Futuristic Infantry 13

By the end of the first week, I see it is a viable venture. Getting cooperation from officers and sgt's; after all, they selected me. Most troops follow their lead.
A few total jerks; I don't concern myself. Few enough social pressure will bring them around. After all, all wish to return alive and uninjured.
By the end of the second week, the hard-cores have relented. They understand I do have their best interests at heart. Everywhere I go, it's to friendly banter. They see I have a sense of humor and start to tease me about the actress.
Capt Leblanc flirts with me outrageously. Yes he knows it's forbidden to fraternize with your CO, he's just joking. For my part, I play fiercely jealous - his droids or me - no compromise.
He'll give up, "we-ell, they'd be jealous too. Wouldn't want me back. Best I drop you."
They tip the scales at a world-record 546 out of 550. 4 fail the pre-tour medical; no one in jail. They pitch right in, find 4 replacements and we lift off at 100%.

We must arrive a week before our Belfast tour commences; practise on Brit APC's.
I'm pleasantly surprised, no hot-dogging at all, not what I'm used to. They are sane, sensible drivers. Good stitching with MG's, 2 or 3 shots at a time; not long barrel-overheating bursts.
I have a 6th sense on these things. I can tell the Ra is eyeballing our practice. Good, better we look, less inclined they will be to attack.
One month into the tour, the attack comes in Andy's Town, slang for Andersontown. Both sides of a narrow street, rooftop snipers open up on us. The response, fast, accurate, both are dead.
Now I have one rearview mirror to replace and one bushel basket of paper to fill. C'est la vie.
During our 6 month tour, there are 6 sniper attacks. We win all.
I feel sad as I return, hand them over to their regular CO. Amazing how many friends I made on tour.

I return to find Meena bored, restless, depressed. So where is her circle of slaves? Jail, possession of coke in quantities sufficient for traffic. Not too surprisingly, she has let things slide in her duties as A/Maj.
Morosely I stare out the window. My destiny appears to be to cover up for others.
I sift info, discover today we have 72 strength for the 3rd. Good job no tours loom on the horizon. Still, I stay cheerful. Friday our brawlers are released; bring us to 188.
Everywhere I go in the 3rd, it's to a sullen, hostile reception. This baffles me, people always used to joke with me. Sooo, of what sin am I guilty?
I seek out Lt Duncan, put out tea, "we Afghans pride ourselves on being tough and honest. I
understand Newfoundlanders feel the same."
"You are accurate in your comment," cool, but not hostile.
"Your take please, why do they hate me?"
"First answer one question, with a yes or no, no qualifiers. Were you out and out ordered to assume command of the Ontarios?"
"No."
"That much, the unit figured out, they understand army nuance. Something that distasteful, only ordered in extreme emergency. That is, leaving tomorrow, CO suddenly ill. They are jealous. You abandoned them, went off gallivanting with men. Ignored them."
I nod.
"However, being an officer, I can well imagine you were given a somewhat grim choice. If you tell me, you have my word I don't pass it on. Unless of course you want me to."
"When their CO needed surgery, only one other male officer qualified to take over. Minimally so, promoted to Maj a month before, no overseas tours. They were offered their choice, take him or choose from a list of female officers. Their consensus was I was first choice and him second. They were headed for XMG. Can you, in your wildest dreams, imagine simply leaving an inexperienced officer to lead an all-male unit to XMG?"
She blanches, "my God, the Ra woulda wiped the lot. You saved a lotta lives."
"With my intervention, that was switched to Belfast. Everyone made it home alive, uninjured."
"And yet, that isn't stuff we could feed into the grapevine. How will you manage?"
"Same as always, just go about the job. They either accept me back or they don't. If they don't, I move along. Now, how well did Meena do while I was away?"
"She is your friend, rather not say."
"Please say."
"First 2 months, never available, always gone, no one knows where. Then something happened. Hangs around her office and BOQ, nary a word to anyone."
I groan aloud, "so naturally the battalion was at loose ends. Even less to do than usual."
"I tried to keep my company busy. They did a bit better."
They are stubborn people. It's a month before I'm forgiven my sins and people will talk with me again. A month that feels like all eternity.
Everyone else sorted, the Meena problem remains. Yes she has taken advantage of my friendship and yes it is time to change that.
I politely inform her it's time to fish or cut bait. I expect one of two outcomes: either book an appointment with the counsellors or get back to doing her job. I don't say to do it right, she wasn't before. I'd settle for how things were before I departed.
We-ell, it gets pretty heated. Calls me every name from Hitler to Capt Bligh. Demands a transfer. I counter by telling her not to fill the form today. Cool off a bit, fill it tomorrow. Best to be careful of what gets onto your file.
Next morning I sit at breakfast, dreading it. She sits, with a cheerful smile, "hey, I was outa line with some of those comments. Am I forgiven?"
"Yes. But still, counsellor or job."
She pulls a face, "those da** counsellors are so f***ing stupid, I'll do the job just to avoid them."
We both laugh.
"Do you wanna talk about it Meena? Get it outa your system?"
"Sat up all last night, staring out the window. Realized those journalists are too insane. Time to go find a girlfriend."
Drily I reply, "this time don't put her in hospital. We are understrength."
She laughs, hugs me and that is it. We're back to frienship. That morning, she digs in on the job.

The Meena problem over, I start to see once again the sheer emptiness of what I do and how I live. Pretty much nowhere left to go off base. My main function is simply ride herd on the collective insanity. Almost by definition, I am up to my eyeballs in people stupidity or bored to death.
So why did I become an army officer? Think of career prospects for women as bad, worse or worst. I snagged merely "bad", makes me the winner.