“And again I’ll take it under consideration,” Hamilton said. “It’s not a bad report. I’m going to tweak some of the numbers based on gut, red-line it and compile it with the Navy side for requisitioning. As I said, I agree with your assessment of the best objectives. Next: the captain wishes us to be able to arm the residents of the islands against the potential of, well, pirates as well as any remaining infected.”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said.
“There are apparently remaining weapons on the Iwo but it’s not worth our time going back to get them,” Hamilton said. “Especially since there’s a source closer to hand, if a bit…unpleasant. So we’re going to scavenge.”
“The weapons of the…fallen on the base, sir?” Faith said.
“Yes,” Hamilton said. “Wellington once said the only thing that could be worse than a battle won must be a battle lost. The truth, I think, is the opposite. The losers don’t see the results whereas we do. I’m not sure it’s the best conditions for you to get to know your new platoon, short as it is. But that is your next mission. Round up your platoon and go scavenge all the weapons and magazines you can find on the base.”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said.
“As you’re doing so, see which are still functional, clean them up and when we clear an island issue them to what seem to be trustworthy locals,” Hamilton said. “Any questions?”
“Just one, sir,” Faith said. “It’s…um…fourteen hundred. Should we start today, continue at night or start in the morning, sir?”
“Start this afternoon, at the very least figuring out how,” Hamilton said. “Staff Sergeant Barnard is familiar with the base and it’s always a good idea to listen to input from your NCOs. But I’d like you to at least get started today. Main op tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said.
“Very well, Lieutenant,” Hamilton said. “Dismissed.”
He waited until the door had closed to chuckle.
“‘Zombies don’t duck,’” Hamilton said. “Write that on your damn hand, Craig.”
“’Tention on deck!” Smitty boomed as Faith walked into the squad bay. The NCOs were in the bay checking the gear, new and old.
“Whoa, whoa,” Faith said, somewhat nervously, waving both hands. “At ease and all that. Staff Sergeant…Barnard?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Cindy said, still standing at parade rest.
“Rest, Staff Sergeant,” Faith said, sticking out her hand. “Lieutenant Smith.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Barnard said, shaking her hand. “Good afternoon, ma’am.”
“We caught a mission,” Faith said. “We need to…chat about how we’re going to detail it out.”
“Roger, ma’am,” Barnard said.
“Let’s talk about it in my broom closet,” Faith said, waving at the hatch. “Staff Sergeant Decker.”
“Ma’am,” the staff sergeant boomed. He was still at rigid parade rest.
“You’re in charge while we’re gone,” Faith said. “You will recall our discussion about the importance of reestablishing flexibility.”
“Aye, aye, ma’am,” Decker boomed.
“Oorah, Staff Sergeant,” Faith said, gesturing at the hatch. “Staff Sergeant Barnard.”
“I looked at a regular TOE,” Faith said as they walked down the corridor. “We’ve got too many NCOs, don’t we?”
“By TOE, ma’am,” Barnard said. “But I don’t think there’s such a thing as too many NCOs.”
“Not about the mission—but what would you think about trying to set up a mini boot camp?” Faith said. “We need more Marines and unless we find another LHA or take one of the big bases, I’m not sure we’re going to find many more.”
“I think we’re short on hands to do that, ma’am,” Barnard said. “And I think it would be up to Colonel Hamilton and the gunnery sergeant.”
“Agreed,” Faith said, opening the door of her office. “I’m just thinking about the fact that we’ve got three staff sergeants and less than a platoon’s worth of grunts. Besides, I think Decker would be better off as a drill instructor than on active ops.”
Barnard boggled for just a moment at the thought of Decker as a drill instructor.
“With due respect, ma’am,” Barnard said. “I think drills need a bit more flexibility.”
“They need less than is required in field ops,” Faith said, sitting down. “Grab a chair, please, Staff Sergeant. That’s the point. It would be nice if we had some drills with more flexibility but the area where you need the least would seem to be drills. Or maybe just that. That Monty Python sketch, sergeant major marching up and down the square. Decker and Condrey, that’s the only thing they really can do, drills. If it’s not right in a manual they’d read before being castaways, they’re pretty much stuck. When we had a little down time, I’ve had Decker drilling me on marching and commands. He’s as perfect as you can find on all that stuff. Figuring out how to get wheels, how to find power and ammo and food in the ruins, how to interact with the survivors, not so much. And have you ever inspected their gear? I mean, that’s what the basic portion really is, drilling, how to be a Marine and getting your gear shipshape. That Decker and Condrey can teach. And Christ knows we need more Marines.”
“That…does makes some sense, ma’am,” Barnard said.
“If we ever turn up a former Marine who’s too old to run with the young pups, maybe,” Faith said. “Team him up with those two. Let them run the recruits around and drill the hell out of them, have the old guy to keep them from totally flipping out on the recruits. Which is a thought for another time. We’ve actually got two missions, one coming up and one that’s a ‘now’ thing. You’ve probably heard we’re doing a float.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Barnard said. “Medical supplies.”
“We don’t know where to get them,” Faith said. “There’s no one place that we know there’s a big stockpile of what we need. The critical item is a gel to make the vaccine. But that’s generally where there are other medical supplies. So we’re going to go on a Caribbean cruise. You know, travel to exotic foreign lands, meet interesting zombies and kill them?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Barnard said.
“This time the plan is to do a rough clear on the towns and even islands we hit and probably leave the inhabitants to their own devices,” Faith said. “We did something similar in the Canaries but it was mostly the Navy doing it. Thing is, there are still going to be infected roaming around even after we blast through. So the locals need some guns since they’re generally in short supply on those islands. We’ve still got spares but it makes more sense to clear up the ones here on base. Which is our first mission. We’re supposed to collect up all the weapons ammo and mags of the ‘fallen,’ check ’em out, decide which are still useable and which aren’t, clean ’em up and rack ’em for issue to local ‘militias’ after we’ve cleared the islands.”
“Roger, ma’am,” Barnard said tightly.
“Yeah, great detail,” Faith said. “But somebody’s gotta do it. Thinking about it, I’d put Staff Sergeant Decker and PFC Condrey on inspecting and cleaning detail. That way they’re bound to be perfect.”
“Roger, ma’am,” Barnard said.
“About the only thing I know about being a Marine and being an officer is what I’ve picked up in books and what I’ve learned in the last few months,” Faith said. “I wasn’t one of those kids who grew up wanting to be a Marine and watching Sands of Iwo Jima or something. The way I ran things with Staff Sergeant Januscheitis was something I got in a book. We get missions. We get missions all the freaking time. All I really need is the platoon to be ready to perform the missions. All their gear straight, able to shoot without hitting each other, able to handle the commo and find their way around. We’ve got no time for training and nobody really knows each other now. But this job ain’t actually all that hard. Like I told the colonel, zombies don’t duck. But all that’s on you. Okay?”