The Reprimand

The drive to the Admiral's office was short yet chaotic, as fire, smoke, and debris made the way difficult. When he arrived, Georg dismounted the jeep and marched into the building housing the Admiral. As he walked, Georg became vaguely aware of his appearance. Every soldier that he passed in the hallway openly gaped at Georg. Georg took a moment and stopped to look at himself. The front of his uniform was completely covered in blood. Dirt covers his knees and elbows and Georg was pretty sure that the back of his uniform was covered in blood as well. It wasn't a common sight to see and one that Georg oddly didn't mind. He hoped that when the admiral saw his appearance he might not be as harsh with him. So with his head held up high, Georg von Trapp walked into the admiral's office covered in blood, dirt, and ash.

The Admiral and the officers did look at Georg in surprise. But after a moment, the Admiral recovered, and the look on his face was stern and grim.

"Where were you, Captain?"

"With my men, sir," was Georg's simple response as he stood at attention.

"You were to report here immediately, Captain," the Admiral reprimanded. "That is the protocol, is it not?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you have an explanation why you did not report here immediately, Captain?"

"Yes, sir."

He had. But could he tell the Admiral that he was in a trench with a woman that had kept his mind captive for the last few months, with a woman that opened his heart to his children and to music after he had shut them and it out? Could Georg explain that a moment before the attack, he was ready to declare his love to her? Could he explain that he did not run out of the trench and report immediately to the Admiral because Maria needed him? That in that moment Maria was scared and nothing in the world and no reprimand so great would ever make him leave her at a moment like that?

"Well Captain, I'm waiting to hear it."

"I came across some of my men who were injured and escorted them to the infirmary, sir."

"That's not your role as a captain."

"Yes, sir," Georg replied, as he tried to keep his emotions in check. While it was true that most of his time was occupied in the trench with Maria, had he not stopped to help, Schmitty would have died and Johannes's head injury could have been more catastrophic.

"Tomorrow you were to have a week's leave. I am revoking that Captain." The Admiral paused waiting for a Georg to react, but he did not. He kept wearing the same mask he always wore in the Admiral's presence. "You are to report here at six in the morning."

"Yes, sir."

"You are dismissed."

"Sir," Georg saluted and left the office.

Georg quickly marched back to his quarters. The fires had mostly been put out but a thick gray smoky cloud seemed to hover over the navel base. The air had a fiery stench to it and ash seemed to fly in unison with the gentle cold wind. Georg entered his building and again ignored the stares directed at his bloody appearance. He entered his room and slammed the door.

Having the rank of a Captain, Georg was allotted his own room which consisted of a bed, a closet, a small desk and chair. To the left of his room was a small private bathroom and shower.

Georg bypassed the bed, the desk and the chair and stormed straight into the bathroom. Violently he tore off his bloody jacket, tie and shirt. He stood shirtless and breathed heavily as he griped the sink. After a few more calming breathes he began washing his bloody hands while considering his reflection in the mirror.

A year in the navy had toned and strengthened his body. He was in better shape than most men his age, but he felt every year of his forty years. More gray hairs were visible at his temples and a few new wrinkle around his mouth betrayed his age. The deeps dark circle under his eyes betrayed his exhaustion, as he splashed water on his face and smoothed down his short hair.

Georg knew he did not follow protocol by not reporting to the Admiral immediately. And while Georg knew that his reprimand was an appropriate, the loss of his leave was upsetting.

Even though Georg had no family to visit, and nothing to do with his time, he was looking forward to his week of leave. Georg had planned to travel to a mountainous area away from the sea and rent a room in an inn. He was going to spend that time eating, reading, and most importantly sleeping.

Those were the plans he had made on his submarine when his nerves were raw, and sleep and solitude were the only things he craved. Once Georg had discovered that Maria was at Bramerhaven as well, he had planed on changing his plans so that he could see her.

Now the chances of seeing Maria as much as he wanted were dramatically limited, between his leave being revoked and her work treating injured sailors at the base. Even worse, the amount of sleep and the ability to emotionally and mentally recover from his last mission was also compromised.

Angrily, Georg punched the bathroom mirror-breaking it. Surprised at his own bottled up rage, Georg cursed under his breath as his right hand stung. Another trail of curses left this mouth and blood dripped down his knuckle onto the white porcelain sink. Georg berated himself at he rummaged the medicine cabinet till he found a tourniquet. He washed away the blood and examined his hand for glass under the single bulb above his sink. With his left his hand he struggled to bandage his right.

Exhausted, Georg stumbled out of the bathroom. He shrugged off his pants and kicked off his boots. Wearing only his underwear and not bothering to put his pajamas Georg collapsed into bed and fell into a tired dreamless sleep.

TBC