team looked at him like he was crazy to not have the prettiest women possible around.

“Seriously,” Sap said. “I know what I’m talking about.” Ted nodded. They’d dealt with this before in Columbia when they were there “advising” that government on getting rid of the narco-terrorists.

“Speaking of women,” Grant said, “our young fighters here”—he pointed to the Team—“have girlfriends. Let me guess, they can’t bring them to the farm?”

“Correct,” Ted said. “The only women at the farm are ones who are working there. Ones with skills we need or family members of men we need, and even they have jobs. No girlfriends.”

Grant knew what his guys were thinking. Celibacy? Really? That might be a deal killer. They had signed up with the Patriots and devoted their lives to this dangerous cause. But no girlfriends? The deal might be off.

“I had assumed the Team would be in Pierce Point much of the time,” Grant said. “I think you said earlier that the Team will train at the farm during the day and come home to Pierce Point at night most nights. Right?”

“Pretty much,” Ted said, looking at Rich and Dan. “I’d like to see the Team spend about half their days at the farm and the other half on patrol in Pierce Point. Of course, the Team would be on call for Pierce Point even when they’re at the farm. If something does go down in Pierce Point, you guys zoom over here to handle it.”

Rich and Dan looked at Ted as if to say, “Damned right.”

“There will be some night training, especially toward the end,” Sap said. “For that, we’ll need you guys spending the night out at the farm.”

“Without girlfriends,” Pow said.

“Affirmative,” Ted said.

“How often will that be?” Bobby asked. He had fallen hard for his girlfriend, Sammie.

“Rarely for the next couple months,” Sap said. “Then once a week, then every other night. Towards the end, when it’s very close to deployment time, then every night.” Sap shrugged. “It’s the life of a soldier.”

Ted quickly added, “And you are soldiers now.”

That reminded the Team that they had taken an oath to something much more grand and important than getting laid. The Team realized they were being a little whiny about the girls. They were soldiers now. This wasn’t some big party at the yellow cabin. They were in a war and better get used to it.

“Understood,” Pow said. He looked at all the guys and said, “Understood?”

“Understood,” they all said. Ted noted that Pow was a leader. They followed his lead. He remembered Chip telling him that Pow was the tactical leader and Grant was the strategic leader. After seeing Pow and Grant in action that evening, Ted understood what Chip was talking about.

Grant decided to change the subject.

“How many walk-ons do you need?” He asked. “I mean, if you don’t need many then we can be very picky about their skills. If you need a lot, we’ll have lower standards.”

Ted smiled. “An excellent question,” he said. “The answer is that we can be picky at this point. We have a core of screened former military coming in the first wave. We will have some raw civilians that we’ve screened back at HQ coming after that. We have a few dozen already, so we have about half the hundred or so slots filled now. We’ll fill the other fifty or so slots in a few weeks with a combination of more raw civilians that come to us from HQ and some of these walk-ons from here. So, be very picky now and we’ll have a better idea of how many we need in a few weeks.”

“Will you be using any other Pierce Point people?” Dan asked.

“Well, a few of your guards,” Ted said looking at Rich and Dan, “but you guys get to limit the number of them. You guys talked to me last time I was out about which guards had skills, could be trusted, and could be spared. Only about eight, you told me. So about eight it will be.”

Pow got ready to ask the question the Team had been waiting to hear.

“What, specifically, will we be doing?” Pow asked, referring to the Team.

“We have two uses for you,” Ted said. He had been anticipating this question. “In the training phase, you will be trainers for the raw civilians. You will teach them basic firearms. My military guys will teach them the more intense stuff, like unit movements and explosives, although I suspect you guys will be able to teach this too.”

Explosives? The Team looked at each other. This was pretty serious.

“When it’s time to deploy,” Ted said, “we plan on using you as a special squad.”

Special squad? That got the Team’s attention. Commandos? Blowing up bridges? Covert missions? Hostage rescue? The young guys on the Team had visions of glory swirling in their heads. Unrealistic visions.

“You guys know your shit,” Ted said. He had rehearsed this part. He wanted to flatter the Team because he needed them to do a mission they would initially think was not a good use of their door-kicking and bad-guy-shooting skills.

Ted started the flattery, which was part legitimate praise and part salesmanship. “Hell, I trained you in the fundamentals, so I know you know your shit. And,” Ted looked over to Chip, “I understand you’ve been perfecting these skills out here lately.” Chip nodded, followed by Rich and Dan.