John Ringo - Islands of Rage and Hope

“Yes, ma’am,” Staff Sergeant Barnard said.

“Anything you want to bring up?” Faith said.

“No, ma’am,” Staff Sergeant Barnard said. “Back to the piers by thirteen hundred. Evening ops will be prep for float. Is that all, ma’am?”

“Yep,” Faith said. “I guess I’ll see you back at the boat.”

That evening Staff Sergeant Barnard stopped by the colonel’s office.

“Busy as we are, sir,” Barnard said uncomfortably, “moment of your time?”

“Of course, Cindy,” Hamilton said, waving her in. “As long as it’s not a long moment. Issues?”

“I need some counseling on something, sir,” Barnard said, closing the hatch. “It has to do with Lieutenant Smith…”

“Booyah!” Faith said as the Grace Tan cleared the harbor mouth.

She was sooo glad to be back to doing what she knew: Killing zombies. The whole prep thing had been nothing but a nightmare of not knowing what to do and knowing that she was getting it all wrong. This she knew.

“Happy, ma’am?” Corporal Douglas said, grinning.

They were standing by the side rail watching the land slide by since at the moment there was nothing else to do. Everything was stowed and locked down and the preoperations meeting wasn’t for another two hours.

“I can’t believe I was getting sick of the land,” Faith replied, a tad dishonestly.

“Well, we’re going to be on land soon enough, ma’am,” Douglas said.

“It’s different, Derk,” Faith said. “Another zombie killing smash-and-grab. That’s not the same as being stuck on land, or for that matter on the Bo , doing paperwork.”

“Lieutenant Smith to the Colonel’s office,” the tannoy boomed. “ Lieutenant Smith to the Colonel’s office.”

Faith started to open her mouth to say something like “ What now?” and then checked it.

“Gotta go, Derk,” Faith said.

“Yes, ma’am,” Douglas said, smiling. “Your master’s voice.”

“Morning, Faith,” Hamilton said, waving to a chair. “Glad to be headed out?”

“Yes, sir,” Faith said, sitting down. She quirked an eyebrow at Staff Sergeant Barnard who didn’t respond at all. Uh, oh.

“Faith,” Hamilton said. “Staff Sergeant Barnard brought something up with me that I hadn’t really noticed…for various reasons. A habit that you’ve developed. It’s both a minor issue and a major issue, which will make sense in a moment. The habit is a minor issue that’s easily corrected. The reason for the habit is what’s the major issue and we’ll try to resolve that as well. First things first. This is a counseling session. There are various types in the Marines, verbal, written, etc. They’re generally thought of as punitive. In this case, it’s a counseling session in the same way as a psychological counseling session. Despite my promise not to psychoanalyze you, we’re going to delve into some of that at a certain point. However, this is not proscriptive. It is not punitive. We’ve got an issue and we’re going to resolve it. Do you understand?”

“Not really, sir,” Faith said, trying not to look at Barnard. She felt as if she’d been stabbed in the kidneys. “I’m not sure what the problem is, sir.”

“Staff Sergeant?”

“Ma’am,” Barnard said. “With due respect, are you aware that you end practically every sentence with a question?”

“No?” Faith said after a moment’s thought. “I do?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Barnard said. “You just did. And, no offense intended, but it makes you sound…” She paused and looked at the colonel.

“What the staff sergeant is trying not to say is that a Marine officer should appear and sound confident,” Hamilton said. “After the issue was brought up I discussed it with Captain Wilkes and Lieutenant Volpe, both of whom expressed surprise at the question. They had never noticed it. They found you exceptionally confident, especially given your age and lack of experience. Which leads me to believe that the lack of confidence, if that is what this manifests, is recent. Any thoughts?”

“No, sir,” Faith said.

“Staff Sergeant,” Hamilton said, nodding. “You’ve expressed your issues, and quite tactfully I might add. I’ll take it from here.”

“Yes, sir,” Barnard said, getting up and leaving.

“She really was tactful,” Hamilton said, leaning back and steepling his fingers. “She is also, understandably, worried.”

“Yes, sir,” Faith said.

“That was a ‘yes, sir’ to fill in the pause, wasn’t it?” Hamilton asked.

Faith thought about it for a moment.

“Yes, sir.”

“Faith, you have two of the absolute requirements for being a Marine officer,” Hamilton said, grinning. “You have a font of physical courage and enormous stubborness. Let’s try to see if we can get past the latter, shall we? What’s your problem with Staff Sergeant Barnard?”

“I don’t have a problem, sir,” Faith said.

“Not even since she dropped the dime on you?” Hamilton asked. “Not feeling stabbed in the back?”

“Sir…” Faith said, frowning. “I’m not sure if it was what a staff sergeant is supposed to do. I think Jan would have just pulled me aside and said ‘Hey, LT, you’re saying everything with a question.’ I don’t think he would have gone running to…” She paused and shrugged.

“His buddy the colonel?” Colonel Hamilton said mildly.

“I didn’t say that, sir,” Faith said.

“But it was what you were thinking,” Hamilton said. “You know I frequently call her ‘Cindy.’ Not, by the way, the way that most Marine colonels referred to their subordinates. Perhaps I’ve spent too much time on joint ops. Or perhaps it’s, you know, being a research psychologist at heart. But let’s discuss the issue that Staff Sergeant Barnard brought up. Ending a sentence that is supposed to be declarative with a querying tone indicates lack of confidence. This is both well understood psychology and something that is consciously or unconsciously noted by those around you. Especially political enemies and subordinates. Again, there is evidence to suggest that that lack of confidence is recent. And it is an issue for the upcoming operations. Your Marines have to trust your orders. They will follow them anyway, the staff sergeant will ensure that. But they should trust them especially since you are, in fact, the expert in what we’re going to be doing. So let’s start with the ‘okay’ thing since there is a simple remedy.”

“Yes, sir,” Faith said.

“That would be ‘Oh, Colonel, great and wise leader, what is the remedy?’” Hamilton said.

Faith frowned for a moment.

“‘Oh, Colonel, great and…’”

She frowned again.

“Great and wise leader,” Hamilton said, smiling. “But that’s good enough. Faith, say ‘Oorah.’”

“Oorah?” Faith said.

“Now without the querying tone,” Hamilton said.

“Oorah, sir,” Faith said.

“Now, when you are speaking from now on, when you’re not quite sure where to go next and want to say ‘Um’ or ‘Okay,’ insert ‘Oorah,’” Hamilton said mildly. “It can be taken to extremes. I knew a Ranger officer who was horrible at public speaking and unfortunately in a position where he had to give multiple briefings who would give briefings which were seventy-five percent ‘hoowah?’ It got to where you wanted to strangle him. For that matter, my first first sergeant inserted the word ‘fuck’ when he didn’t know what to say. As an officer and a lady I’m sure we both prefer if you said ‘Oorah’ instead, oorah?”