Order are Orders

“Fuck you, sir.”

“What did you say to me, private?!”

“Fuck you, sir.”

“How dare you speak to an officer…”

“Holy shit! The new private just knocked the LT out.”

“I ain’t see shit. C’mon Jones, lets beat feet. Besides, there’s Sergeant Moultry’s, let him take care of it.”

“What the fuck happened here, private?” “LT, you good? Come on; on your feet, sir.”

“Huh? Ye-yea-yeah, I’m fine sergeant.”

“Well, private?”

“There is nothing to ask him, Moultry, he assaulted me! An enlisted soldier struck a commissioned officer, what else do you need to know?”

“I want to know what you want done, lieutenant?”

“I want a field grade Article-15: loss of rank, loss of privileges, loss of pay, and forty-five days of extra duty!”

“Roger that, sir, I’ll get on it as soon as we get done with this field exercise.”

“No! You, your driver, and that ate-up private will pack up and head back to the rear, NOW!”

“Yes, sir.”

“You will then begin the Article-15 paperwork, and none of you will sleep until it is done! Is that clear, Moultry?”

“Crystal, sir.”

“Good, now get this private out of my sight.”

“HALO!”

“Hooah, sergeant.”

“You and Tyson, here, head back to the tent and pack up. I want y’all loaded on the hard-back Humvee in fifteen.”

“Hooah, sergeant!"

“Yes, sergeant!”

“We all packed up and dispatched, Halo?”

“Yea, man. We’re all square, sergeant?”

“Let’s pop smoke then.” “Mount up, private.”

“Back to the motor pool, sergeant?”

“No, the company.”

“Why the company?”

“We’ll discuss it on the way, but for now, get us down the fucking road. If it’s not too much trouble, Specialist Halo.”

“Should I take the hardball route, sergeant?”

“No, take the training roads, stay off of paved roads.” “So, private, while we take the scenic route you can tell us what happened.”

“I socked the LT, sergeant.”

“HA!”

“Well, that’s a mystery solved. Thank you for clearing that up. No fucking shit you socked him! Why did you do it? Just start from the top and don’t you get fucking cute again; that lieutenant that you socked is pushing for extra duty, confinement to the barracks, and loss of half of your pay for fort-five days. Tracking?”

“Tracking, sergeant.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Well, I was sent by Sergeant Barn to get a case of MREs, so, I went to supply truck and got one.”

“What did the good sergeant need with the MREs?” “Deer on your right, Halo.”

“Got ‘em, sergeant.”

“He said someone rat-fucked the good shit out of the case that was on his truck.”

“Continue, private.”

“When I got back, Sergeant Barnes had me replace the case of MREs, which I did. When I asked him what I should do with the rat-fucked one, he said that I could get what I wanted out of it, since no one told me to bring something bait.”

“Pogey bait; snacks, like fatty cakes, that are brought to the field. Support is too many letters for the infantry guys, so the call us pouges, which is an acronym for Person Other than Grunt, and they think that we are all fat bastards that eat fatty cakes all day.” “Anyway, continue.”

“Yes, sergeant. So, I toted the case over to where Aguirre was, next to his Humvee conducting PMCS. He has been looking out for me, showing me the ropes and whatnot, and I wanted to repay him, so I asked him if he wanted some of the MREs. We were going through them when the LT’s head poked out from behind the Humvee. I shit you not, sergeant, that fucker stuck his head out, just his head, and waited until we noticed him.”

“Halo, stop in that clearing.”

“Roger.”

“Let’s get out and have a smoke.”

“I don’t smoke, sergeant.”

“Neither does Halo, but I do, so we are stopping for a smoke.”

“Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em, roll ‘em if you don’t!”

“Damn straight, Halo.” “You were saying, private.”

“Oh, yea, so, we drop everything and salute him, but he doesn’t return it, so we’re stuck standing there saluting.”

“Bad juju. A salute is always returned. Continue.”

“He looks around at the MREs on the ground, then finally salutes us and begins to berate me and Aguirre, accusing us of stealing MREs, which he said were government property. He goes on and on, until I spoke up and tried to explain, which sent him into a tirade. He calls us thieves, soup sandwiches, and a disgrace to enlisted soldiers.”

“*mmm, mmm, mmm* He said that?”

“Yes, sergeant. Then, he tells us to put all the MREs back in the case, which we did. He picks up the case and heads of to who-knows-where, letting us know how lucky we were that he was in a good mood.”

“So, you ran up and gave him a crack?”

“No, sergeant, that wasn’t until I saw him again.”

“He came back?”

“No, I saw him an hour later, when I was heading back from using the latrine.”

“Pray tell, private, pray tell.”

“As I said, I was returning from the latrine when I noticed the LT was by the water buffalo with the case of MREs. He was letting the other officers cherry pick through them.”

“He was doing the same thing that he was berating you for. *tsk, tsk, tsk* More bad juju.”

“So, I walked up, saluted, and asked him what the difference was between what I did and what he was doing.”

“His answer?”

"He said that I stole them, and he confiscated them. He gave me some drawn out analogy about laundering money or some shit, which I tuned out. He then started in on how much smarter he was than I was, spending a good three minutes pointing out that he was a West Point graduate.”

“Yea, he likes to do that.”

“Did he break out that massive fuckin’ ring, man?”

“Yea, as a matter of fact, that is what set me off. He began waving his dick beater bling in my face, telling me that I wouldn’t have cut it at West Point. ‘Fuck West Point, fuck officers, and fuck you, sir,’ I said. Then I gave him one.”

“Then?”

“The LT took a nap. And, I may have loudly reminded him that I’m a graduate of The School of Hard Knox.”

“Ah, so you are a Soldier of Steel, forged at Fort Knox?”

“Hooah, sergeant!”

“Halo and I are, too.” “Well, Halo, what should we do with the young private, here? Do you think he had reason to do what he did, Specialist Halo?”

“Sergeant, I would’ve hit him sooner, man. I say we find a way to give him a pass.”

“The company commander used to be enlisted, so I’m sure that he would be quite disappointed in the LT’s conduct. Wouldn’t be too hard to convince him that the private was defending the pride of enlisted soldiers everywhere.”

“The CO is pretty cool, sergeant.”

“Yea, he’s a’ight.”

“Hey, sergeant, we do need a gunner for our truck. Why not slot him as your gunner? Then, you can tell the CO that you can keep a close eye on him. That’ll help if the LT starts bitching about the lack of punishment.”

“We do need a gunner, don’t we? I could recommend the private for a company grade Article-15. He would have to do fourteen days of extra duty, and loss of rank, but he’s already an E-1, so it’s not like he has far to fall.”

“Yea, the captain rarely takes pay from a soldier, so he would only have to do is extra duty, sergeant.”

“I never liked the LT, anyway. He doesn’t call non-commissioned officer by their rank or appreciate our experience. Fucker acts like he’s fucking my sister with that, Moultry shit. Try Sergeant First Class Moultry, bitch! Fourteen years in, three deployments in three different campaigns, and that guy thinks that he is superior. *pfft*”

“Hell, at two years I’ve been in longer than he has, man.”

“Did you catch all that, private?”

“Yes, sergeant.”

“And how does that sound, private? What the fuck is your name, anyway. Your fucking nametape is covered by your body armor.”

“That sounds more than good, sergeant, and my name is Snuffy, Private Joe Snuffy.”