Tales from the Academy

Chapter 35

"You are not officers, you are not even soldiers. You cannot give orders to soldiers and they would be wrong to obey any order that you gave."

Anny sat in the lecture hall and listened to Major Harcout, the Academy's Provost, tell her something she already knew. She glanced around and could see that the several hundred other cadets present were thinking the same thing: We know all this! Get on with it! Jer, sitting next to her, caught her eye and shrugged.

"You are officer candidates—potential officers, potential soldiers." Harcout paused and looked them over from the front of the hall. "However, for your upcoming apprentice tours of duty it will be necessary for you to act as real officers. You must be able to issue legal orders. You need to be in the chain of command of whatever unit you are assigned to. Therefore, today you will be sworn into the service of the Imperium as temporary 'ensigns-junior grade'. As such, you will be superior to all enlisted men and non-commission officers, but junior to every other commissioned officer. Since this rank only exists for this purpose, the only others you will encounter with this rank will be other cadets. Seniority among yourselves will be established by your cadet rank or class rankings."

Anny looked down at the sleeves of her brand new undress greens. This was the first time she'd ever been permitted to wear the uniform and once the cruise was over she wouldn't wear them again until after graduation. A thin gold welt circled the sleeves a few centimeters above the cuff. Ensign, junior grade. The lowest commissioned rank there was. The joke went that if anyone ever saluted an ensign jaygee the light must have been bad. Still, she felt proud of it. A real officer, even if just temporarily.

"Cadets!" said Harcourt loudly. "Are you prepared to take the oath? Let any who have doubts of their ability to carry out this grave responsibility leave now!" Anny tensed, this was all part of the ceremony. Silence filled the hall and no one moved. "Very well! Stand and raise your right hands." Everyone was on their feet in an instant, hands raised and faces intent.

"Repeat after me: I, state your name…"

"I, Andreanne Payne…"

"Do hereby solemnly swear and affirm, that for the duration of this commission I will, as an officer of the Imperial Forces, bear true faith and allegiance to His Imperial Majesty Emperor Gregor Vorbarra, and will faithfully serve His Imperial Majesty in whatever duties are assigned to me. That I will defend the Barrayaran Imperium against all enemies, even unto death. That I will obey all lawful orders given to me by His Majesty or such deputies as He shall appoint, and that I will duly lead those placed under my command, respecting their oaths as they respect mine."

Anny had studied the oath and its meaning before, but somehow now, when it was for real, it seemed to roll over her with the force of an avalanche. She found herself short of breath and tingling from head to toe. Around her many cadets were adding their own postscripts to whatever god they possessed. Except for the small but important 'for the duration of this commission' it was identical to the oath they would swear at graduation when they became officers permanently.

Harcourt looked them over again but to Anny's surprise his stern expression slowly became one of amusement and he leaned back against a table that was at the head of the lecture hall and folded his arms across his chest. "One word of advice before you ship out: Don't let it go to your heads," he chuckled. "You are all about to join active combat units. Veterans, gentlemen! They aren't going to be the least bit impressed by that scrap of braid on your cuffs, or the tabs on your collars. Oh, the enlisted men and NCOs will obey your orders, because that's what they've been trained to do, but make no mistake: you are there to learn from them! Not vice-versa. I'm sure your commanders will drill this same lesson into you when you get there—and probably a lot less politely than I'm doing now. If you go off and start acting like the lords of creation because of an ensign jaygee rank, you are going to have a very tough time of it."

Everyone seemed to be sobered by this—at least on the outside. But Anny could feel her own excitement and she imagined that every other cadet—excuse me, every other officer—in the room felt the same way.

"All right," said Harcourt. "Attention!" Everyone snapped to. "Gentlemen, carry out your assignments! The formation is dismissed!" The assemblage relaxed and a low murmur of voices rose up, but most people started heading for the exits immediately. They had less than an hour until their shuttle left and they had brought their duffle bags to the lecture hall so that they wouldn't have to go back to the barracks. Anny found hers where she had left it outside and waited until Jer, Alby, Patric, Danis Fallon, and the three other cadets all heading to the same destination, were ready and then they all trooped out and headed for the Academy landing field. The mass of others had all sorted themselves into similar groups. Some were headed up to ships waiting in orbit (the lucky ones on the naval track), some would be leaving for ground units of various kinds, while others were off to various technical training schools. Anny and her friends were on their way to a base on South Continent where they would be hooking up with the 42nd Infantry (Assault) for a few days of orientation and then they, too would be heading into orbit.

Anny shifted the awkward duffle on her shoulder. Unlike their brief trip to Komarr, this time they would be away for months and they needed to bring a lot more stuff along, including their classroom assignments, although those were all in electronic form and didn't add to the load—except psychologically. "Last chance to run back and grab anything you've forgotten," she said to the others.

"If I've forgotten it, I'll learn to live without it," said Alby. "Or buy another. And that reminds me: don't you peasants be shy about borrowing some money if you need it. Those monthly allowances they grant you are a joke."

The others laughed, but there was a slightly embarrassed ring to it. What Alby said was true: the Academy did provide its cadets with a tiny pittance for living expenses, but it was hardly even spending money. Not that things would get much better when they graduated. One of the ways the Vors had tried to keep non-Vors out of the officer corps even after the legal restrictions were lifted was to keep the pay scales so low that anyone without an independent source of money was going to find it very hard to get by on just their salary. Things had improved somewhat in recent years, especially in the upper ranks, but impoverished junior officers were all too common.

But two salaries together, that wouldn't be so bad… She glanced at Jer. She could still feel the warmth, the love and the calm of the night of the Formal. Just having him there beside her, all her cares and worries had seeped away—if even for just a few hours. It had been heaven. He was her refuge against an insane universe. She wanted that refuge there… always. Ensigns aren't allowed to marry, but we'll graduate as lieutenants. Marriage? Had she actually let that thought creep into her head? Now that was insane! Don't even think about it. Later, there'll be time for that later.

They reached the landing field just as a shuttle was taking off. Theirs wouldn't be along for another twenty minutes or so. They dumped their bags on the ground next to their assigned pad and waited. Anny smiled when she saw that not only her immediate comrades, but all the others were just standing or wandering aimlessly. One important lesson they'd learned was: 'never stand when you can sit and never sit when you can lie down'. Under normal circumstances, dressed in their fatigues, they'd be sprawled all over the place, propped against their duffles or stretched flat on the ground. But today, wearing their brand new undress greens, no one was risking getting them dirty or rumpled. And they did look good! The only thing to set them apart from a regular ensign was a white stripe that diagonally bisected their pale blue collar tabs. She looked Jer over admiringly. The chests of most of the troopers' uniforms were unadorned. The unit citation awarded the battalion and the pins for the Vorbarra Pentathlon and Howitzer Haul had no place on a real uniform. But she and Jer were permitted to wear their other decorations, because those were real. The ribbon for their Distinguished Service Star was blue with two gold stripes and a tiny gold star in the center. She also wore the ribbon for her Wound Medal which was blood red with two white stripes.

"So, Patric, what's it like at Fort Vormeyer?" she asked the tall, brawny farm boy. "I know we'll only be there a few days, but will we need overcoats or sunblock?"

Patric shrugged. "It's almost a thousand klicks from my home and I've never been there. But it's mid-spring down there, so the temperature's probably are about like here. 'Course Vormeyer is up on the LaGuren Plateau, that's over a thousand meters above sea level. Might tend to get chilly at night."

"Is it as flat as that other place we were at?" asked Alby.

"Flatter," grinned Patric.

"I wonder what they'll be like?" said Jer. "The Forty-Second, I mean."

"The 42nd Regiment Imperial Infantry, the 'Countess Theresa Fusiliers' can trace their lineage back to a regiment first raised by Count…" quoted Alby.

"I know the official history!" snapped Jer rolling his eyes. "But what will the men be like? How will they react to us?"

"They're going to split us up, you know," said Anny quietly. "They aren't going to need eight ensign jaygee's assigned to one company." The others nodded grimly. The cruise was slated to last a little over four months. They might not even see each other that whole time.

"But we're supposed to all be assigned to the same convoy," insisted Alby. "We'll get to meet up dirtside at all the stops if nothing else."

"Assuming they give us liberty," said Denis Fallon. "As the junior-most officers, they'll probably assign all the scut work to us. We might never get ashore."

"Always looking at the bright side, aren't you, Denis?" asked Alby.

"Just being realistic. This isn't going to be any pleasure cruise."

"It's not supposed to be," said Anny. "We've all got to be more on the ball than ever before. One real screw-up and we're done." None of the others replied, but they knew it was true. The whole purpose of these apprentice assignments was to see if the cadets were really qualified for the track they'd chosen. If the officer evaluating their performance was dissatisfied, the cadet might be transferred to a different track—probably not one they'd have chosen voluntarily. That's where quartermaster and personnel and weather officers came from. In rare cases the cadet might be given a second chance on their chosen track, but that could mean repeating their senior year. Anny was worried that if the officer deciding her fate was really, really opposed to women in the service then she might end up with a down-check no matter what she did. But then she faced that danger no matter which track she chose.

The low wail of an approaching shuttle shook her out of those gloomy thoughts. In fact, it was two shuttles. One landed at a pad far down the line of waiting troopers, but the other put down directly opposite them. The call-sign matched the one they were waiting for. Anny picked up her duffle and along with the others headed toward the hatch which swung open. A bored-looking enlisted man checked their orders and ushered them aboard. He hadn't bothered to salute them, but remembering Major Harcourt's warning, none of them felt inclined to make an issue of it. Anny found a seat next to Jer, stowed her bag and then buckled herself in. Only moments later the machine's engines roared back to life and they were airborne.

"Well, we're off," said Jer.

[Scene Break]

Fort Vormeyer proved every bit as flat as Patric had warned. Aside from the buildings and the hint of some hills off to the south, it was like standing on an enormous table top. The plains stretched off to distant horizons and the sky seemed impossibly huge. To the mountain-bred Anny, it just seemed… wrong.

The landing field was enormous, Anny supposed there were times when the entire regiment got shipped out and they needed the space for all the shuttles that would require. The private who had accompanied them on the long flight pointed out a building in the distance and said they should report there. Before they had time to ask any questions, he had shut the hatch and the shuttle lifted off in a spray of dust. The building the man had indicated looked to be several kilometers away—maybe more, it was hard to judge distances. No vehicles was waiting or coming to collect them, so there was nothing for it but to shoulder their duffles and walk. Anny was actually glad for a chance to stretch her legs.

"Hey, look!" said Alby after a minute or so. They looked where he was pointing and their shuttle was landing again, near a large building that must have been a hanger. It was only a few hundred meters from the building they were walking towards. "I think we've been taken for a ride," he grumbled.

"Having fun with the new ensigns, I guess, "said Patric.

"And what do you want to bet the duty officer in that building will have the exact time the shuttle landed and will want to know where we've been for the past twenty minutes?" asked Jer.

"Well, there's a cure for that," said Anny and she broke into a trot.

"Welcome to the Assault Troops!" groaned Alby.

Fortunately the air was pleasantly cool and despite their heavy bags, they reached the building in less than ten minutes without breaking much of a sweat—although their nice undress greens were a tad dusty. The duty officer checked them in without comment but he did do a double-take when he saw Anny. "You're all assigned to Barracks Twenty-Nine. Go there and await orders," he said. He detailed a sergeant to guide them through the huge base.

As they walked, Alby pointed to the insignia on the sergeant's collar. On the right side was a '42' in brass and on the left side in elaborate intertwined script 'CTF'. Anny had noticed that the duty officer had been wearing a similar set, pinned on top of his collar rank tabs. They looked very sharp. "Hey, Sarge," said Alby, "do they issue those or can we buy them at the post exchange?"

The man, who had seemed bored, but friendly enough suddenly turned to ice. "They can't be bought, sir—at any price. And they certainly don't issue them, either. The only way to get them is to earn them… sir."

Alby—and all the rest—were silent for a moment and then Alby suddenly smacked himself in the head. "And Alby Vorsworth puts his foot in it a mere twenty-three minutes after landing! A new Academy record!" Anny and the others grinned and even the sergeant snorted in amusement. "Sorry, Sarge," said Alby. "Guess that was pretty stupid of me, huh?"

"We expect our new young gentlemen to be a bit wet behind the ears, sir."

"Not refuting the 'stupid' part, eh?"

"I wouldn't presume to, no, sir."

Their quarters were remarkably similar to what they had at the Academy, although only built for about twenty people. Some sort of NCO quarters, perhaps. There was no private space for Anny and she hadn't expected one. The toilet/shower room didn't have a door.

They dropped their bags after the sergeant left them and Patric checked the time. "About time for chow," he said. "D'you think we dare go look for the mess hall?"

"Should have asked the Sarge for directions," said Alby.

"I dunno," said Denis Fallon. "We were ordered to stay here and await orders. Wouldn't surprise me a bit if they're just waiting for us to leave and then have someone come looking for us so they can gig us for being AWOL."

"That bit with the shuttle might have just been an idea of the crew," said Anny. "They're not necessarily all out to get us." She sure hoped she was right.

"How can you have gone through all that you have and not be any more paranoid than that, Anny?" asked Alby with a smirk. "But I've got some food hidden in my duffle and I bet all the rest of you do, too. Come on, let's make our own dinner."

They'd all learned in their plebe year never to go anywhere without at least a ration bar in their pocket. Unscheduled duty could often make a cadet miss regular meals. Between them they had several standard rations in self-heating packs, crackers, candy bars and various other stuff. Pooling their resources they had a nice little dinner. No one came with any orders.

"Maybe they've forgotten us," suggested Alby. "We spend four months here relaxing and then they'll be so embarrassed about the foul-up they'll give us passing grades anyway."

"Dream on," said Jer.

After dinner, for lack of anything else to do, they dragged out their computers and worked on some of the assignments they had been given before leaving. As the ranking officer in the group, one of Anny's duties was to make sure that the others didn't neglect their studies. It seemed like they'd been given an awful lot to do…

Later, the boys let Anny use the shower while they kept a look-out for approaching officers with orders, but none came. "Maybe I'm catching Denis' paranoia, but I can't believe they are going to be this easy on us for much longer," she said as she came out. "I'm wearing my PT gear to bed tonight in case they have any ideas about surprising us." The others thought that was a good idea and they all went to bed wearing theirs after they'd showered. Anny's bunk was next to Jer's and they managed a quick hand-squeeze after the lights were out. Of all the things I expected to find at the Academy, love wasn't one of them, thought Anny in wonder. She was still thinking about it when she fell asleep.

[Scene Break]

She had been right.

At some point, long before dawn, the door to their barracks crashed open and several loud, rude men barged in. "On your feet! In your PT gear! Two minutes ago! Move it! Move it!" The lights came on and Anny sprang from her bunk and jammed her feet into her shoes and then stood at attention at the foot of the bunk. The others were only seconds behind. She looked out of the corner of her eye without turning her head and saw two men in black fatigues standing near the door. After a moment they stalked up the aisle between the bunks, staring at each of them as they passed. One of them had captain's tabs and looked to be in his mid thirties. The other was a first sergeant and looked considerably older with gray at his temples. He reminded her a bit of Sergeant Major Szytko except this man's nose looked to have been broken so many times he'd stopped bothering having it fixed. Both he and the captain paused for a few seconds in front of her but then moved on.

"I am quite certain that each of you has been told that you are now officers and gentlemen!" snarled the captain without preamble. "Bullshit! As of this moment, and for the next two days you are all busted back to private! Don't bother complaining or crying to your mama, the order comes straight from Colonel Vordavid and nobody this side of the Emperor is gonna overrule him! You get me, children?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Hell, you aren't even privates! You gotta earn that! You're nothing but raw recruits, you gotta earn the right to be anything in the Forty-Second! Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"For the next fifty-two hours, your asses belong to First Sergeant Masucci, here. Don't let his smiling, friendly exterior fool you! You get on his wrong side and you are gonna rue the day you were born! It so happens that we just got in a batch of fifty recruits who think they're good enough for the Forty-Second. You will train with them and we'll see what you're made of." He paused and looked right at Anny. "And don't think for one instant that we will cut you any slack! Any slack at all! If any of you can't cut it, we'll ship you back to the Academy so fast it will make your head spin! Got it?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. Now get to it. They're all yours, First Sergeant." The man turned and left. He hadn't even told them his name. Masucci gave them another looking over without comment and then said: "Let's go. Follow me." He went out the door and they scrambled to follow. He set off at a brisk trot. The sky was still dark but there were many lights on and between the buildings. Masucci led them to a large parade ground that was different from the landing field only in that it wasn't paved. The ground was a sort of red gritty dust.

As they'd been promised, there was a batch of other men in their PT gear already there. A couple of corporals were getting them into lines and Masucci just added them to the rear of the formation. Then it was two hours of vigorous calisthenics. When they started there was the faintest streak of blue clinging to the eastern horizon. Minute by minute the blue grew broader and slowly changed color to pink, orange, yellow and then a dazzling white. They had them facing right into the dawn and it was one of the most impressive things Anny had ever seen. Stark and beautiful and immense—like the land itself.

By the time they quit Anny was sweating and a bit tired, but the months of extra training they had done at the Academy had them all prepared for this. Their clothing was coated in a layer of red dust. She was actually a bit surprised when they gave them a breakfast break. They trotted off to the mess hall just as reveille for the rest of the base was being blasted over loudspeakers. They were among the first in line and the food was hot and good. Anny warned them not to eat too much but to drink a lot. She had a good idea of what would be coming up. Some of the other men only now noticed that she was a woman. They goggled at her like she was… what? Anny had run out of metaphors a long time ago. She ignored them.

After breakfast they ran. Masucci led them away from the base at a brisk trot. On and on and on. Sometimes they had to run flat out, other times it was just a fast walk. There was one five minute break each hour and then they moved out again. The base shrank to low bump on the horizon while the sun got higher and higher in the sky. It wasn't hot, fortunately, but the air was very dry. Anny forced herself to breathe through her nose to cut moisture loss, but it was hard when they were moving fast. The air seemed too thin to sustain the effort. Still, it wasn't too bad. Her friends were doing okay, too, but some of the other trainees were having trouble. She wasn't sure where these guys had come from, but some weren't in all that great shape. Surely they must have had at least basic training before they came here—you didn't get assigned to an assault regiment right off the street!

Away from the base they started to encounter more and more of the native Barrayaran plants. Much of South Continent was still being terraformed (as were some areas of North Continent) and the base had clearly been built in an area that would probably be the very last place to get terraformed—if, indeed, it was ever deemed worth the effort. Anny knew a lot of the native plants that could still be found in the Dendarii Mountains, but here, half a world away, there were few she recognized. Patric, and a couple of others who were locals, warned them which ones to avoid. "See that purple and red one? Don't touch it! It's got little spines and you'll swell up like a balloon!"

"What's it called?" gasped Alby.

"Don't know the real name. We just call it 'pussbucket'."

"Charming."

They started to encounter gullies and ravines cut into the flat plateau and had to scramble through them. Some of it was pretty rough going and they all accumulated scrapes and cuts. They were getting very thirsty, too. Sometime in early afternoon Masucci finally gave them a real break. They found a spot in a ravine that offered a little shade and flopped in the dirt. Anny's eyes and mouth seemed filled with grit. They had come thirty or thirty-five kilometers, she guessed. Presumably they were at the halfway point and would start back after the break. Or maybe not. That captain had said something about two days. Maybe they'd keep going, spend the night out here and march back tomorrow. She looked at the crystal clear sky. It was going to get damn cold out here at night. Well, they'd have to clump together to stay warm and the thought of cuddling with Jer all night was actually quite attractive.

But after about twenty minutes they heard the sound of an approaching shuttle. "We get to fly back?" asked Alby in amazement. "I thought these assault guys were tough." Anny was surprised, too. This hadn't been all that tough, not nearly what she'd been expecting.

But when the shuttle got close they saw that it was a small model, not nearly big enough to carry all of them. "Maybe it's bringing rations or bedrolls," suggested Jer. The vehicle landed, throwing up a cloud of red dust. First Sergeant Masucci and his three corporals walked over to it. The corporals got inside and Masucci turned back to them.

"I'll see you all back at the base." He got inside, the hatch closed, and the shuttle took off. A few moments later it was a speck in the distance.

"Well, this is a fine kettle of fish," said Alby.

"But hardly unexpected," said Fallon.

"So we have to march back," said Patric. "No big deal. We marched out here, we march back." He looked up at the sky. "I suggest we get moving."

A lot of the other recruits were grumbling and swearing. Jer looked at them and then back at her. "Masucci didn't leave anyone in charge, so I think that leaves you in command by default, Anny."

"According to that captain, we're all privates," said Fallon.

"That's bullshit," said Alby. "Our commissions might be temporary, but they are as real as any other and no colonel can void them just on his say so! Ensign Payne is the senior officer here and she is in command!"

Some of the others were gathering around and one big gruff fellow pushed his way to the front. "Her?" he snapped. "In command? Like hell!" Many of the others growled agreement.

Patric stepped forward to face him. Patric was even bigger. "The eight of us here are all commissioned officers on special assignment. Ensign Payne is the senior. That puts her in command. You got a problem with that?" All her friends moved up on either side of Patric. Anny just watched.

The big guy looked at them uncertainly, glanced at Anny and then backed off. "What the hell, we're just marching back to base, what difference does it make?" He started to walk away.

"Stop right where you are!" said Anny coming forward. Everyone was looking at her. "The march back isn't going to be nearly as easy as the march out. We're tired and we've had no water. People are going to start getting into trouble and we've got to be ready for that. We need to work together and look out for each other. All of you others, fall in!" The others just gawked.

"You heard her: Fall in!' shouted Jer. "Two ranks! Shoulder to shoulder! Move!" Jer and the others shoved the men into formation. Anny stood in front of them.

"Jer, Denis, you are with me," she said. "The rest of you we'll divide into five squads with an officer with each one. Get the names of your people and appoint one as your second. Move."

It was quickly and efficiently done. Despite their brief rebellion, most seemed relieved that someone had taken charge. Even the big guy, who Patric made his second. "Okay," said Anny, "who has any food with them?" No answer. "Come on! You aren't raw recruits!" She pulled a ration bar out of her pocket. "Who's got food? Raise your hands!" About half the people sheepishly raised their hands. "Good! All food is now company property. Squad leaders take an inventory, distribute half of it now and make sure they eat it. We're gonna need our strength." She took a bite out of her own ration, even though she really didn't want it and then tossed the rest to Jer. "Hang onto that. Keep the rest for now, but watch your squadmates. Anyone in difficulty gets first priority on the food, but we'll try to save the rest until dinner. I don't suppose anyone had a canteen hidden on them? No? Too bad. All right, let's move out."

She led them up out of the ravine and then sidled over toward Patric. "The shuttle flew off that way," she whispered, indicating with a jerk of her head. "But I don't think that's the way back."

"It's not," he confirmed. "About ten degrees to the left of the way we're heading."

"You're sure?"

"Pretty sure. Growing up in the flat lands you get a good sense of direction. We just keep heading that way and we ought to be close enough to see the lights of the base by dark."

"Good."

But they hadn't marched far before the big guy exclaimed: "Hey, this isn't the way back! She's gonna get us lost!"

Anny sighed and went over to him. "What's your name, trooper?"

"Why? you gonna put me on report?"

"If you don't answer me I'm gonna put my foot up your ass! Now what's your name?"

"McGill," he grumbled.

"All right, Private McGill, to ease your mind—and the minds of all you others," she added, raising her voice, "we've got a local here as our guide and we're not going to get lost. And in any case," she held up her hand, displaying her wristcom, "it's not like we can get into real trouble. We can always call for help. I'm sure that First Sergeant Masucci and his bosses are expecting us to do exactly that. But we're not going to give them the satisfaction, are we? We're gonna get back on our own and show them! Right?"

A few people answered back.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you! Are we gonna show 'em?"

"Yes!"

"Good. Now just keep your mouths shut and conserve water. One foot in front of the other and we'll be fine." McGill frowned but said no more. She went back to Patric. "You better be right," she whispered.

"I'm not exactly a local, but don't worry, Anny, we're gonna be fine. Good job with the big lunk."

The march back took seven hours. It was bad, but not really as bad as that first 'death march' with Sergeant Byrne back in her plebe year. She and her comrades were all in superb shape, but many of the other were not. They ended up having to half-carry some of them. McGill continued to grumble and question Anny's decisions, but she let Patric keep him in line rather than argue with him herself.

They had one stroke of luck when Patric spotted a patch of local plants that you could squeeze water out of. There was only a mouthful for each of them, but it made a huge difference. They stopped there and had their 'dinner'.

Even before nightfall they spotted the base in the distance and after dark, it shone like a beacon leading them back. And they were marching back in like soldiers. Even McGill stopped grumbling after that. Anny had been watching him and now she moved to march next to him. "Private McGill," she said.

"Yeah?"

"Or should I call you 'Sergeant McGill'? Perhaps 'Sergeant-Major McGill'?"

He stared at her for a moment and then said: "How'd you know… sir?"

"Just the way you carried yourself. Your march discipline. How you knew how to help the guys who needed it. A real jerk would have left that to others, but you couldn't help but help. The little things."

"I'll be damned."

"So was this a test for everyone or just the officers?" Or just me?

"The Colonel has found it a useful way to take the measure of our young gentlemen."

"So did we pass?"

"I… I think he'll be pleased, sir."