There was a complete uniform on the bed.
"What the hell is this?" he said. "What did you do, go by the clothing store?"
"This comes from Brooks Brothers in New York City," she said. "I asked Doris Means where I should buy them, and that's where Doris said to go."
"You're now calling the colonel's wife by her first name?"
"I've known her for twenty years, Jack," Elly said. "She said I was to call her by her first name."
He looked down at the uniform. Good-looking uniform, he thought. First-class material. It had certainly cost an arm and a leg.
"Well?" she said. "Nothing to say?"
"Looks a little bare," he said. "No chevrons, no hash marks."
"Attention to orders," Elly said. Stecker looked at her in surprise. She had the orders in her hand, and was reading from them:
"Headquarters, United States Marine Corps, Washington, D.C., General Orders Number 145, dated 15 August 1941. Paragraph 6. Master Gunnery Sergeant Jack NMI Stecker 38883, Hq Company, USMC Schools, Quantico, Virginia, is Honorably Discharged from the Naval Service for the convenience of the government effective 31 August 1941. Paragraph 7. Captain Jack NMI Stecker, 44003 USMC Reserve is ordered to active duty for a period of not less than three years with duty station USMC Schools, Quantico, Virginia, effective 1 September 1941. General Officer commanding Quantico is directed to insure compliance with applicable regulations involved with the discharge of an enlisted man for the purpose of accepting a commission as an officer. For the Commandant, USMC, James B. McAme, Brigadier General, USMC."
"Well," Stecker said, "now that you've read it out loud, I suppose that makes it official?"
"Aren't you going to try it on?" Elly asked, ignoring him.
"I'm not sure I'm supposed to," he said. "I'm not an officer yet."
"Put it on, Jack," Elly said. "You can't put it off any longer."
He reached for the blouse and started to put his arm in a sleeve.
"No!" Elly stopped him. "Do it right. Jack."
He stripped to his underwear, then put on the shirt and the trousers, and then tied the necktie. Then he put on the tunic, and the Sam Browne belt, and the sword, and even the hat.
"You look just fine, Jack," Elly said. She sounded funny, and when he looked at her, she was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.
"What the hell are you crying about?" Stecker asked.
She shrugged and blew her nose, loudly.
He examined his reflection in the mirror. He looked very strange, he thought. Very strange indeed. He saw for the first time that there was something new in his array of medal and campaign ribbons, an inch-long blue one dotted with silver stars, the one he never wore, the ribbon representing the Medal of Honor.
"What did you do that for?" he challenged.
"Colonel Means said to," she said. "And he said when you asked about it, I should tell you that he said that he expects his officers to wear all of their decorations, and that includes you, too."
"You really like this, don't you? Me being an officer?"
"All these years, Jack," Elly said, "I wondered if I did right, marrying you."
"Thanks a lot," he said, purposefully misunderstanding her.
"Otherwise, you would have gone to Annapolis," she went on. "And you would have been a major, maybe a lieutenant colonel, by now."
"Or I would have bilged out of Annapolis and taken up with a bar girl in Diego," he said. "I don't have any regrets, Elly."
"I don't have any regrets, either," she said. "But you deserve those bars, Jack. You should have been an officer a long time ago."
He turned to look at his _reflection again.
"Maybe," Elly said, "you should take it off now, so it'll be fresh when you get sworn in."
He looked at her again. She was unbuttoning her dress.
"Don't look so surprised," she said softly. "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I've always wanted to go to bed with a Marine officer."
"I'm not a Marine officer yet," he said. "Not until oh-eight-thirty day after tomorrow."
"Then I guess you want to wait till then?" she asked.
"No, what the hell," Captain-designate Jack NMI Stecker, USMC, Reserve, said. "Take what you can whenever you can get it, I always say."
Chapter Ten
(One)
Quantico, Virginia
1 September 1941
The US. Rifle, Caliber.30, Ml, was known as the Garand, after its inventor, John B. Garand, a civilian employee of the U.S. Army's Springfield Arsenal. The Garand fired the same cartridge as the US. Rifle, Model 1903, the US Rifle, Model 1903A3, and the Browning light machine guns. This cartridge was known as the.30-06.
The 1903- series rifles, known as "Springfields," were five-shot rifles, operated by a bolt. This bolt was a variation of the action designed by the Mauserwerke in Germany in the late 1800s and had been adapted by the United States after the Spanish-American war. The Spanish Army's Mausers were clearly superior to the American rifles. And when Theodore Roosevelt, who had faced the Spanish Mausers on his march up Kettle and San Juan Hills in Cuba, became President, pretty nearly his first order as Commander in Chief was to provide the military services with a Mauser-type weapon. A royalty was paid to the Mauser Company, and the Springfield Arsenal began manufacture of a near-copy of the Mauser Model 1898, differing from it in caliber and some minor details.
The Spanish Mausers had 7-mm bores, and the German 7.92. The Springfield Rifles had 30-caliber (7.62-mm) bores. In 1906, an improved.30 caliber was developed, which became known as the.30-06. The Springfield rifles served in World War I, where they proved reliable, efficient, and extremely accurate.
Development of the Garand began in the early 1930s when General Douglas MacArthur was Army Chief of Staff. It was accepted for service, and production began in 1937.
It had a magazine capacity of eight rounds, as opposed to the Springfield's five. Far more important, it was semiautomatic. Once a spring clip of eight rounds was loaded into the weapon and the bolt permitted to move forward, it would fire the eight rounds as rapidly as the marksman could pull the trigger. When the last shot was fired, the clip was ejected, the bolt remained in its rearward position, and another eight-round clip could be quickly loaded.
The Ordnance Corps of the United States Army (which is charged with providing every sort of weaponry, from pistols to artillery, to the United States Marine Corps) was convinced that it was the best infantry rifle in the world. In the opinion of most Marines, the U.S. Rifle Caliber.30, Ml "Garand" was a Buck Rogers piece of shit with which only the lucky could hit a barn door at ten paces.
Experience had taught the Corps that skilled marksmen were very often the key to victory in a battle. Experience had further taught the Corps that the key to skilled marksmanship- in addition to the basics of trigger squeeze sight picture, and the rest of the technique crap-was joining together a Marine and his rifle so that they became one. A Marine was thus taught that first he cleaned and oiled his piece, then he could think of maybe getting something to eat and a place out of the rain to sleep. The Marine Corps further believed that an officer should not order his men to do anything he could not do himself.
There were two schools of thought concerning the issue of the U.S. Rifle, Caliber.30, Ml to the students of the Platoon Leader's Course. The official reason was that nothing was too good for the young men who possibly would soon be leading Marines in a war. It therefore followed that the young gentlemen be issued the newest, finest item in the Marine Corps' small weapons inventory. In the opinion of most Marines, however, the reason it was being issued to the young gentlemen of the Platoon Leader's Course was that real rifles were needed for real Marines.
It was therefore not surprising that Item #2 on the Training Schedule for Day #1 of Platoon Leader's Course 23-41 (right after "#1 Welcoming Remarks, Major J.J. Hollenbeck, USMC") was the issuance of rifles-Garand rifles-to the young gentlemen.