3
Harm glared at his 'phone as it rang yet again, he had achieved practically nothing this morning with almost incessant 'phone calls and other interruptions, and the pile of unseen paperwork in his in-tray looked as if it was about to each critical mass. With a heavy sigh, he picked up the handset, "Rabb!" he rasped.
"I have a Captain Shephard on line 1 for you, sir?"
Harm ran a mental list of Navy officers in NAVFOREUR under quick review and came up blank, "Shephard? Who he?" he demanded
"Not 'he', sir, 'she'" Martinez replied, and Harm could clearly hear the giggle she was fighting to suppress, "She's a Captain, British Army, and I think she's your host officer for the firepower demonstration at… at… "
"Larkhill!" Harm supplied, "Alright, put her on!"
"Aye, aye, sir!"
Harm waited for the connection to be made and once he'd heard the tell-tale 'click' he made himself known, "Rabb!"
Gill blinked in mild surprise, his greeting hadn't been that unusual, but it had seemed to be rather… snappish. Still, he was the senior officer…
"Good morning, sir. Gillian Shephard, from Three Eight Regiment, Royal Artillery. I am to be your host officer for Larkhill Day."
"Good morning, Captain. What can I do for you?" Harm asked. Unfortunately his resentment at being compelled to attend this 'waste of time' allied with his general irritation at the lack of progress he had made this morning was clear in his voice, and his apparently unwarranted ill-temper had an unfortunate effect on Gill.
If Gill had been a cat, her fur would have bristled, and when she spoke she had an almost arctic note to her voice. "I am your host officer," And even as she said the words, she was thinking 'Baby-sitter, more likely', "for the firepower demonstration at Larkhill on the twenty fourth, and I thought it might be mutually beneficial if we were to iron out some of the details, which have been left to our discretion." She said and then added a belated "Sir" as a last second afterthought.
Harm had vaguely wondered what his escort was going to be like, and as Gill's voice assailed his ears, he gave a mental shudder. Never once thinking that his own irritability had produced the chill in her voice, he leaped to the swift conclusion that she was less than impressed with this particular duty. 'Hell, she sounds just like I imagined a Brit officer would! Snooty as all get out! I bet she attended some exclusive school and then went to some top-university, probably Oxford or Cambridge. And I'll bet too, that she's got a head still stuffed with some sort of nineteenth century idea that most of the world ought to be still under British rule, and blames the USA for everything!' "What sort of details?"
"Well… your travel arrangements, for instance; it might be more beneficial if you were to travel down to Tidworth the night before, that would be the twenty third, spend the night in the Mess here, and then we share transport up to Larkhill on the morning of the twenty fourth."
"Why would I want to do that?" Harm asked tersely. "Why don't I just meet with you at Larkhill on the morning of the demonstration?"
Gill heaved a mental sigh, and remembering that she was speaking to a senior officer, she made an effort to control her voice so that it wouldn't reveal her own irritation at his obtuseness.
"Firstly, sir. There will be hundreds of vehicles all arriving at the demonstration ground for the start of the demo. Many of them will be transport for foreign officers in all sorts of uniforms, and finding a total stranger in that mish-mash would be fraught with difficulty. Secondly it would take a driver who knows the roads from central London to Wiltshire a minimum of two hours to make the journey by road, so that would mean an oh six hundred hours start for you at the very latest – and that's not including extra time to allow for hold-ups: roadworks, diversions or traffic jams. Thirdly, as far as I have been able to find out, your role in London is non-operational, so I would assume that you don't have any vehicles with cross country capability?" Gill winced at her forgetfulness and again tacked on a hasty "Sir."
Harm bristled, 'Goddammit to hell! The woman sounds as if she thinks I'm three years old…' He gathered himself to deliver a verbal blast but then a little voice at the back of his mind said, 'hey hold on thar a minute, partner! She's right on all three counts! So taking a deep breath, he mentally made a slow ten-count before he spoke, "Yeah, I see what you mean… In that case, I agree I'll drive down on the Thursday and meet you… where exactly?"
"We're at Bhurtpore Barracks, here in Tidworth; you'll have to pass through the Garrison check-point first, and they'll direct you to our Barracks. You'll have to check-in at the Guardroom; I'll let them know that you'll be arriving, and I'll have someone escort you from there to the mess, sir." Gill heaved a mental sigh of relief, 'At least I managed to remember to call him 'sir' this time!'
"Very well, make it so!" Harm agreed curtly.
"Yes, sir" Gill replied, instinctively replying to what she recognised as an order.
Harm caught the military snap in the cool voice and he, in his turn winced. He might outrank a Captain in any army, but he had no legal basis for giving her a direct order, but before he could even begin to make verbal amends she spoke again.
"On the matter of dress, sir. I believe it is understood that you will need combat kit for the demo on both the Friday and Saturday, and Mess Dress for the formal dinner at the Larkhill Mess on Friday night?"
"Agreed."
"You won't require Mess Dress for Thursday night. We're normally quite informal in the Mess unless it's a function night, so either Service Dress or a civilian suit is acceptable wear for a male officer."
"I see…" Harm made a note as a grimace of distaste crossed his face, 'Damn, just as stuffy as I thought they'd be!'
"Oh… and just one or two things further, sir." Gill added, anxious to finish this conversation and get back to work, "We gather for dinner at seven thirty for eight, so if you can possibly make it so that you have time to get settled in and changed ready for nineteen thirty hours, it would be more… comfortable for everybody."
"Yes. I think I can manage that!" Harm said, heavy on the irony. "Oh, just one more thing, Captain…"
"Yes, sir?"
"Uh… I'm vegetarian – mostly, but if your cooks can't manage that, I do eat chicken or fish…"
"Very good, sir. I'll make the necessary arrangements this end… Oh, just one more item, sir. Your driver - male or female?"
"Oh…" Harm hadn't considered the question of a driver, he had assumed that he would drive himself as he was used to doing in the States, but that was when he hadn't rated a driver. Now as a Captain and in command, he supposed he ought to make use of his driver for more than just being ferried daily from Northolt to Central London. "Uh, female. A Corporal Morrison, USMC," he said. 'Morrison's a Marine, she should be able to tell me if what I'm seeing is the real McCoy or some sort of pre-arranged bullshit!'
"Right sir, I'll arrange for her accommodation for the Thursday night too." Gill hesitated, on the basis of this somewhat frosty conversation she had no real wish to prolong the Navy officer's visit, but good manners compelled that she should ask, "Will you wish to stay over on the Saturday evening with us, sir, or will you be heading straight back to London at the end of the demo?"
'How fucking pretentious is that?' Harm, irritated by the diminutive, asked himself, 'Demo! Why not just call it 'demonstration'!'
No keener than Gill to prolong his visit, "I think we'll just head straight back to London at the end of the demonstration, Captain," Harm replied, placing just a slight emphasis on the full form of the word.
"Very good sir; I look forward to meeting you late afternoon or early evening on the twenty third!" Gill said.
"As do I, so until then, goodbye Captain Shephard!" Harm agreed, fortunately dredging her name up from his memory.
"Goodbye, sir!"
Harm put the 'phone down, 'This is going to be one of the great enjoyable experiences of my life – not!' he silently groaned, and then pressed the call button on his desk top intercom, "Martinez?"
"Sir?" Julia answered.
"Can you rustle up a cup of proper coffee, please, and a couple of Aspirin. That is if there is such a civilised thing on this God-forsaken island!"
"Of course, sir!" Julia replied. 'That must have been some doozy of a 'phone call!' she thought as she headed for the galley. Normally the Captain didn't call for Aspirin this early in the day unless he'd had Trouble and Strife in front of him – again. 'Trouble and Strife' being the somewhat disrespectful nickname that was currently (and surreptitiously) circulating for Lieutenants Tierney and Sullivan. There was also a clandestine pool running as to how long they were going to last before Captain Rabb either had them posted to somewhere horrible like Adak or Diego Garcia, or just plain threw them in the brig!
Such thoughts occupied the Yeoman as the fresh coffee brewed to what she considered an unacceptably strong degree, but then again, she wasn't going to drink it, and pausing at her desk to collect the two foil wrapped Aspirins she knocked on the Captain's office door.
"Enter!"
Julia manoeuvred her way through the door while balancing cup and saucer and then crossed the office to her chief's desk, "Aspirin and coffee, as requested, sir." She said brightly.
"Thank you Martinez!"
Julia watched as Harm popped the two tablets out of their foil and throwing his head back, he dropped them into his mouth, washing them down with a generous sip of coffee.
Julia gathered up the now-empty strip of foil, and asked sympathetically, "Rough 'phone call, sir?"
"Rough morning, Martinez!" he corrected her. And then as the beneficial effects of the caffeine started to make themselves felt, he unbent sufficiently, to add, "Thanks for the meds, the coffee… and for asking!" he added with a slight smile, "Dismissed!"
"Aye, aye, Sir!" Julia about faced and left the office. Closing the door behind her, she took her seat behind her own desk and with a thoughtful frown she considered Captain Rabb's morale. It definitely seemed to be on a downturn, and that wasn't good for office morale in general, and his mood, already subdued was almost sure to become even more tetchy if the latest stunt pulled by Tierney and Sullivan came to his notice, as, she sighed, it almost certainly would. Something needed to be done before his mood grew worse. Captain Rabb, she decided needed cheering up, and not only did she know just how to do it, she was the one person who could make it happen. With a self-satisfied grin, she turned off the screen saver on her monitor and opened the 'phone log application, checking for the number she needed on the list of incoming calls.
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx
Gill replaced her handset in its cradle with a sigh of relief. 'What a miserable bastard! If I hadn't seen his photograph, I'd have sworn he was some sort of Colonel Blimp, past his active service date, but clinging to his service career like some species of barnacle, terrified of the real world outside his precious navy! Hang on! Just how old was that damn' photo, anyway?'
Gill picked up her 'phone again, dialled the internal extension and waited for the reply.
"Battery Office, Bombardier Walker, sir."
"Bom, Captain Shephard here… do you remember getting hold of the computerised US Navy news sheet for me a few weeks back?"
"Yes, ma'am.
"Could you find it again, and let me have the web address?"
"Of course, ma'am… I might still have it in my computer's memory… just wait a second please, ma'am…. Ah...got it. Got a pencil and paper handy, ma'am?"
"Of course!" Gill smiled. She had been expecting that; Walker always asked the same question whenever he was asked for information over the 'phone.
"Right ma'am, the URL is…" Walker rattled off the details, adding shrewdly, "Once the page opens, just type 'Harmon Rabb Jr' into the search box, ma'am!"
"Thank you, Bom!" Gill said drily, and hung up. 'Sometimes Bombardier Walker is too damn' clever for his own good! Either that or I'm too damn' transparent!' she thought ruefully.
Putting the note aside, she picked up her phone again…
"Three Eight Regiment, Officer's Mess, Staff Sergeant Ambrose, sir!"
"Good morning, Staff. Captain Shephard here… I need to book senior officer accommodation for the night of the twenty third, for a Captain Rabb, US Navy…"
"Captain Rabb, ma'am?" Staff Sergeant Ambrose queried, with emphasis on the rank.
"Yes," Gill sighed; she foresaw that she was going to have to explain the differences in the ranking system to practically everyone she spoke to. "A Navy Captain is the equivalent to a full Colonel, Staff, and so senior officers' accommodation is definitely indicated. Oh, and Staff, apparently he's a vegetarian… so be sure and let the kitchen know…"
"Right, ma'am. I'll get it sorted. The twenty third, for just one night, and one extra vegetarian dinner, right ma'am?"
"Thank you, Staff."
Gill broke the connection, and thought for a few seconds. Marie Westwood had taken over the role of OC Women in the regiment, but Sergeant Anderson, the Pay Sergeant, was her admin NCO as far as the women soldiers were concerned. So once again her fingers were allowed to do the walking.
"Pay office, Corporal Wilson, sir!"
"Corporal, Captain Shephard here. Is S'arnt Anderson around?"
"One moment, ma'am."
"Sergeant Anderson, ma'am!"
"'Morning, S'arnt, I need to arrange overnight accommodation for a visiting officer's female driver, a Corporal USMC."!
"Right, ma'am, what night or nights?"
"Just for the twenty-third, S'arnt!"
"OK ma'am, got it!"
'Right, just one more thing…' and again Gill punched in a number on her 'phone…
"Adjutant!"
"Tony, it's Gill. Can you let Colonel Mike know that Captain Rabb will be visiting overnight on the twenty-third? Staff Ambrose has the accommodation arrangements in hand, and I shall be looking after him, for my sins, but Colonel Mike might want to make him feel welcome too."
"Right Gill, thanks. I'll certainly let the Colonel know!"
"Thanks, Tony!"
'Now that's all fixed, perhaps I can get on with some work!' Gill told herself, reaching for the top file in her in-tray.
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx
'Not again!' Harm cursed silently but viciously as his 'phone rang yet again. "Rabb!" he snapped as he threw down his pen and grabbed the handset.
"Hey Harm, what bug's gotten up your ass, this early in the day?" The sound of Mattie Grace's cheekily cheerful voice lifted Harm's spirits in a flash.
"Mattie Grace! How many times do I have to tell you to mind your mouth?" he scolded her, but his heart wasn't it, as Mattie could easily tell, even from her bedside in Blacksburg.
"Oh… just about as many times as I break your rules!" The unrepentant teenager commented, "Besides, you should cut a poor little, crippled and deserted orphan girl some slack, especially when there's a whole ocean between us." Mattie continued shamelessly.
"Oh no," Harm chuckled, "You are not going to lay a guilt trip on me over that!"
"Oh well, you can't blame a girl for trying," Mattie sighed wistfully.
"Oh yeah, I'll give you an 'A' for effort, but an 'E' for achievement, Harm laughed at Mattie's obviously faked despondency.
"Hey, that's still a 'C' on average, I can live with that!" Mattie crowed with laughter.
"Not an option as far as I'm concerned, Squirt!" Harm chuckled, "Straight 'A's all the way, remember?"
"Yeah, I remember…"
"How is school anyway?" Harm asked.
"It's going OK… Miss Talbot makes sure I'm not overloaded, and one of the nurses here is helping me with English Lit, and Jen helps with the math, but she's not too good with calculus. I sure wish you were here!"
"Oh, so that's all I'm good for is it?" Harm teased her, "You only want me 'cause I'm a good math coach?"
"H'mm… let me think about that!" Mattie giggled and then paused for a few seconds before she continued, "Nuh-huh, you're also a pretty good jack-leg cook, and I'm told that you're a fair stick as well! So… I guess I miss you for a couple of other reasons too… oh, yeah… I also miss you, just because I love you…"
Mattie let her voice trail off hoping that Harm would respond in kind. Not that she doubted he loved her, but she knew how difficult it had always been for him to lay it on the line, and she suspected that it was now doubly difficult since she had persuaded him to open up, and then when he had, that bitch MacKenzie had taken his offered love and then trampled it in the dirt. Still, better now than after the wedding, she decided pragmatically.
Harm blinked as his eyes suddenly became moist and he swallowed to clear his throat which had equally suddenly become restricted, "Yeah, I love you too, Squirt." And then rallying lest the conversation became maudlin, he continued, "But I hear it won't be long until you're outta there?" he said challengingly.
"Yeah we've got a case conference this afternoon with me, Jen, Donna Le Moyne, Harriet Roberts and the Admiral."
"What, you mean he suddenly isn't the mean, old, bald guy, anymore?" Harm teased her.
"Well… maybe he's not as bad as I thought he was at first, but I still say he treated you like crap when you got back from Peru!" Mattie protested.
"Paraguay," Harm corrected her, armouring his heart against all the hurt that name still conjured up.
"Yeah, whatever…" Mattie replied off-handedly.
"Mattie, play nice, now!" Harm said, a note of warning in his voice. "And just when did Lieutenant Sims become 'Harriet Roberts' to you?"
"Uh… like since when she told me to call her Harriet instead of 'ma'am'. Like the woman said, she's not in the Navy anymore! Besides, if I'm going to stay with her and her family until you come and rescue me, it's going to be strange calling her Lieutenant and ma'am, the whole time."
"Well. OK then," Harm replied slightly mollified by the teenager's answer, "If she said it was OK for you to call her by her first name, then it's OK with me. But remember, she is still in the Navy, but she just reserved her commission, so you play nice with her, her husband – and with the Admiral, do you hear there?"
"Aye, aye, sir! And the Admiral's not so bad Harm, he's helping me with my history and geography studies. He sure knows a lot of history, even more than you do, but I guess that's because he's lived longer. Did you know that he was in Viet Nam when the war was on?"
"Yeah, I'd already figured that one out, Kiddo," he laughed.
"Oh…" Mattie had heard the laughter in his voice and blushed red, thankful for just a second that a whole ocean did lie between her and Harm, so that he couldn't see her embarrassment. "Yeah, I guess you did! Pretty dumb thing for me to say, right?"
"Yeah, pretty much so," he smiled.
"Yeah… Oh, I gotta go, Jen's making signs that she wants her cell back! I love you Harm!"
"I love you too Mats! See you on the fourth weekend! Bye!"
"Hello, sir?"
"Hello Jen. I didn't realise that Mattie was using your cell 'phone. I wouldn't have babbled so long if I had…"
"It's OK , sir…"
"No, Jen it's not OK. You're doing quite enough for Mattie and for me; you mustn't let her take advantage of you!"
"It's not a matter of her taking advantage of me. Mattie's like a kid sister to me, remember … Dad?" she finished cheekily.
"I remember," he smiled. "And I remember the last time you called me that it cost me a TV and a DVD player!"
"Well, at least you managed to borrow the DVDs from Lieutenant Roberts, sir!" Jen giggled.
"I did manage that," Harm agreed with a smile.
"Well that was a saving of a hundred bucks!" Jen grinned.
"Well, that's one way of looking at it!" Harm agreed wryly, and then with a swift change of subject, "I wasn't expecting a second call today from you, or from Mats, everything alright back there?"
"Yes, sir! I saw the General this morning, and although he wasn't best pleased, he's letting me slide on the excess leave thing, but I have a feeling he'll be getting in touch with you about that. Mattie told you about the case meeting, oh… and you can expect Lieutenant Sims to call you at home later this evening to discuss Mattie's care once she's out of here…"
"OK, Jen. It's not that I don't like hearing from you and the Squirt, it was just… that it was unexpected, especially after we talked earlier…."
"Oh, that's 'cause Julia said you sounded a bit down in the… Oh, crap!" Jen added desperately, "Sir! I didn't mean to let that slip…
"I'll bet you didn't!" Harm said ominously as he felt a surprising surge of anger, and fought to keep it from his voice, "Just remember Jen, that people do not like to be handled! But since your motives seem to be pure, I'll let it slide mostly – this once, OK?"
"Yes, sir. But, sir… did we make you feel any better?"
"Yes, Jen, you did. Hearing from Mattie always makes my day! And you help considerably too!"
"In that case, I'm not too sorry, sir!" Jen said unrepentantly.
"That, Legalman One, is very close to…" Harm started to say.
"Insubordination, sir?" Jen asked with mock innocence reverberating from every syllable.
"Yes, dammit!" Harm agreed, but totally unable to hide the amusement in his voice.
"In that case, we'd better finish this conversation, before I land myself in the brig!" Jen said, "Goodbye sir!"
"Goodbye, Jen. Take care!" Harm smiled and replaced the phone on its cradle and shook his head, 'Why is it that all my female staff feel the need to… to… mother me! I've got one mother already; I sure as hell don't need anymore!' Shaking his head in exasperation, and not sure whether or not he should be angry, Harm thumbed the intercom call button, "Martinez?"
"Yes, sir!"
"I'd take it kindly if you would get on to Delta Airlines at Heathrow and get me on a flight to DC on Friday July first returning on Tuesday July fifth. If they claim they've got no vacancies have them check my frequent flyer miles and bump me up to business class!"
"Aye, aye, Sir!"
"Oh, and Martinez…?"
"Yes, sir?"
"I'd take it even kindlier, if you didn't sic my ward and Legalman One Coates on me every time I ask for an Aspirin! Got it?"
Martinez gulped, she knew she'd taken a chance, but it seemed to have paid off, the dour note in Captain Rabb's voice had gone, and she had received only the lightest of slaps on the wrist as a reward for her presumption. But she knew that it was a card that she could probably never play again. Still, she had spoken to Miss – no, Legalman One – Coates and knew that the older girl hoped to be reporting for duty soon, and that the Captain's ward would be joining them as soon as she was fit to travel, so hopefully that would relieve some of the stress and anxiety that was visibly wearing him down
"Aye, aye, sir!" she replied fervently.
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx
Gill pushed the grubby file to one side, "And your point is, Staff?"
Staff Sergeant McReady, the REME Gun Fitter and NCO IC the Battery Fitter Section, breathed deeply. He knew that Captain Shephard knew what his point was; she just wanted him to come right out and say it.
"Ma'am, C Sub is bugg… uh… finished. Sorry ma'am, it's BLR, and my guess is Command Workshops will rule it's BER. I have to hand that gun history to the EME, and I reckon he'll be onto the QM Tech soonest to indent for a replacement! Either that, or we'll be short a sub for weeks while we back-load it to Command Workshops. We can't repair it here; we just haven't got the facilities." He paused and then added as a clincher, "Tiffie Guns, agrees with me ma'am."
"Of course he does!" Gill agreed dryly. "Look Staff, we just operate the damn' things, it's up to you bods to keep them running! Very well, I'll pass this on to the BC as soon as he gets back, so you can expect his descent on you sometime after lunch!"
"Yes, ma'am. And… thank you ma'am!" Staff McReady, whipped up a Pirbright Perfect salute, paused and then with an as precisely executed about turn he left Gill pensively regarding the oil-stained gun history book, which she reluctantly opened to the most recently completed page and equally reluctantly read the latest chapter in the chequered history of the AS-90 Self Propelled Gun that was C Sub-section and problem gun of 147 (Dragon) Battery Royal Artillery.
Looking at the history it was plain that the gun spent more time in the fitter section than it did in the gun lines. If it wasn't the propulsion, it was the electrics, if it wasn't the electrics it was the hydraulics, if it wasn't the hydraulics it was the optical system… Gill sighed; the BC would fight to keep the gun in the battery. But this time she'd have to go against his wishes and recommend that the thing be replaced, it was just costing too many man-hours and putting an extra strain on the small fitter section. If the Tiffie Guns concurred with her own NCO IC Fitter Section, and there was no reason to doubt Staff McReady's word on that subject, then it was high time the gun was back-loaded and replaced.
In the meantime… Gill got up from behind her desk and leaving her office walked the few yards to the Battery Office, "Bom, are you down for duty clerk at any time between the twenty third and the twenty fifth?"
"No, ma'am, I'm clear until the twenty ninth."
"Good. How do you fancy a couple of days in the fresh air? Warm summer sun, cooling breezes, pleasant company…?" she made it sound as inviting as she could.
"Oh, let me think…" Johnny Walker grinned, "You want a driver for Larkhill Day, right?"
Gill nodded, and grinned in anticipation of Walker's full response.
"So… that would mean two days slaving in the open, getting blasted by the sun, or more likely half drowned by the rain, dust or muddy water in the food - depending on the weather, being eaten by mosquitoes, deafened by loud bangs, and all opposed to two days devoted to my duties here, in a comfortable office wrestling with all the crap from Regimental Hindquarters. Uh… I mean dealing with all the vitally important paperwork from RHQ, and submitting ration states, how could I possibly resist such a tempting offer! Shall I organise a vehicle with Sergeant Keefe, or shall I leave that with you, ma'am?"
"No, I'll leave that it your more than capable hands, Bom! Just make sure it's an FFR, oh yes, not a puddle jumper! If it's possible, I'll take my own vehicle. See Sergeant Jackman too, please and get a couple of sets installed. We've got the ECI for the demo haven't we?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Good. I think I saw that we had been allocated a call-sign. If not let me know and I'll get on to the Sigs Wing at the School. Oh, I've spoken to that American Captain and he's confirmed that he'll be driving down from London. Can you make up a route card from the American Embassy at Grosvenor Square to here, and fax it or e-mail it to his office, please?"
"Got it ma'am," Johnny Walker replied, already swivelling in his chair as he reached for the appropriate drawer on the filing cabinet.
"Fine, let me know if there are any snags," Gill smiled as she turned to return to her own office.
Tug Wilson, the day's Battery Runner, who had been sitting quietly rigid while the officer was in the room turned to Johnny. "How the bloody hell do you get away with being so fucking cheeky?" he demanded.
Johnny looked across at the Gunner, one of his oldest friends in the Battery and grinned, "'Cause she fancies me, mate!" he claimed outrageously as he dropped a broad wink.
Tug Wilson looked at the NCO in open disbelief, "Fucking bollocks!" he exclaimed.
Johnny Walker grinned
xxxxx-xxxxx-xxxxx
At zero six hundred hours on Thursday June twenty third, Harm dropped his sweat-soaked t-shirt and shorts into the laundry basket in his bathroom and climbed into the shower. At zero seven hundred hours, breakfasted and clad in his Service Dress Blues, his garment carrier and sea-bag ready packed and on the floor by his feet, he gazed unbelievingly as the door to the Navy sedan which had just stopped outside his quarters door as Yeoman Two Julia Martinez climbed out of the driver's seat and marched up the path towards him.
"What the hell…? Martinez, what are you doing here, where's Morrison?" He demanded.
"Good morning, sir!" Martinez replied, halting and saluting smartly, "Corporal Morrison's in the QEMH, sir!"
"The what?" Harm demanded as he returned the salute.
"The Queen Elizabeth Military Hospital, sir!" Martinez replied, stooping to pick up the sea-bag.
Harm unthinkingly gently swatted her hand away, "Leave that Martinez, I'm not so old that I can't carry my own bags! Now, what is Morrison in hospital for?"
"She was playing in the jarheads versus squids women's volleyball game last night sir; she fell and broke her ankle. She'll be off full duty for weeks, I reckon!" Martinez answered as she accompanied Harm towards the trunk of the pool sedan.
"A doctor now are you, Martinez?" Harm asked sarcastically, "where did you do your medical training, Johns Hopkins?"
Martinez flushed, "No, sir, I am not a doctor, but even a Yeoman can recognise a broken ankle when it's an open compound fracture, leaking blood all over the volleyball court, and make a guess at how long the injury is going to keep someone off their feet." She paused deliberately, just long enough not to be found guilty of insubordination before she added the regulation, "Sir!" and opening the trunk of the sedan so that Harm could stow his gear.
Harm flushed in his turn under his Yeoman's implied rebuke, "You're right, of course Martinez. I should have asked before jumping to conclusions. It's just I don't like surprises. Speaking of which," he frowned, "whose gear is that?" He indicated a stuffed sea-bag and a pair of boots already stowed in the trunk.
"Uh, they're mine sir," Martinez stiffened to attention. "You'll still need a driver, and since the accommodation booked is for a female and that there aren't that many female lower rates or marines that are cleared to drive in the UK, and besides, since you'll be out of the office, and I'll not be missed without you being there, I volunteered to be your driver, sir!"
Harm regarded her thoughtfully. The damn' woman had, thanks to his undeserved sarcasm obtained the moral high ground. "H'mm, cleared to drive in the UK?" he queried.
"Yes, sir! Took the Brit driving test and have a full Brit licence for cars, automatic and shift stick, sir!"
"OK… why did you do that, Martinez?" Harm asked as he opened the passenger door.
Julia waited until Harm had settled himself in the passenger seat and herself behind the wheel before answering, "Well sir, with having base transport to and from work, and the hassle of driving in London, it wasn't worthwhile buying a car, and I did want to get out and about and see a bit more of the country than just London, I needed to get a rental for weekends, and renting a car in the UK without a UK licence is a hassle. So in the end it was easier to take the test and get the licence."
Harm nodded, digesting this new information. Martinez had not only taken a test clearing her to drive in the UK but had also obtained the licence, for which he knew she would have had to pay out of her own pocket, and she'd spent the weekends, well at least some of them, driving around the country. "OK, Martinez, you're right, I do still need a driver. But while you're gone, who'll be keeping your seat warm?"
"Yeoman Three Cooper, sir!" Martinez replied. "He's bright and keen, and the experience'll do him good!"
"Cooper, h'mm... the kid with the freckles?"
"Yes, that's him sir!"
"OK, Martinez," Harm knew when he was licked, "You're hired!"
"Aye, aye, sir!" And although she knew it was risky, Julia couldn't help the small, swift grin of triumph that passed across her face.
Harm sat back against the squabs, "Now, tell me about Morrison. Why wasn't I informed of her accident?"
"I don't know, sir," Martinez admitted. "Sergeant Montalban was referee for the game and she called the EMTs, Lieutenant Ricardez," she named the Security Detachment's XO, "and the Duty Officer, as soon as the accident happened. Lieutenant Ricardez went to the hospital with Morrison, and that's all I know sir."
Harm nodded, "OK. This is what will happen today: we will work until twelve hundred hours, and then we will drive to the Queen Elizabeth Hospital, and visit with Corporal Morrison, after that we'll head for this place, Tidworth. Do you know where that is?"
"I've a pretty good idea, sir. It's near Salisbury, and I've been there."
"Whatever for?" Harm was surprised into asking.
"It's got a fantastic Early English Gothic style cathedral, sir, with the tallest spire in the UK, and houses the original Magna Carta, sir!"
"You bought the guide book, too?" Harm asked mildly amused at his Yeoman's enthusiasm.
"No, sir. Just that I'm interested in history and architecture sir!"
Harm gave Julia Martinez a disbelieving look, stunned into silence by yet another of his Yeoman's unexpected revelations.
This time, Julia let the grin stay on her face as she glanced across at her boss.
Harm had no difficulty in interpreting the grin. Shaking his head in resignation, he returned it and said mildly, "Just shut up and drive, Martinez!"
Her grin still firmly in place, Martinez replied, "Aye, aye, sir!"