“This is new. Never had to do this before,” Slater thought.
Looking at the sergeant’s uniform, he could see the man hadn’t deployed overseas. No combat action patch. Some very unflattering words came to mind as he thought about this green inexperienced soldier lording over him.
The soldier nodded when he received the confirmation that Slater’s identity had been verified. “Sorry for the delay, Sergeant. There have been a few sabotage incidents on base, so security has increased. You’re now registered as a member of the base and this command. If you take a seat over there, I’ll let Captain Wilkes know you’re here and he’ll let you know what your duties will be.”
A few minutes went by, and then a captain walked into the room and spoke briefly with the orderly, who pointed at Slater. The captain walked toward him. “Sergeant Slater, correct?” he asked, a bit of heat in his voice. As the captain looked him over, his lip snarled in disdain.
Standing as the captain approached, Ian replied, “Yes, Sir. I’m Sergeant Slater.”
Seeing the officer’s ribbon rack, Slater thought, “Great, another green newbie who’s never seen combat — this time an officer.” He hadn’t deployed overseas to Afghanistan, Europe or Asia, and here he was, already busting his chops.
“You’re out of uniform, Sergeant,” Captain Wilkes barked. “When you report to a unit, you do so in uniform. In this unit, everyone reports to duty in their service uniforms unless you’re assigned to be a drill sergeant. Is that understood?” He scowled.
“Yes, Sir. I’ll make sure I have the proper uniforms,” Slater said as he now stood properly at attention.
“Nothing in my orders said anything about being a drill sergeant — they’d better not make me a drill sergeant,” he thought in horror.
“Where did you transfer in from?” Wilkes asked in a more congenial manner as he continued to size him up.
“I just arrived yesterday from Japan,” Slater replied.
Captain Wilkes looked over the orders the orderly had just handed him. “Hmm… it says you were just promoted to E-7 four months ago, but you haven’t been to any of the Senior Leader Courses yet. It says I’m supposed to run you through several of the professional development courses before you’re given a more active assignment.” Pausing for a second, Wilkes seemed to change his demeanor a bit when he saw the list of decorations Slater had accumulated up to this point.
“Let’s see here… two Purple Hearts, two Bronze Stars with V device, one Silver Star with V device, and the Prisoner of War medal. OK, Sergeant, clearly you’ve been around the block and seen a lot of action, so I’ll cut the crap and just give you the skinny. Follow me back to my office, and we’ll talk,” he said, and he motioned for Slater to follow him.
As Sergeant Slater walked into Captain Wilkes’ office, he nearly chuckled at all of the motivational pictures and posters plastered on the man’s wall. On his desk, he saw a handful of challenge coins and other memorabilia. He also saw a picture of a woman and two little children in a frame, most likely his family.
Captain Wilkes sat down in his leather chair. “Look, we’re a basic combat training battalion for the 2nd ID,” he explained. “Our job is to churn out soldiers ready for combat. The 189th Infantry Brigade, which you now find yourself a part of, is a training brigade. Our battalion, the 2/357 infantry, is tasked with graduating 320 new soldiers a week. The other three battalions in the brigade are doing the same, which means we churn out a new battalion of soldiers every week for the war.”
Slater saw his moment to ask a question when Wilkes paused to take a sip of his coffee. “Have they doubled the size of the battalions? That’s a lot of new recruits to graduate each week.”
Wilkes smiled as he placed his coffee mug down. “Yes, they doubled the size of each of the new battalions. You’ve been at the front, you know better than I do. They’re short on officers and sergeants, so they’re doubling the strength of the units while they expand the officer and noncommissioned officer corps.”
Sensing that there was a question Wilkes hadn’t asked, Slater responded, “When the war started, I was an E-5 sergeant. Within ten days, half the officers and sergeants had been killed in combat. I was promoted directly to E-7 and given command of a platoon, until my unit was eventually wiped out at the Yalu line. I can attest to the casualties among the sergeants and officers. It’s as bad as you’ve heard, Sir.”
Wilkes looked almost appalled at what Ian had just said. Not a lot of combat soldiers had returned from Korea yet, so the opportunities to hear firsthand what was going on over there were very limited.
“All right,” Captain Wilkes said, “here’s what I’m going to do with you. I’m going to give you ten days permissive TDY to get yourself sorted, find an apartment, and get outfitted with new uniforms. For the time being, I’m going to have you work with the drill sergeants on identifying potential NCOs among the recruits. As you can imagine, in addition to graduating hundreds of recruits, we also have to identify eight soldiers from each company who have the leadership skills needed to be an effective sergeant. If we find a recruit who has more than two years of college, we’re supposed to assess them and determine if they could potentially be an officer or NCO and add them to the list as well. When these recruits graduate training, they’re going to be pulled aside and given three weeks of training as an NCO and then promoted to E-5. That is where you come into the picture.”
“Sir?” Slater asked.
“While you do not have a lot of time in grade and experience as a sergeant, you’ve been one for eight months, and more importantly, you’ve survived multiple battles. You’ll be tasked with helping the drill sergeants identify these individuals, and then you’ll work with two other senior NCOs to train and groom these recruits to become sergeants.”
Holding a hand up to object, Slater protested, “Sir, with all due respect, I’m not qualified to do this job. I barely even know how to be a sergeant, Sir. I’ve spent nearly all of my time as a sergeant in combat, not learning the ropes of what makes a good NCO.”
Wilkes nodded as he listened to Ian’s objections. “I understand, Slater, but here’s the deal. You’ve seen the elephant. You’ve been to battle and survived — shoot, you’ve got the medals to prove it. You don’t need to teach these guys the ins and outs of being an NCO. You need to teach these guys how to keep their soldiers alive — how to fight as a team and to listen to their officers and senior NCOs. For that, I think you’re eminently qualified.”
Wilkes sighed. “Look, I have a company to run. I need you to step up and lead. You aren’t being placed back into a line unit, so you need to impart your knowledge and experience to those who are going to the front. Understood?” It was more of a rhetorical question. Slater had been given his orders and, like them or hate them, he’d have to execute them.
“Yes, I understand, Sir,” Slater responded. “I’ll see you again in two weeks, this time in the proper uniform.”
“Now, to go find a bar and a girl who’s up for some fun. Then I’ll work on getting myself situated… priorities,” he thought as the meeting concluded.
Hunter Becomes the Hunted
Captain Michael Mohl smiled as he looked at the sonar display. His ship, the USS North Dakota, had been stalking the Haikou, a Lanzhou-class Chinese destroyer, for the past two days. They had seen the destroyer escorting a convoy of roughly twenty-six cargo ships, and they had also spotted four other Jiangkai-class antisubmarine warfare frigates in the pack.