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

Old Ghosts

Field Site Twenty-Three
North Fort Hood,  Texas
CONUS
21 Jan, 1992
2200 Hours

The TOC was warm when I pushed my way through the overlapping canvas flaps after putting on my sunglasses. SSG Meyers was on Sergeant of the Guard duty, and he started glaring at me as soon as he realized who it was. He was sitting with Sergeant Wildman and I gave both of them a grin. I walked over to the coffee thermoses and poured myself a nice cup of coffee, mixed in cream and sugar, and went over to grab one of the field chairs.

"Hello, Sergeants," I smiled at them. My hip popped when I sat down and I gave a pleased sigh. Neither one commented on the fact I wasn't wearing my helmet or boonie-cap and was just wearing a soft-cap.

I was covered in the distinctive blue/gray mud of Fort Hood and had a line of gummy dried blood across my lower lip where it had been split earlier in the evening.

"Good evening, ma'am," SSG Meyers said, looking down at the MRE foil pack he had sitting on the top of the stove.

"Enjoying my bullshit training, Sergeant?" I asked him, blowing on my coffee and smiling at him.

He knew exactly what I was referring to.

Sergeant Wildman frowned when SSG Meyer gave me a big grin. "Hell yes, Chief."

When Wildman gave him an odd look SSG Meyer shrugged. "The Chief and me, we got off on the wrong foot one night."

"He thought I was typical of most female officers he's had the unfortunate experience of serving under," I said, setting down the paper coffee cup between my feet and digging out my cigarettes.

"Glad you didn't hold it against me," Meyers said.

I just shrugged, lighting a cigarette. "Like I told you, Sergeant, I didn't join the Army to make friends, and all my friends are dead anyway."

Wildman was still giving me the stink-eye, but we were in the field, so I didn't really care.

"How's the lip?" Meyers asked me.

I put away my smokes and lighter. "Still feels puffy. PFC West's got a good right hook and I didn't see it coming," I waved at him. "How's the leg?"

He grinned. "Not bad. Bruised the back of my thigh, but not bad."

"Liked that?" I smiled at him, referring to the way I'd ducked under his punch and knocked his leg out from under him with the butt of my rifle.

"Yeah, it was pretty slick," He said. He rolled his neck to pop it. "I'm really enjoying the hand to hand drills."

Wildman colored at the reference. Short little Peel had made quick work of him despite his size and reach. She'd reacted quickly to his one punch, grabbing his wrist, flipping him over her hip, and putting him in an arm bar.

The drills focused on gaining control of someone without too much additional injury to them. Sometimes patients could be confused and/or violent due to trauma and you had to resort to physically controlling them.

"How's the line look?" Meyers picked up his foil wrapper and tasted the Chicken ala King he squeezed out. He grimaced at the taste, but it must have been warm enough.

"Having our simulated EPOW's stay in character and having Charlie treat them and guard them was a good idea, Meyers," I told him. "I put your name on that part of the training. Credit where credit is due."

That got a surprised look from Wildman that Meyers caught. The Staff Sergeant laughed, waving at me. "She ain't gonna take credit for your ideas and work, Wildman."