THE RECRUIT
By: Gerald A. Polley
Chapter 12
Finally the day every recruit waited for came. On the final
afternoon of training their instructors marched them to the supply
depot and they were issued their dress uniforms. In the morning
they would get their next orders. Imal had arranged a surprise
for his companions. He got home and found the officers and his
wife busy. So he spent some time with Tabitha. The officers
were leaving when Tabitha looked up.
"I probably
shouldn't say," she whispered, "mother will probably be mad, but you
got a letter that had that pretty picture on it with the lady holding
the scales. Mother hid it. I don't know why."
Imal looked at his daughter then roughed her hair. "Sometimes
it's perfectly all right to tell secrets," he assured her. "If
the letter was for me mother should not be hiding it!"
As soon as all the officers left Imal went out. "I have a letter from the adjutant's office?" he asked.
His wife sighed. "I've been snitched on, huh?"
Imal nodded. "And you will inform the snitcher," he remarked,
"that what she did was totally appropriate. Letter!"
Sabrina produced the letter. Imal opened it. "As you are
the husband of the officer in question," it gave his wife's name and
rank, "I must inform you that she is restricted from all combat duty
for the next two years, or until such time as medical says she can
return to the field. As the father of the child you must be
informed. It is required that you return this letter signed in
the appropriate place so we know that you have been duly notified.
Imal stared at the letter. "Father of the child?" he muttered,
then said it very loudly, then screamed it, grabbed his wife, and spun
her around and around, laughing joyously.
"I warned you!" his wife sighed when he finally let go, "We should've taken precautions!"
"I don't see why," Imal answered. "You can plan this little
nightmare we've got in mind for these idiots, but you can leave it to
others to carry it out. As they say, at the moment you have a far
more important duty!"
They heard laughter and
turned to see everybody else in the house staring at them with joyous
eyes. Tabitha, with her biggest smile, asked "Am I going to have
a brother or, a sister?"
Her mother
laughed. "It's too early to tell!" she answered. "But just
as soon as we're sure I'll let you know!"
Tabitha put her arms on her hips and snorted "You better!" Everyone roared with laughter.
The next morning everybody had gotten ready and were headed to the bus,
when Imal ran into a chest, literally! He put his face in
it! Startled he backed up into his wife and she backed up into
everybody else! Tabitha looked up and went "Woo! Is he a
wrestler?"
The man in the big, funny hat
laughed. "No, dear!" he answered, "I'm a Texan. I'm Johnathan
McClintock. I've come to thank your daddy for saving our Rose. As
soon as I got the message from you people that they'd matched her DNA
and they were quite sure she was my daughter, I grabbed everybody I
could gather and got a transport! I cannot put into words, young
man, how I feel! There are simply no words for it. God
bless you and thank you just ain't enough! What those animals
did, what they were going to do if you folks hadn't got there,
anything, anything you need, son, you just say so! I own half of
Texas and much of a couple of other states! I got plenty of
people. We're workin' like anything to find places for all these
children, not just my own. This is my son Peter, he just finished
a tour with The Marine Corps but thought if he could get in with you
people he might have a chance of becoming an officer. Could you
put in a good word?"
"I can introduce him to the
recruiting officer," Imal answered. "The rest is up to
them. But we need officers! And if he's a good training
prospect, I wouldn't be surprised."
The big Texan
looked beyond Imal. "Glory be to God in Heaven!" he cried. "Is
that Roseanne? My God, you've grown, girl! And it looks
like you've got in some good circumstances."
"Yes, Mr.
McClintock," Roseanne answered, "it's me! And yes, I've got in
some very good circumstances. God has been very good to me, though it's
not deserving."
"Now, now!" the burly Texan argued,
"Never question God's good graces, girl! If you weren't meant to
have these good circumstances, you wouldn't have them!" He looked
to Imal. "Perhaps I should explain," he continued.. "I led
the operation that dealt with the young lady's father. Pronounced
the original sentence of death upon her. I'm so glad that
somebody came along and pointed out we were a little hasty!"
"So am I!" Imal assured. "We don't know what we would do without
her! Well! You'll have to excuse me. We've got a graduation
to attend."
"Got a private bus right out here!" the big Texan answered.
They got to the parade ground and went through the formalities.
The instructors pinned on their D1 tags, the lowest rank in the
military. Then they passed by the commanding officer and he gave
them their new assignments. Imal opened his and quickly looked at
it. He was to report to Warlock school in two days. He was
well aware that Roseanne, Raphael, and Rumple were standing in front of
him staring. "What?" he asked.
"These say," Rosanne snapped, "that we're to report for Damon's training."
"Yes!" Imal answered. "You've sat on your duff long enough!
Now you've gotta get out there and do some soldiering! If I
become W1 I'm going to have 24 people under me. I'm gonna want
capable squad leaders so no back talk! And my wife should have a
qualified Damon to lead her staff. The way protocol has been
ignored around her is unacceptable! She should have proper staff
according to her status. Am I understood?"
His friends all smiled. "Yes sir!" they all snapped coming to attention.
"At ease!" Imal snapped.
The burly Texan came over. "Can you explain somethin' to me, son?" he asked.
"Of course, sir!" Imal answered, "If I know the answer."
"What's this Warlock and Damon business?"
"Oh!" Imal gasped. "Well, I think Warlock simply means one wise
in the ways of war. It's an ancient Hashon word. I believe
Damon means shield, or, protector. I'm not positively sure on
that, but it's somethin' like that."
"I think so too," his wife put in."
"Well, I like your system," the Texan continued, "it's a lot
simpler. If the number on your collar is less than the officer
you're greeting he's your superior, and, the other way around.
Lot easier to tell who's who!"
Imal grinned. "Yes, sir!"
They went to lunch. They were supposed to have five days leave a
week off, according to Spiritist calculations. Imal was still
trying to get used to that! Sometimes they used a seven day week
for things and sometimes a five. It got a little confusing at
times! Eventually you got used to it. But where things were
so pressing right now, they had to report for training tomorrow
morning.
During the meal Peter put his
hand on Imal's, smiled at him and remarked, "I'm really pleased to be
with this little group!"
"You're quite welcome!"
Imal assured. But he didn't quite like that hand on his. It
made him nervous!
The recruiting officer
was more than glad to accept Peter. And he was put in the same
class with Imal. One afternoon they were studying maps and
learning how to navigate without electronic equipment when Peter came
up beside Imal and again put his hand on his. This time his
intent was unquestionable! A few minutes later Imal drew him off.
"I will say this once, and only once!" Imal warned, "Never touch me in that manner again!"
"I don't know what you mean?" Peter objected.
"You know what I mean!" Imal snapped. "I like your father very
much. What he's doing for everyone is really appreciated. Don't
make trouble!"
"I have no intention of making trouble!" Peter sighed.
They went back to training, but Imal was aware one of the recruits had
been nearby and was staring at him. A few days later they got an
afternoon off. The Irish dancers were in town and Imal had been
offered a considerable discount on some tickets and had taken
them. He invited his comrades to the performance. It was,
as usual, phenomenal! These touring groups of dancers were loved
everywhere. They decided to have a few beers. Imal wasn't a
heavy drinker, but did enjoy a couple of beers now and then. They
were sitting at a table drinking when Imal felt a hand on his leg. He
felt it again and reached down. The hand slipped a note into his.
Imal excused himself, walked out in front of the bar, and looked at the
note. It said "I would be absolutely delighted if we could find
some place and spend some private time together. I know I could
fulfill your every desire!" Imal sighed. There were a pair
of military guardians coming down the street, making a patrol of the
area. He waved them over.
"May we be of assistance?" the male asked.
"Stand by!" Imal snapped. He went in and asked Peter to come out
with him. Peter looked upset but followed him.
Imal handed the guardian the note. "This individual," he
remarked, "has made improper advances, asked me to be involved in
sexual activity with him. Or that is what I imply from this
note. I wish him taken to the adjutant's office and processed out
of the service. I do not consider him fit to serve."
"I did nothing wrong!" Peter complained. "I kept the rules. I asked in private."
The guardian read through the note. "The insulted party can still
issue a complaint," he remarked, "even when the request is made in
private. Turn around!"
His partner handcuffed Peter. "Are these necessary?" Peter asked. "I don't intend to hurt anyone."
"Regulations," the guardian answered. "Anyone put under arrest is
handcuffed. We'll take it from here," he told Imal.
"Continue with your liberty."
Imal saluted and
returned to the others. "Damn!" the recruit that had witnessed
the earlier exchange remarked, "Why won't some of them
listen? Why won't they understand what no means? If you
need a witness that you gave him prior warning.."
"Thank you!" Imal answered. "I doubt if it will be necessary. He
had the makings of a good officer. It's too bad he can't control it!"
Everyone agreed and returned to the base. That evening they had
just finished supper when the phone buzzed. Roseanne brought it
to Imal. "It's Mr. McClintock!" she announced.
Imal took the phone. "Good evening, sir!" he piped.
The Texan's voice came back, deep and somber. "I'm just callin' you,
son," he remarked, "to tell you I hold you in no way responsible.
My gratitude to you is still endless. Sometimes they just won't
listen. I want you to know that! I've got to go."
There was a knock at the door. Roseanne opened it and brought a
military guardian to Imal. "I've been sent to inform you, sir,"
he remarked, "the recruit you sent to the adjutant this afternoon
killed himself. Apparently he got a call from his father telling
him not to come home, that he was no longer welcome, that arrangements
would be made for him. He told his father he wouldn't have to
worry about it, took out a combat knife, and cut his own throat!"
Imal sighed. "Bad day!" he muttered, "Thank you, guardian!" he
saluted and the guardian left. Everyone gathered around Imal.
"It's not your fault," his wife comforted, "it was the sickness."
"It still doesn't hurt any less," Imal answered. "I couldn't have
given him what he wanted, but I wish he would've listened to reason."
"Some people have no reason!" Roseanne put in. "They know only the
Darkness in their own souls. There's several you've got to
listen. Count your victories, not your failures."
Imal smiled at her. He understood what everyone was saying, but
it would still hurt for a while. He was glad when the doctor came by
for a couple of evenings and they had good long talks. The burly
Texan had asked "Isn't there some way you can get her out of them
damned yellow clothes?" Imal was beginning to look for a way.
This woman had made mistakes, but she just wasn't a criminal. And
he was sure everybody else knew that.
The
training went well. The months were passing. He knew his
wife had just about everything set. Equipment was secretly being
brought in, extra troops. They had located the enemy's staging
areas. They knew where he had everything. From the
propaganda they were putting out, they were planning on moving
soon. The Republic would strike first, and they would strike
hard!