The Command

Ricochet left, not looking happy. The first class got up and said casually he’d take her around, give her a tour of the space. When they were out of earshot, pulling themselves up the smooth greasy-feeling handrails to the next level, he said over his shoulder, “What’s wrong with your leg?”

“Just twisted my ankle a little.” Guys didn’t want to hear about what was wrong with you. Your headaches or stuff. Toby sure never had.

“Uh-huh. Well, listen. Some of these A-holes are going to act weird around you. Don’t take it personally. Chief engineer, he laid it on us certain things are written in concrete from the get-go. If any of the guys get caught screwing around with you people, it’ll be the wrath of God come down. Captain Ross don’t want any hanky-pankying on his ship. Wants us to concentrate on our jobs, not on our lib-a-do. You know what that is?”

She told him yeah.

“So don’t take it wrong if the guys don’t talk to you. There’ll be some shit— There’ll be some stuff—”

“You can say ‘shit’ and ‘asshole,’ Petty Officer. My ears lost their virginity back when I worked at Ray’s Tire and Auto.”

“Uh-huh, well, like I was sayin’, there’ll be shit along the way, but we’re gonna work it out. And you just call me Mick, you don’t need to do that Petty Officer Helm stuff unless there’s an O around.”

“An ‘O’?”

“An O. A zero. You know, an officer. Or Chief Bendt. You got to work together, you don’t do that day to day. Anyway, you got a rack? Oh, yeah, the women’s bunkroom — we call it the Mustang Ranch.” He’d grinned. “Okay, we got a change of command this morning, you better hustle and get your whites out of your seabag. Remember to come right back after, we got a lot to get done today. You can meet the Wizard of Oz when we fall in. Flight deck, whites, half an hour, go.”

* * *

So that now as everybody milled around the helo deck, gradually dispersing, Helm took her over to meet the khaki. Master Chief Bendt, the “Top Snipe,” was short and harried. Gray-black hair grew out of his ears, and his tobacco-stained fingers trembled like a rabbit’s nose. He looked at her for a half second and said to get her lined up fast, issue her coveralls and gear, they’d be getting under way soon for the exercise. Then he turned away, nuking a cig. The main propulsion officer, Lieutenant (junior grade) Osmani — the Wizard of Oz, right — was younger, and not bad looking. Rangy, his uniform tailored better than the chief’s, with a dark complexion. He shook her hand, but his look skated around the fantail, the sky, everywhere but at her. “What’s up with the ankle?”

“I sprained it in boot camp. Sir. It’s feeling better, though.”

“Been on a mixed ship before?”

“This is my first ship, sir. Boot camp’s integrated now, though.”

“Well, you’ll like this better than boot camp. We’ll see some good liberty ports, we’re a MEF deployer.”

“I’m not sure what that is, sir.”

“Mideast Force, means we deploy to the Persian Gulf. So we’ll see a Med liberty and then do the Suez Canal. Jebal Ali and Bahrain, maybe Oman. You’ll see the world, Fireman Kassie.”

“Kasson, sir. I’ll try to do a good job for the division.”

Osmani said to come see him if she had any questions, then let her go. She looked around. Helm was gone, but Ina stood by the door that led down to the main deck.

“So, wot’re you doing this afternoon, love?”

“I didn’t sleep much last night. Maybe I better just crash.”

“Oh, no, you don’t. ’Ow’s the Strip sound? One of the fellows in my division has a van. Be at the brow at fifteen hundred. Wi’ your bathing suit.”

She shuddered at the thought of her boot camp-issue suit, all she had with her. Well, maybe she could buy something. “Who else’s going?”

“Me and Patryce, maybe Lourdes. Might be a girl from S-4, too. Come on, we’ll have some sodding fun before we get under way. A bar. A dance place.”

She winced even thinking about dancing, on this ankle. But she didn’t want to get marked as a loner. So she said, “Well, okay. If you’re not going to stay out real late.”

“Where you ’eaded now?”

She remembered then Helm wanted her back in Main One. He was probably waiting for her there. She told Ina this, then limped quickly down the ladder and started changing with the other girls in the noisy crowded compartment. Two dozen sweaty women shouting at each other and throwing clothes and spraying deodorant.

She grinned suddenly buttoning her denim workshirt with KASSON stamped on the front. A sailor, aboard her first ship. Learning the gear. Tonight she’d hit the beach and hammer down a few brews.

Then her fingers slowed as she remembered what the new skipper had said. About being headed into danger, everyone having to pull together if they were going to make it. He sounded like he knew what he was talking about.

Who could tell? She might even be going to a war.

3

Naval Special Warfare

Development Group,

Dam Neck,Virginia