“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?”
“Oorah, sir,” Faith said, smiling slightly.
“You’re afraid you’re not going to live up to the standards of a Marine officer,” Hamilton said. “You think the local Marines think you’re just a mascot or a joke. Because your daddy gave you the job, which is true, and that you can’t really do it, which is not true. Do you not trust them?”
“I…” Faith said, her face working. “I don’t know how to answer the question, sir.”
“In your own time, as many oorahs as it takes,” Hamilton said.
“Then, yeah, sir,” Faith said. “I…Sir, sometimes I get parade rest and at ease mixed up. I don’t know how to march and I don’t know marching commands, sir. Not really solid, sir. I’ve mixed that stuff up around the Gitmo Marines, and I know they’re laughing at me. What kind of a Marine doesn’t know how to march? The kind that’s never been to Parris Island or Marine Officer Basic Course. They think I’m not a real Marine, sir, and maybe I’m not. It’s not that I don’t trust them, sir, sort of. It’s that they don’t trust me. They think I’m a joke, sir. I know they do. And…that’s a real problem, sir.”
“If it were true, and it may be, it would be a problem,” Hamilton said. “To an extent. But…let’s start with why it’s not, okay?”
“Okay,” Faith said tightly. “Yes, sir.”
“Did you get into a lot of military jokes…pre-Plague?” Hamilton asked.
“Not really, sir,” Faith said. “I was on some boards and had some friends who were military but…not a lot.”
“There’s a list, been around a long time,” Hamilton said. “It’s a list of ‘Things you don’t want to hear an officer say.’ Basically, when they say certain phrases, bad things tend to happen. Got it?”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said. “Is it second lieutenants saying ‘Okay?’”
“No,” Hamilton said with a chuckle. “But a few examples. If you ever hear a first lieutenant say ‘I have an idea,’ it’s best to run.”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said, smiling.
“A captain saying ‘I’ve been thinking…’ same thing,” Hamilton said.
“Yes, sir.”
“In the case of second lieutenants, the phrase you should generally fear is ‘In my experience,’” Hamilton said, smiling.
“But…” Faith said, holding up a finger.
“But that’s a very important point, Lieutenant,” Hamilton said. “Nobody in the military, not the Air Force or the Army or the Marines or Navy, where it’s ‘ensign,’ nobody trusts a second lieutenant.”
“But…sir…” Faith said worriedly.
“Yes, there is a but,” Hamilton said. “And we’ll discuss that in a moment. This comes first, Lieutenant. You don’t have to be panicked by the fact that your NCOs, some of them, do not fully trust you. That is normal and standard, Faith. It is. You Are A Second Lieutenant. The fact that you’re also thirteen, unable to drive, have a tracing case of acne and have never seen Parris Island are simple cherries on the cake. The jokes about second lieutenants are innumerable and as old as the military. Jokes about junior officers go back to the earliest armies. You can find them in cuneiform and scribbled on the walls of Roman toilets. ‘Tribune Marcus Aurelius could not find Gaul if he was in Alesia.’ Which was a city in Gaul, by the way. Normal standard and customary. It is not directed at one Faith Marie Smith particularly. It’s a function of that gold bar you bear, often referred to as the ‘baby shit bar’ in the Army for a reason. So chill out. It’s not about you. Okay?”
“O…kay?” Faith said. “But, sir…”
“Faith, there are no ‘buts’ on the chill out part,” Hamilton said. “That’s a requirement. Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. You are not trying to clear a super-liner with no help. The world does not rest on your shoulders. There are others to help, Faith. You’re among friends. Okay?”