Globs of paint flew as the VHT-1 Spartas hovertanks fired the practice ammo in battloid mode, splattering the cardboard targets with paint, making them look as if they had been struck by rainbows. We were on a training exercise, and I observed the hovertank drivers along with Lieutenant Michael Meyers and Executive Sergeant Wing. It was late fall, and the heat of the summer had faded. There had not been much news on the war front, not even a skirmish from the Robotech Masters. I did know from news reports that the Flower of Life was blooming around the world, mostly in latitudes close to Monument City. The flower was being harvested, and presumably being delivered to the protoculture matrix on board that Robotech Masters ship.
Were they plotting something? Were the Invid already scouting the planet, waiting for an opportunity to strike? Admiral Breetai had delivered a press conference about the Invid, explaining how they were the Zentraedi Nation's fiercest foe before the First Robotech War, and that they had been engaged in low-scale hostilities against Earth ever since they attacked, without provocation, the U.E.S. Tokugawa about fourteen years ago.
"All right," said Mike. "Let's have some chow, and we head back to base."
And so we did.
Oooooooo
My duty shift was over, and I decided to read my mail in my closet-sized room. My promotion evidently did not give me a bigger room; Mike at least got a somewhat larger room with his promotion to first lieutenant, albeit not a house like Jack when he was promoted to major.
I sat in front of my miniscule desk and opened the mail. Most of it was junk, and there was a catalogue for Sears. I did see a letter from the United Earth Forces Global Credit Union, where I have savings account and where I deposit my paycheck.
I opened it, seeing a typical form letter with the Global Credit Union's letterhead on top. I read the letter.
"Check issued to you by the United Nations Army for one thousand three hundred forty-eight dollars has bounced due to insufficient funds," it read. "Please call the number at the top for more information."
I reread it. My paycheck bounced? How could it bounce? Would not the United Nations have enough money to pay its soldiers? I looked at the copy of the check, with my name on it my endorsement on the back.
I dialed the number of the credit union's customer service line on my cell phone, and I was put on hold. The automated voice kept saying that someone will be with me shortly.
I went over to Mike's room, gently rapping on the door.
"Hi," Mike said, holding a cell phone to his ear.
"Did your paycheck bounce?" I asked.
"I guess yours bounced too," said Mike. "I'm trying to call the credit union, but they keep putting me on hold."
I kept waiting and waiting for someone to answer my call. I finally gave up.
Oooooooo
It was the next morning that I learned the news. I was getting ready for duty. After dressing in the uniform for the day, I ate breakfast at the officers' mess, a typical routine when we were on base. I had some breakfast sausage to go along with corn flakes and orange juice.
I took a copy of the newspaper. The headline caught my attention just as I was to eat some sausage.
"WORLD BANK, IMF LOOTED" read the headline in bold capital letters. I browsed the front-page article, and it read that trillions of dollars had been looted from the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund. The article also mentioned that the interim U.N. Secretary General had disappeared, as well as key United Earth Government officials. The chief of Interpol had called this a horrible crime, the biggest bank heist in world history. An employee of the World Bank had said that the missing money resulted in millions of checks written by UEG agencies bouncing.
I was angry. How could people do this? Just steal trillions of dollars, especially since we were in the midst of rebuilding the world and shoring up our defenses against a possible alien invasion? Someone needed to hunt down those crooks!
I later went to the office. Executive Sergeant Wing was inside.
"Any updates?" I asked.
"I had to spend some time getting the soldiers to come to duty, sir," replied the sergeant. "They're still mad over those checks bouncing. I had to threaten them with throwing them into the stockade. I would lead the mission to find those thieves myself."
I nodded. I wonder how many soldiers, sailors, airmen, crewmen, and marines were angry over having their paychecks bounce. How many of them would desert?
Later that day, I was at the credit union. There was this lady in a suit, and hundreds of soldiers were inside, wanting answers as to when they would get paid.
"I risked my life out there and now I can't even get my base pay!" one soldier yelled angrily.
"You know what?" asked another soldier in his MARPAT camouflage. "It's those Jews!"
"Yeah. That new Secretary General was a Jew! He was behind the whole thing."
"That lady there is a Jew. Maybe she knows where the money want."
I looked and saw Master Sergeant Rebekah Avital.
"Where's our money, you filthy kike bitch?" one of the soldiers asked angrily.
"Yeah, how could you people just steal the world's money?" asked another soldier.
The soldiers- both men and women- started surrounding the master sergeant. I sensed trouble and stepped in.
"Calm down," I said.
"Why are you defending the Jew?" asked a soldier. "Sir," she added.
"We're all angry about this whole paycheck situation," I said. "Master Sergeant Avital isn't responsible."
"Yeah, right," he said. "She probably has a plane waiting for her to take her to some island country or even off Earth where she can get her share of the stolen loot."
"If you think she's guilty, file a report with the GMP."
"Who needs the GMP?" asked another soldier. "We know the Jews did it!"
"All of you knock it off!"
I instantly recognized the voice as that of Major Jack Emerson. I looked at hi; he was standing near the glass door that served as the main entrance.
"You can either calm down," said the major, "or I can call the MP's and have you all thrown in the stockade!" His voice sounded thunderous and commanding, and I could see the soldiers backing off, with expressions on their faces like little children who had just been scolded.
"Jack," said Mike. "A lot of us are angry. I mean, we all risked our lives to save the Earth, and now the government doesn't have enough money to pay us? I mean, why should we stay in the Army?"
"Yeah," said another soldier, agreeing with Mike.
"You know what," said Jack. "My dad didn't die for a paycheck."
Ooooooooooo
An hour later, I was at Jack's house, sipping a few cold Corona beers as I sat on the sofa. I was watching the television. General Tom Washington appeared on the screen, giving a press conference behind a podium.
"The United Earth Forces no longer has sufficient funds to pay its bills," said the general. "I have written letters to the leaders of the nations to summon an emergency meeting of the General Assembly for the purpose of financing the United Earth Forces.
"In the meantime, we have financial obligations that need to be paid now. Our first duty will be to pay, in cash, for the medical care of our wounded soldiers. After that, we will pay, in cash, the base pay for our servicemen, starting with the lowest ranked servicemen first. I, being the acting Supreme Commander, will be the last to be paid; I will not accept payment until every other serviceman gets base pay.
"I understand that many of our servicemen had gone AWOL over this issue. I will say this. If they return to duty by midnight Greenwich time next Monday, I will personally exempt them from disciplinary action. What happened was wrong, and I will make up for it."
"This sucks," I said. I was a second lieutenant, which means I would not get paid before every enlistee, from buck privates to command sergeants major were paid. "Still, at least the Supreme Commander isn't getting paid until the rest of us are."
"I've met General Washington," said Jack. "He's an honorable man. Still, there must be something better to watch, like baseball."
"Or rugby," I said.
"We got to watch how much we eat," said Jack, changing the channel to a baseball game. "A lot of places are only accepting cash."
I glanced at a newspaper sitting on the coffee table. An article mentioned that many banks had failed due to the looting of the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund.
Ooooooo
I continued my duties for the next few days. I had heard that the junior enlistees were paid by money orders from Western Union- cash deposits had to be made for each money order, so insufficient funds were not a problem like they were with checks. So far, there was no pay for the sergeants or officers.
Afterwards, Executive Sergeant Wing told Mike and me that some of the soldiers were absent. He had gone to the BEQ to look for them, but they were not there.
I, of course, could not ignore what was happening in the world outside of Gibraltar Base. I read and saw news reports about anti-Jewish pogroms happening in many places across Earth. Even in Casablanca, a synagogue was firebombed. Anti-Judaism has been around for thousands of years. It was just wrong for people to use recent events as an excuse to hate Jews.
Then one day, as I had breakfast in the officers' mess, I noticed that Mike was not there. In fact, the officers' mess was half empty. It was no wonder that I managed to get my breakfast so fast. After eating my breakfast, I went back to the men's BOQ and looked for Mike.
He was not there. I called his cell, and he did not answer.
I went to the 18th troop's office.
"Lieutenant Meyers is absent," I said to Executive Sergeant Wing.
"Many more of our soldiers are absent," he replied. "I left a message with the MP's."
I immediately called Jack.
"Hello," he said.
I told him who I was.
"What is it, Lieutenant?" he asked.
"Lieutenant Meyers did not show up for duty, sir," I said.
"You tried looking for him."
"Yes, sir. I searched his quarters and called his cell phone."
"A lot of people deserted, including officers. I called the provost marshal's office, and the senior guy there told me the provost marshal had gone missing. If you will excuse me, Lieutenant, I have work to do."
I looked at Private Philip Ducasse, who was assigned to the office.
"Fetch me Sergeant Wing," I said. "We need to do rollcall."
"Yes, sir," replied the private.
Oooooooo
A few days later, I was summoned to a meeting at the battalion headquarters. I had read many news stories about the economic crisis springing forth from the looting of the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund.
Lieutenant Colonel Lupon Kravshera, who was dressed in MARPAT camouflage, stood at the head of the wooden table in the conference room as we all stood at attention.
"I have received word from Army Headquarters," said the colonel. "They have decided to scale back operations to make up for the lack of funds. Our battalion is one of many units that will be shut down.
"Some of us will be reassigned to other units. But most of us will be deactivated, placed into reserve status. All enlistees not reassigned to an active duty post whose enlistments are past the expiration date will be discharged. All enlistees whose enlistments have not expired will be placed on reserve status, subject to recall to active duty, until their enlistments expire. Officers not reassigned who have finished their service obligation may resign their commissions. Officers not reassigned who have not finished their service obligations will be placed on reserve status and may resign their commissions on the date they finish their obligations."
A corporal handed up manila envelopes. Kravshera dismissed us and I went back to the troop office.
I looked at the orders in the envelope. I was not being reassigned.
I get to go home.
Oooooooo
"I guess I'll miss this place," I said, as I stood in the garage. I looked at the VHT-1 Spartas hovertanks, hidden under tarp. The garage had this smell of dust and oil. The last duty of my unit was to pack everything up.
"I guess the Army will sell those things," said Jack. "They need to raise the cash."
"And yet there may be another invasion coming soon. I just hope the surviving Robotech Masters can help us."
"If we can trust them. Dana told me the leaders were killed, but we don't know anything about their replacements."
Oooooo
"This is a great meal," I said, sitting at the dining table with plate of hot beef stew before me.
"Thank you," said Leslie Kravshera. "What will you do now?"
The colonel had invited Jack, Master Sergeant Avital, and me to dinner. The Kravshera kids were there, messily eating, with food stains on their overalls.
"If you ever go into the Army, you will quickly learn table manners," Jack said to them.
"I guess I'll go back home to Jamaica," I said. "I don't have many connections here in Morocco. Maybe I could get a job. Surely my experience in the Army will impress employers."
"Lupon will still be on active duty," said Mrs. Kravshera. "We have to start preparing to move. The kids love it here in Morocco. They'll miss it."
"And what about you, Jack?" asked the colonel.
"I could get a civilian job," he said. "I might start working on my rap career. My friend Bowie has connections in the music business. He told me he's getting off active duty in a week."
"You could be recalled," said Colonel Kravshera. "If I remember correctly, you haven't finished your service obligations."
If these Invid invade, I could very well be back in the uniform again, I thought. Maybe that will be what I wear when I die.
I put that thought aside. "I'll worry about it when the Army tells me," I said. "Sergeant Avital, what will you do?"
"Well, sir," said Sergeant Avital, "I will go back to Israel. The Israel Defense Force is hiring, I've heard." She swallowed another mouthful of stew. "Sirs, it was an honor serving with you."
"You're the best master sergeant any battalion commander can ask for," said the colonel. "I'm sure the Israelis would be lucky to have you."
It was indeed an honor. No matter how much time had passed, I could never forget the people with whom I served, nor those who could not be here.