Texas Nights - Book 13 of the Damned of the 2/19th

The Rod & Gun

"I take it you know the Major?" Captain Jane said, the tone of her voice the 'well well well' that women use on one another when they think they've discovered a naughty little secret.

That made me nod. "Known him since about 88," I told her. "He was a tank commander, Platton Leader of Second Platoon, Bravo Company, 1/68 Armor, when I met him. His gunner had the main turret hatch fall on his arm and head, broke his arm and gave him a concussion. I was the medic on duty at the site at the time." I stared off in the distance, sipping my glass. I wasn't seeing my two dinner companions, the Rod & Gun Club, or even Fort Hood, but instead Atlas. "With all the damage to the site, all the unexploded ordnance still scattered around, the tankers had to stand on the tanks to relieve themselves, since we still had MRLS bomblets everywhere. The kid was climbing back into the tank after taking a piss when the hatch collapsed down for some reason and slammed him, knocking him out and into the tank, pinning his arm. He collapsed, hanging from his arm, which broke it in the middle of the humerus. Compression almost severed the kid's arm. Medevac was at least two hours out, both helipads had been destroyed in the explosion two weeks prior, I had to work on the kid on the deck of the tank, had to have his buddies hold him down while I fixed the compression severed artery. He helped while I saved his gunner's life in the two and a half hours it took the Crashhawk to get in."

I shook myself, suddenly aware I'd gone quiet for too long. The smell of Atlas swept away as the sound of people eating and chatting. Donovan and Jane were staring at me as I smiled brightly at them.

"Tankers never forget when you save one of their own," I brushed it all off, then took a sip of my seltzer water. "Even saved his arm. Kid was back in his tank three months later. Fought in Desert Storm."

I took another sip and smiled. "If you don't mind indulging me for another hour or so," I said.

Donovan looked like he'd agree to anything, as long as he got to keep the table between the two of us, and Captain Jane looked interested as they both nodded.

I waved the waiter over, showed him my ID, then pointed at what I wanted on the menu, then put my finger to my lips to keep him quiet.

"What's going on, Chief?" Captain Jane asked.

"Just, indulge me, if you please," I smiled, leaning back.

"What do you think of Charlie after your first week, Chief?" Captain Jane asked me.

I thought for a second. "You want my real feelings, or shall I be diplomatic?"

Captain Jane chuckled, smiling slightly. "How about your real feelings? I assume they match your welcoming statement?"

I nodded. "It's even worse." I said simply. "You've got at least one abusive officer. Nobody is really training anyone," I sipped at my glass, "Today's classes were worthless. I sat in on two of them, the first one was putting a field dressing on, which was bad enough that if they use those techniques they'll kill someone, and the other was applying a splint. Both of which were being taught to medics. It was a waste of training time. You have exactly five people with driver's licenses in the entire company, including you and me, and almost nobody is licensed on vehicles."

"I'm aware of all those problems. Well, not the training," She sipped her glass of root beer. "Well, you're the Training OIC, do you have a plan?"

I nodded. "It will take three or four months, but I'm pretty sure I can get this unit in shape," I stared at her. "Blackjack Brigade just received notification that they will be placed on the Rapid Deployment Brigade listing. We have three months to get into shape."

"Can I ask a question, Ma'am?" Donovan asked.

I nodded at him. "Go ahead, Specialist."

"There isn't any conflict in the near future. What's the big deal? We'll have plenty of warning," He said.