CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Marine OTC, Arsenault
As soon as word of the Oceanside disaster reached Arsenault Training Command, a massive recovery operation was initiated. Since Camp Upshur personnel were first on the scene, they remained there until the relief forces could take over the rescue and recovery operations. Nevertheless, it was many days before the OTC personnel could be released from the exhausting and grisly duty of recovering bodies from the wreckage that had once been a tropical paradise.
Among the dead were many fellow candidates, OTC staff and cadre, and their families. That aspect of the tragedy left Brigadier Beemer with a hard decision to make, but Arsenault Training Command immediately concurred with it and duly forwarded his recommendation to the Heptagon, where it was kicked all the way up to the Assistant Minister of War for Personnel and Readiness and approved instantly, without comment.
It was Brigadier Beemer’s decision to graduate the officer candidates of OTC Session 39 two months early.
Candidate Quarters, Marine OTC
“Did you know him well?” Lieutenant Stiltskein and Daly were inventorying Manny Ubrik’s personal effects prior to shipping them home to his parents on Solden. This was Stiltskein’s last official duty with Jak Daly’s company. Brigadier Beemer had selected him to replace his adjutant, who’d died at Oceanside. Stiltskein’s name had also come out on the captain’s list; the new position called for an officer in that grade, and Stiltskein’s promotion orders were expected any day.
“Yes, sir, he’d have made a good Marine officer.”
“I agree,” Stiltskein answered immediately, then added: “You don’t have to call me ‘sir,’ anymore, Jak, and in my opinion you already are a good Marine officer.” Stiltskein straightened up from bending over Ubrik’s chest of drawers where he’d been sorting through his effects and faced Daly. “I’ve driven you candidates hard; that was my job, to push you to the limits of your physical abilities. As tired as you ever were when I was pushing you, that was nothing to the exhaustion you’d experience in actual infantry combat, you know that, Jak; you’ve been there. My name is Danny, by the way.” He extended his right hand and they shook. He turned back to the inventory of Ubrik’s things and straightened up with a packet of letters in his hand. “I didn’t think people used these things anymore. List them. Let’s see”—he counted the thin Docuseal packets—“ummm, sixteen personal letters addressed to Sergeant Manny Ubrik from a J. Lombok.”
“That was his fiancée.”
“Well, list them on the inventory and we’ll ship them to his parents with the rest of his things.”
“Uh, Danny, tell you what. I’m taking some delay-en-route after we graduate. I was going to stop by Solden and see Manny’s parents.” Daly shrugged. “He’d have done the same for me. Why not let me return these letters to his girl?”
Stiltskein hefted the packet and regarded Daly for a moment and shrugged. “What the hell. Okay.” He tossed the packet to Daly.
“Uh, one more thing. Longpine, she’s in the hospital up at Camp Alpha. The word is the brigadier’s going to go up there and swear her in. Since you’re now the brigadier’s adjutant, how about asking if I can go along with him? Felicia and I, we went through some shit together down there, and I, well, I—” Now Daly shrugged.
Stiltskein grinned. “I’ll speak to him about it, Jak. Sure. They say with a heart transplant she’ll be okay and back on duty in no time.” He smiled. “I knew that girl was a first-class runner. All right, let’s finish up this business and then you come and have a beer with me.”
Graduation, Marine OTC
With the recent events still fresh in everyone’s mind and the sorrow many felt over the deaths of so many friends and comrades, the commissioning ceremony was a somber event. Murmured conversation filled the great hall as the candidates waited to be called to attention for the swearing-in ceremony. Candidate, momentarily to become Ensign, Daly sat silently, thinking of Manny Ubrik and Felicia Longpine. Well, at least Felicia would get her commission. Poor Manny—well, Manny Urbrik wasn’t the first buddy Sergeant Jak Daly had lost.
Captain Stiltskein marched onto the stage and took his position to one side. The remaining principal staff officers and instructors filed on and took seats behind the podium. The auditorium fell into silence.
“Tennnn-HUT!” Captain Stiltskein bellowed as the brigadier walked out and took his place at the podium. As one, the candidates snapped to attention.
A tendril of perspiration trickled down the inside of his right armpit as Jak Daly’s heart began to beat faster. He thought back on events that had led up to this moment: his adventures on the way to Arsenault; the people he’d met along the way; Manny Ubrik; the time and the pleasure with Felicia Longpine; the physical and mental tests they’d undergone together with their classmates; Oceanside and its aftermath. And in a few moments he’d be an ensign in the Confederation Marine Corps.
“We have lost many friends and comrades,” the brigadier began, “so this otherwise happy occasion is marred by sadness, all the more devastating because it happened so suddenly. But, as Marine officers, we must steel ourselves to personal loss and human tragedy and continue our mission. Many of you, the combat veterans among you, know the truth of what I am saying, and you also understand that dealing with the loss of comrades does not get easier just because it may happen frequently. But one compensation you will have is that, after today, you will be privileged to lead the finest men and women the human race has ever produced.
“Adjutant, administer the oath.”
Captain Stiltskein took the podium. “All raise your right hands. Repeat after me the Marine Oath of Office:
“‘I do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Confederation of Human Worlds against all enemies; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God.’”
When the last syllable of the oath had echoed through the hall, Stiltskein stepped back from the podium and announced, “You are now ensigns in the Confederation Marine Corps or officers of equivalent rank in your respective military service. At ease and take your seats.”
Brigadier Beemer returned to the podium. “Congratulations. We are done here. When you are dismissed, you will receive your commissions, travel orders, and travel vouchers and prepare for immediate return to your home stations. It has been a privilege serving with you. You have successfully completed the most rigorous schooling the Confederation can give you. Moreover, during a time of unanticipated crisis you rose to the challenge like Marine officers and thereby distinguished not only yourselves and this college but the Corps as well. I am very proud of you all.”
En Route to Halfway, by Way of Solden
Daly had been a week en route to Solden when one night in his cabin he found himself hefting the package of letters he intended to give to Manny Ubrik’s fiancée. He wondered for the umpteenth time what he would say to her. He wondered if he would keep his composure. He was turning the packet over in his hands when it fell to the deck with a thud. The band holding the Docuseals together snapped and envelopes slid all over the compartment. When Daly gathered them up, he saw he was missing one. He found it way back under his bunk. He shook his head. It was amazing how things could bounce and slide away from you when you dropped them, almost as if they had a life of their own and were trying to escape.
The seal on that sixteenth envelope had broken and the letter inside had come out. Daly was not at all interested in reading it, but as he tried to insert it back into the envelope, he couldn’t help glancing at the first paragraph. What he saw written there by J. Lombok made him catch his breath.
Manny Ubrik’s lover was a man.