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

Thursday Training Again

"Specialist Turner," I snapped, tossing my beret on the chair and setting my Pepsi on the ping pong table.

"Attention!" PFC Headly turned, saw me, and jumped to attention. Everyone else followed suit. Normally an officer would tell them to go at ease, but I didn't. I simply walked forward, moving to in front of the class, standing in front of the white board so that everyone was blocked from seeing the flashlight signals to guide a helicopter.

"Yes, ma'am?" Turner asked, swallowing.

"Show me the motion to order a medevac helicopter to veer off in a particular direction due to potential collison," I snapped.

He stared at me for a long moment, then raised his hands over his head and waved them to the left.

I shook my head. "Congratulations, soldier, you just killed a Black Hawk full of wounded and the Black Hawk coming in for the next wave of causalities," I told him. "You're tired and your attention is slipping. Go do a few pushups and then stand against the wall at Parade Rest till you feel more awake," I pointed at the wall. He nodded. He didn't look angry about it, just slightly relieved that I didn't chew his ass off and had correctly ID'd his problem.

"May I, Sergeant?" I asked SSG Bateman. The NCO nodded and I moved over to where he had been standing, taking the offered chalk baton when he sat down.

"Good morning, Charlie Company," I told them. "Take your seats," I ordered. They all sat. Some people were looking confused, and I saw more than one person roll their eyes.

I saw twelve new faces from our recent PERSCOM draw. Two of them were E-5's, one E-6, a smattering of E-4's, and the rest were E-1's and two E-2's.

"Before I begin, are they any questions?" I asked.

SGT Wildman, one of the newbies who had come in at the middle of December, raised his hand. "Are we really going to use this, Ma'am? This class seems like make-work to me."

"Who do you think will be guiding in the helicopters during an active deployment, Sergeant?" I asked mildly. "On the battlefield or even when we are operating as a forward medical support site, who will guide them in, Air Force Pararescue? The Rangers perhaps?"

He snorted. "No, ma'am, but this isn't the Vietnam Era, and we're a Forward Support Battalion, not an evac hospital."

I raised an eyebrow. "You don't think everyone needs this? You don't think Charlie Company might need to know this skill?"

He shook his head. "No, ma'am." He was ignoring the guy next to him who was trying to signal him to veer off and not pursue this line of questioning. "I mean, I can understand a few guys learning this in the off chance we have to bring in a helicopter, but everyone learning it? It's a waste of time, ma'am."

"I happen to disagree, sergeant," I told him.

"You're wrong, ma'am," he gave a half-sneer.

"What makes you think that your opinion is valid over my opinion that this skill could be vital?" I asked him.

He just gave me a sly look and tapped his right shoulder, where his 10th Mountain combat patch was sitting.

Someone groaned.

Well, I wanted to do this in private, later, but since he insisted.

"And how long have you been in this Man's Army?" I asked, keeping my voice quiet and soft.

"Four years, ma'am," he said it with a certain level of smugness. "I was promoted while I was deployed to Desert Storm with 10th Mountain," The level of smug went up and he actually looked around at everyone else smiling when he mentioned 10th Mountain.