Lieutenant Colonel (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 6) Page 20
“And where is this lieutenant?” Ryck asked, already knowing the answer.
“You killed him, of course. He’s still lying back in that house, awaiting recovery.”
Ryck raised his head and stared at the ceiling, trying to process it all. He gathered himself with a force of will.
“You know, this is all utter bullshit,” he said, his voice much calmer.
“Do you really think you need to tell me that?” Bert asked, a hint of steel in his voice.
Ryck had known Bert for years, and despite his seemingly calm outward manner, he was not a man with whom to trifle. Ryck heard the edge to Bert’s voice, but frankly, he just didn’t care at the moment.
“So why accept it?”
Bert stared at Ryck for a moment, and Ryck waited for either the volcano to erupt or for Bert to spin around and march off.
“It is my job to merely pass the charges up, as you should well know. It is not up to me to decide as to the validity of the claim. My opinions, and yours, I might add, mean nothing at this stage,” he said, icy anger just under the surface.
Ryck didn’t know if Bert was angry at him specifically, or if he was angry in principle at how things had transpired. It had been his plan, after all, that had resulted in the deaths of 234—no 235 men including the 2/4 Marine KIA. It hadn’t been Ryck’s plan, but his.
“We will be asked to testify, and I am sure your opinions will be recorded. In the meantime, it is no longer our concern,” Bert said.
“And the families of the civilians have been promised full compensation immediately, without waiting for this to go through the system,” he added slightly less intensively. “So just let it go for now. Wait for your testimony, and by then, you’d better have your head on straight and be rational. Anger then won’t help the dead.”
Ryck said nothing and simply reflected on what Bert had said. The brigade commander was right, he knew. It was just that Ryck wanted to scream with frustration. He’d lost men at Gaziantep because, in his opinion, the battalion had been given tracs that were not suited for the mission and had been forced to use them, just to justify some grand plan put together by pogues. The attack on the fort, though, had been a righteous mission. Ryck couldn’t fault the mission itself. They’d just had their asses handed to them by a better-equipped force.
Ryck was already beginning to second guess himself. What could he have done to change the outcome? Should the heavy water have been spread loaded to a greater degree? What heavier weapons could have been employed? Sergeant Baker, using his home-made Stinger chain gun had been extremely effective. Couldn’t Ryck have followed through and had more made and employed them better? Should he have authorized taking building 8445 under fire earlier, possibly keeping two Marines from being wounded? And the big one was his order to Golf Company, essentially ordering them on a suicide mission. Had that been his only option? All these thoughts and more had been creeping out of the recesses of his mind and had begun to chatter for attention.
“I’m sending you back,” Bert said, interrupting his thoughts.
“What? You’re relieving me?” Ryck asked, snapping back to the present, rain water dripping down his face.
“No, of course not,” Bert said, a scowl showing Ryck what he’d thought of the question. “The battalion. You’re going back to Tarawa. I’ve requested transport, and it’s been approved.”
“But why? The situation isn’t technically over here, and we’ve still got two months left on the deployment. We’re got cross-training with the Brotherhood a month from now on Veracity,” Ryck protested.
“And you’re in no shape to conduct that training, or respond to any mission, should one come up. Look, you’ve taken a beating, and you need to regroup. Two-four is taking over the rest of the deployment, and they’ll do the cross-training. They’ll be falling in on your gear aboard the Derne.”
“But—”
“No buts. It’s a done deal. The sergeant major and the Three are briefing their counterparts now, but I wanted to tell you face-to-face.
“Look, there’s still going to be a lot for you to do. You need to regroup, like I said, and you’ll be getting replacements who’ll have to be trained up. There’s going to be after-action report after after-action report. You’ll have the testimony for the charges that the Sylvingtons filed. There’s going to be a lot of attention on the Armadillos, and I don’t have to remind you that there will be more than a few, shall we say, stakeholders who will be anxious to keep the tracs in the mix. And there could be more. You’re not being sent back to Tarawa to sit on your asses. Those assess with be hopping to keep out of the jaws of all the alligators. So get your men some rest, and be ready to embark tomorrow evening. I’ll probably be following you in a week or so. The FCDC’s coming in—”
“To an independent planet?” Ryck asked. “Isn’t that—”
“To ensure an orderly stand-down of hostilities,” Bert said, slightly shaking his head at Ryck, eyes furrowed and piercing right into Ryck’s soul.
Ryck took the hint. Neither one of them, despite one commanding the brigade and the other one of the battalions, knew who might be listening in. But it seemed rather strange that the FCDC, which had no jurisdiction on a non-Federation world, would already be prepared to move in this quickly. There were intrigues upon intrigues going on, and Ryck began to wonder just how deep the mis-directions and subterfuge went. He had to wonder if his men had died just to enable some government plan to unfold.
Then again, soldiers had been dying for such intrigues since time immemorial.
“Aye-aye, sir. We’ll be ready.”
“OK. Ryck,” Bert said, sounding just the tiny bit relieved to Ryck.
“Let’s go out and see some of the Marines. I’d like to show my face, you know, and let them know I appreciate what they did,” Bert said.
Just as the Bert stepped off, the 2/3 battalion commander asked his brigade commander, not as one friend asking another, “Sir, did I do OK?”
Bert stopped and looked back before holding out his hand.
“Colonel Lysander, not many could have pulled this off. You and the Fuzos did, and this will go down in the annals of the Corps. I’m proud of you,” he said, taking Ryck’s hand in his and shaking it.
It really shouldn’t matter that much what one man thought, but it did. Ryck felt a lightening of the load that had settled on his shoulders as he followed Bert through what was by now a heavy downpour to go see to his men.
TARAWA
Epilogue
“Attention to orders!” the adjutant shouted out, his voice reverberating across the parade deck, enveloping the battalion as it stood in formation.
Sergeant Timko Pleasance’s rich baritone voice took over as he spoke into the microphone, the speakers strategically placed in the stands.
The Chairman of the United Federation takes great pride in awarding the Chairman’s Unit Citation to the Second Battalion, Third Marines (REIN), First Marine Expeditionary Brigade, for service as set for the in the following citation:
For extraordinary heroism and outstanding performance in action against enemy forces in support of the government of Freemantle on May 3, 357. On this day, the newly designated assault battalion, one of only two in the Marine Corps, conducted two separate assaults against a well-trained, well-armed, and entrenched enemy. During Phase 1, Second Battalion, Third Marines (REIN) conducted a coordinated mechanized and infantry assault on the enemy-held town of Hester. Initially using deception and maneuver to confuse the enemy forces, the battalion then assaulted the enemy positions with vigor, making use of armored infantry, tanks, and armored personnel carriers to isolate and destroy enemy pockets of resistance, which eventually resulted in a complete surrender by the enemy as those forces realized their position was untenable. Only a few hours later, the infantry Marines, divested of their armor and heavy weaponry, initiated Phase 2 of the operation, the assault on the main enemy stronghold of Fort Aragung. Loaded aboard aircraft, the Second Ba
ttalion, Third Marines (REIN) conducted the first battalion-sized airborne assault since the War of the Far Reaches. Quickly overwhelming the enemy forces at the insert site, the battalion set up a defensive perimeter so that the attached Second Section, First Engineer Platoon, First Marine Expeditionary Brigade, could conduct breaching operations into the fort to allow for egress of the remainder of the brigade’s forces. Faced with an overwhelming armored infantry enemy assault, the battalion deployed to protect the engineers. Despite huge odds, Second Battalion, Third Marines (REIN) held off the better-armed enemy, suffering significant losses, but never wavering in its determination to protect the engineer team. Second Section, First Engineer Platoon, despite losing more than half of its fuel, but given the protection of the rest of the battalion, was able to use field expedient methods and ingenuity to finish the breach, allowing for the remainder of the brigade forces to enter the fort, which resulted in a complete capitulation of the enemy. The ferocity and success of the mission were made possible through the skills, determination, and selfless sacrifice of the Marines and Sailors of the battalion. By their devotion to duty, the officers and enlisted personnel of Second Battalion, Third Marines (REIN) reflect great credit upon themselves and upheld the highest traditions of the Marine Corps and the United Federation Naval Service.
Given under my hand,
Harrison T. Kaufmann
Chairman
Lance Corporal Gupta, the battalion color bearer, who had been standing in front of the commandant and Tarawa governor, lowered the colors. A private, standing by like a military ring bearer, held out the cushion upon which the Chairman’s Unit Citation streamer lay. General Papadakis picked up the streamer and handed it to the governor, who then solemnly attached it to the silver ring that circled the staff just below the spearhead where it joined the numerous other citation and battle streamers.
The Chairman’s Unit Citation was the highest unit award possible, and it was rarely given. This was the first time in its long history that 2/3 had received one.
Lance Corporal Gupta raised the colors, and the color guard, consisting of the Federation flag and the battalion, Navy, and Marine Corps colors performed their counter march until they were facing the battalion again.
“Detail, center face,” Ryck ordered quietly and the split line of eight Marines, four on each side, faced inwards. “Forward, march,” was followed by, “Halt,” and, “Right and left, face!”
With the awardees now in position again behind the color guard, the adjutant sounded “Pass in review!” as the drummer picked up the beat.
The orders were echoed throughout the battalion as Headquarters and Service Company, all 55 Marines and sailors, proudly stepped off. The company might not be the same size as the line companies, but they didn’t let that affect their demeanor. They had fought well in the battle and no less than 19 of them had received a Battle Citation 3 or higher. That included Ryck with his second Navy Cross and Proctor Christophe with his posthumous Silver Star, but it also included Marines like Staff Sergeant Marten Ekema, who had proven to be as fierce a warrior as he was a good cook and who had received the Bronze Star.
All told, the battalion had been awarded 119 Battle Citation 3 or higher awards, which was more than any battalion for a single conflict since, well, the division historian hadn’t figured that out yet. Ryck knew that there had been a little quiet grumbling made by others within the division about the number of awards, but screw them, he thought. The Corps was historically and culturally parsimonious with awards, but while he knew he was biased—this was his battalion and his men, after all—but he thought the awards were deserved.
He wasn’t so sure about his Navy Cross, but he realized that as commander, he was being awarded it in reflection of the battalion as a whole, so he would wear it for all of them. Three more Navy Crosses—to Sergeant Jason Baker, who was standing proudly to his right, and posthumously to Private First Class Kinko Tabaver and Captain Christopher Attleman—were more deserved, as was the recommendation for Joab Ling for the Federation Nova, which was still in the process.
Ryck had watched in awe the recording of Joab in action as he led his tiny team against the oncoming mercs. After analysis, there was no doubt in Ryck’s mind that without Joab and his suicidal charge, the mercs would have overrun the battalion before the breach could have been opened. Those four or five minutes that Joab and his men had given the battalion were enough for the engineers to finish the breach.
Joab was still in regen, and he would be for a couple more months. He had a good portion of his pelvis and legs destroyed by a kinetic round, but more importantly, he’d suffered significant brain damage after he had “died” and before he’d been put into stasis. He had quite a bit of regen ahead of him as a consequence, but he was conscious now and in good spirits. He knew he’d been put in for the Nova, and Ryck had had a long talk with the young lieutenant about how that would change his life. Joab would be the fourth living Marine with a Nova, and his life, as he knew it before, had taken a turn—for the better or worse, Ryck couldn’t say with certainty, but mostly for the better, he thought.
Golf Company followed H & S, already back up to full strength. Most of the Marines and sailors, though, were new, coming into the battalion within the last four months. To the survivors of the Battle of Fort Aragung, it seemed like they were interlopers, taking the place of lost friends. It wasn’t fair or deserved, but it was what it was. It would take time for the ghosts of the old Golf to move on and the new Golf Company to form its own persona.
The rest of the battalion and the color guard marched off the parade deck and were followed by the tanks and the Armadillos—which were still part of the T/O—rumbling past. Finally, a flight of Storks did a low run over the parade deck.
With that, the official ceremony was over. Busses were waiting, and as soon as the Marines were marched to the armory and turned in their weapons, they would be loaded on the busses to be taken to the Hilton for the party, paid in full by the Federation. Of course, there were news teams dispatched to make sure the entire Federation was aware of both the battalion’s exploits as well as the Federation’s support of the boys in uniform, but still, from what Ryck could see, this was going to be a pretty big shindig. They even had David Yves performing, much to the delight of the younger Marines (as well as Esther and even the normally taciturn Noah). Ryck didn’t like the singer’s reedy voice, but he realized that the older generations had always poo-poo’d whatever music was currently popular—and Yves was very, very popular at the moment.
As one of the eight Marines getting an award during the ceremony (all the other awards had already been given at smaller ceremonies over the last four months), Ryck didn’t have a weapon, so he was free to make his way to the Hilton with his family. He congratulated the other seven Marines—who included Sergeant Baker and Silver Star awardees Corporal Albert, who’d attacked the seeker team with his trac, Genghis, and Sergeant Tillimook, the engineer team leader.
Ryck saw Hannah waiting patiently with the kids, but the governor grabbed him first and spent five minutes politicking—with the holocams running of course, recording everything. Ryck smiled and nodded, not really listening.
It wasn’t until the Federation liaison, who was actually the senior government official on the planet, reminded him that the great David Yves would be arriving at the Hilton shortly that the man shut up and made his quick goodbyes.
Ryck accepted a few more congratulations before he was able to make his way to where his family patiently waited. Hannah leaned in to kiss him on the cheek while Ben simply stared up at his father. Ryck kneeled, and Ben reached out to touch the new Navy Cross hanging from his pocket flap. The medal would be replaced by a star to add to his original Navy Cross, but for the ceremony, a new medal had been pinned on him.
Ben turned it over to inspect the backside, then let it fall before asking, “Did you see the tanks?”
“Yes, son. I was right there,” Ryck said as Esther rolled h
er eyes.
“I liked them. Can you drive one?” Ben asked.
“I don’t drive them, Ben. That is for the tank drivers,” Ryck explained.
“Oh. I wish you could be a driver like them,” Ben said.
“Daddy, let’s go,” Esther pleaded, taking him by the arm and pulling him toward the parking lot and their hover. “Giselle just messaged me that David just arrived, and you promised we could meet him.”
Ryck hesitated a moment, still looking at Ben. His youngest was just getting to the age where he was interested in the military, and for some reason, Ryck wanted to stress to Ben that he was the commander, and the tank drivers worked for him.
Is my ego that fragile? he wondered with a laugh as he realized what he was thinking.
Of course, Bern liked tanks. Most little boys did. And if he thought the tank drivers had a more important job than he did as battalion commander, what of it? A lot of people would make that argument, he knew.
“OK, OK,” he told Esther as he stood back up. “I promised, and so shall I deliver, my lady. Lead on.”
With Esther latched on his arm as if she thought he’d get pulled away by someone else, the family made its way to the hover. The kids piled in as Ryck took one more look around for a moment. On the other side of the parking lot, near the company CP, the battalion was filing into the armory while Hecs was giving them some last minute instructions. The party was going to be packed with bigwigs, and at any given moment, the proceedings were being recorded for broadcast through human space. Alcohol would be flowing freely, but that would be no excuse for bad behavior. Hecs was telling them to have fun, but not too much fun.
“Daddy! Let’s go!” Esther pleaded from inside the hover.
Ryck opened the driver’s door to get in when the sergeant major ended his spiel with a shout of “Fuzos!”