“Heh,” Faith said, grinning slightly.
“Back to the hallowed promotion ladder,” Hamilton said. “I agree with your assessment that you’d make a horrible captain. Now. You’re going to be a very good one. Some day. But absent strenuous objections, as long as I’m your commander, I’m going to keep you at your current rank for a looong time. You understand why?”
“I’m thirteen, sir?” Faith said, shrugging. “It really doesn’t bother me, sir.”
“That’s part of it,” Hamilton said. “Big part. But more than that, it will give you time. Time to get that confidence not just fake it. Time to do the jobs over and over again. Including, yes, paperwork. Probably some staff time. Which is, by the way, nothing but paper pushing.”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said unhappily.
“Don’t look so grumpy,” Hamilton said. “If you do anything enough you get better at it. I never expect you to be a perfect glittering staffer. Or, maybe you will be. But if you do nothing but for a year or so you will get better.”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said.
“So to recap,” Hamilton said. “Nobody trusts a thirteen-year-old girl. Nobody trusts a second lieutenant. So none of it is personal. It’s just cognitive dissonance. And when you hit the beach a bunch of it will just go away. The Marines who have worked with you before trust you and that will be infectious. Especially since you’re not really at home unless you’re killing infected, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said.
“In the meantime, we’re going to teach you how to fake it until you make it,” Hamilton said. “You’ve had the class from the gunnery sergeant in command voice. Correct?”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said.
“Why don’t you use it?” Hamilton said. “Skip the question. From now on, use it. Always.”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said.
“You must look up the definition of ‘always’ some time, Lieutenant,” Hamilton said. “When I say always, I mean All The Time, Lieutenant! When you’re talking to the staff sergeant! When you order dinner! When you’re talking to your mother! Every single word that comes out of your mouth from now until I tell you you can quit will be command voice! Do you understand, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said. “I mean, Yes! Sir!”
“There you go,” Hamilton said. “Now you sound like a Marine lieutenant! Oorah?”
“Oorah, sir,” Faith said.
“That was laid-back oorah,” Hamilton said. “I sort of like laid-back oorah, but Lieutenant Faith Smith is not permitted laid-back oorah. Try it again, oorah.”
“Oo-Rah!” Faith barked.
“If you’re not sure what to say, what do you say, Lieutenant?” Hamilton said.
“Oorah, sir!” Faith barked.
“You’re still unconfident about marching and drill commands,” Hamilton said. “You sort of like Staff Sergeant Decker, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Faith said, then frowned. “Sorry. Yes, sir!”
“Before we continue, words to eliminate from your vocabulary,” Hamilton said. “Sorry and okay. Possibly others but those are a start. Understood?”
“Aye, aye, sir!” Faith barked. “S…s….Aye, aye, sir!”
“Marines are respectful,” Hamilton said. “They’re not exactly polite. They don’t apologize. Ever. They don’t say ‘excuse me could you pass the pepper, please?’ ‘Pass the pepper, please!’ You should also try to eschew contractions. ‘It is,’ not ‘it’s.’ ‘Do not’ as opposed to ‘don’t.’ Short, declarative sentences. Whenever possible, less than ten words. To the drill thing. Where there are no more pressing details, you will continue to drill PFC Condrey to Staff Sergeant Decker’s direction. Since you’ll be doing the training schedule on the float you’ll find the time. Decker—though, in my professional opinion, bat-shit insane—has all the Marine aspects that you lack. You can learn from his example. Roger?”
“Roger, sir!” Faith snapped.
“Onboard, you will march, ramrod straight, absolutely everywhere,” Hamilton said. “Eyes front and on parade.”
“Aye, aye, sir!” Faith said.
“When you hit the beach, it’s up to you,” Hamilton said. “I don’t want anything interfering with your combat ability. However, I strongly suggest that you bark every order. Forget you’re thirteen, forget you think they don’t trust you. You are the mistress of this mission. Own it. You do this for a year, and that’s the minimum I’m going to require, and you’re never going to be able to do anything else. And then you will truly be the epitome of a Marine officer. Oorah? Now we both have a briefing to prepare for.”
“’Tention on deck!” Sergeant Smith snapped.
The Marines had berths but the ship had not been designed to carry Marines. So most of their combat gear was stored separately. It was also where the weapons were being sorted and cleaned for issue to “local militias” if they found survivors.
“Staff Sergeant!” Faith said without calling “at ease.”
“Ma’am?” Staff Sergeant Barnard said.
“Inspection in combat gear, quarter deck, ten minutes. All Marine landing personnel. Carry on.”
Faith spun in place and exited the compartment.
“What… the… hell…?” Smitty said.
“All of you fall in on your gear,” Staff Sergeant Barnard said, shaking her head. “You will be on the quarterdeck in five minutes.”
CHAPTER 13
When the Marines fell in on the quarterdeck, in this case an open area on the fantail of the forward-stack vessel, Faith was leaned up against one of the cargo containers, buffing her nails. She was, however, in full ground combat gear with her own addition of spare knives.
She let Staff Sergeant Barnard fall the Marines in and do a preinspection. When the staff sergeant was done she strode to her assigned spot at the front of the formation and saluted.
“The unit is prepared for inspection, ma’am,” Barnard said.
Faith looked at her watch and nodded.
“You have one minute and thirty seconds left, Staff Sergeant,” Faith said, without barking, returning the salute or straightening up. “You sure you want me to take it?”
“The unit is prepared for inspection, ma’am,” Barnard repeated.
Faith straightened up, returned the salute, then marched over.
“Follow me,” Faith barked.
She marched to the first Marine, Staff Sergeant Decker, and held out her hands.
“Inspection, arms!”
Decker unclipped his M4 then threw it at her, which she caught and inspected. She tossed it back and then began a meticulous inspection of his gear. Starting at the top she inspected his helmet, pulling on all the straps, looking under it, yanked at every loose bit of equipment, checked every button. She pulled out his magazines and inspected them. She handed one to Barnard.
“Spring is weak, get that DXed,” she snapped.
“Yes, ma’am,” Barnard said.
“A weak spring can cause jamming in combat, Staff Sergeant,” Faith stated. “My Marines do not go into combat with bad mags. Other than that, good turn-out, Decker.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Decker snapped.
She pivoted right, stepped to the next Marine, Corporal Douglas, and pivoted left to face him.