For Love or Country

by Jesse Jordan

  I look at her desk, there’s an uncapped bottle of rubbing alcohol, and I shake my head again. “First off, putting rubbing alcohol on something like this is just asking for torture. Even I'm not that hard core. You got any peroxide?”

  She shakes her head, her body still trembling from the pain she’s in. “Okay, well, it doesn't matter for now, the nerves are fried. Still, use peroxide instead. If you forget to pick up any, stop by my room and get some. However, in the future, you stop before you get to this point.”

  Carlyle growls lightly as she shakes her head once more, this time looking up at me. “I won't stop, sir. Cadet Lawton made it look easy today.”

  I laugh softly, and look around. “Mind if I take a seat? It's your room, you know.”

  “Go ahead, sir. Billie... I mean, Cadet De Soto won't mind. She’s gone for a basketball game.”

  I grab De Soto's chair and sit down, and look at Carlyle, who's getting back under control. I've had alcohol poured in a cut, it does suck big time. “Carlyle, let me fill you in on Cadet Lawton. She's one of the better female athletes in the company, and today she smoked everything. But Sandhurst isn't done in Hayes Gym, it's done on the ranges and hills around post. And there... well, let's just say that she fell out of both the march back from Frederick and Buckner, and she’s struggled in the field. Some people are great in the clean zone, and some can keep it going when there's dirt under their fingernails. Me personally, I asked you because I think you're the second type. You showed me that today, and you're showing it to me now. I had no idea you were hurting all during practice.”

  “I... I don't want you to think I can't hack it, sir. I know they talk about motivation a lot around here, and so much of it's crap, but you've always treated me square. No looking down, and none of the sexual harassment crap that it seems is dosed out around here to every female cadet. You just... you're real.”

  It's touching, and I can't help it, I smile again. Real? Yeah, well Carlyle, maybe after Recognition I’ll show you just how real I can be. “Well, we've got a long way to go to Sandhurst, Carlyle. In the meantime, put the alcohol away, and I'll bring down some ibuprofen pills that I've got in my room. They're the Ranger Candy type, 600 milligrams that the docs gave me last semester. So only one for you, got it?”

  “Simon, can you follow me?” Major Campos says, a strange look on his face. The winter's starting to let go, although now instead of cold it's also rainy. That’s just as bad, especially with the competition coming up so soon. “I just got some difficult news, son.”

  “What's that, sir?” I ask, confused. “Did I screw up something?”

  The Major shakes his head, and takes a deep breath. “No, not at all. Actually, I think you and Mike Price have been doing a great job with the Sandhurst team, we may just get bragging rights. But that's beside the point. I got a phone call while you were in class... son, your father was in a car accident. He's.... he didn't make it. I'm sorry.”

  The news hits me like a punch in the chest, and I sit, looking at Major Campos like he's an alien from another planet, not understanding a thing he's saying as he continues. Finally, I find some words. “Dad's dead?”

  “Yes, Simon,” Major Campos says, his eyes full of concern. “Now, I've already talked with my higher ups, and your leave is already approved. You'll be flying out of Newark and expected back next Tuesday.”

  “Tuesday? No way, sir.”

  “Simon, your father just died. Don't you think....” the Major says, but I cut him off.

  “Sir, the Sandhurst competition is this weekend. And Dad and I, we had an understanding. Me leaving home meant I was leaving home. He... he'd want me here, with my team, doing the competition with my brothers and sisters in the Ironside, not standing next to some grave in Colorado in my dress gray and watching as that bitch who gave birth to me pretends to cry as he's lowered into the ground. So with all due respect, sir... I'm not going on leave.”

  The Major gives me a look, then nods. “Your choice, son. Still, you're excused from all military duties for the rest of the week, formations included. If you want run Sandhurst on Saturday, that's totally your choice. But I'd advise you to take some time and grieve, or at least think. It helps.”

  I get up, and nod. “Thank you, sir. I'll do that. Uh, I'd prefer if the company didn't know about this, sir. At least, as much as possible. I don't need the sympathy.”

  Major Campos agrees, and I leave his office, going back to my room. I sort of space out, skipping the afternoon formation to just watch out my window as the rain stops and the sun goes down. When the cold starts to creep in through my window, I change into warm PT gear, and sit back down, trying to think of something to do. I skip dinner, not feeling hungry at all, and my thoughts are interrupted only when I hear a soft knock on my door. “Sir?”

  I turn around and see Carlyle standing there, also in her PTs. In the eight weeks of train up for Sandhurst, she's never let me down, and I already talked with Mike about it, she's going to be our female team member come Saturday. She deserves it, honestly. “Hey Carlyle. Need something?”

  “No sir,” she says, coming in and setting a protein bar on my desk. “But you missed dinner. My Dad sent this in a care package, and I thought you could enjoy it. I hate peanut butter protein bars.”

  I pick it up, and look at the wrapper. Nice brand, they're pretty expensive. “So I guess the whole company knows?”

  “Not really, sir. I heard it because Major Campos was standing behind me talking to Sergeant Hardwick. I've got really good hearing. But no, no public announcement. I just... I guess I should go.”

  Carlyle turns, and I sit up, raising a hand. “Wait, Carlyle. If you don't mind, I could use a chance to share some of this with someone who's willing to listen. I actually got some snacks of my own in my desk here, you mind splitting a can of honey roasted peanuts with me?”

  Carlyle thinks for a moment, then grabs my roomie's chair and sits down. I open the protein bar and cut it into quarters with my scissors, setting it on a sheet of printer paper before popping the lid and seal on the peanuts. “Thanks, sir. So you're not taking leave?”

  “No, this is my family now,” I tell her, munching on a peanut. “This company, the people in Sandhurst, you guys are my family now. Now that Dad's gone, I won't let my family down.”

  “I didn't know you lost both of your parents,” Carlyle says, taking a peanut and munching. “What happened?”

  I sigh, and rub at my face. “You asked me, way back long ago it seems, how I got this scar. Remember?”

  “I do. You said I had to get a little more street cred with you to be able to get that story. Do I have it yet?”

  Still so feisty, no wonder she turns me on. “You do. And keep this in between your ears, okay? Not too many folks around here know the story of Simon Lancaster and his half a Glasgow smile.”

  Carlyle winces, but takes another peanut. “I thought that's what it was. I knew a guy back in school in Washington that had a full one, he got it from messing with the wrong gang in his neighborhood. You?”

  “My mother,” I say simply, and Carlyle drops the peanut that's in her hand. It clatters on my desk, where it sits, totally forgotten. “When I was seven, she said I had a smart mouth, so she was going to take care of it for me. She took the kitchen scissors from the block in the kitchen and shoved them in my mouth. I thought she was just threatening me, she made a lot of threats to me growing up. Called me a lot of things that…. Anyway, when she stuck the scissors in my mouth, I thought she was just fucking around, so I didn't punch or kick her, I knew that'd just get me a beating from her that was even worse. Then... she closed the scissors by using both hands, and I had my half smile. I ran into the night, screaming so loud the neighbors took me in and got me to the hospital.”

  “What… what happened to her?” Carlyle asks, and I shake my head. “What?”

  “She claimed when the cops got there that I did it to myself, and the cops believed her. My mother always had a very persu
asive personality, she's somehow convinced man after man, including my father, that she is a worthwhile person. It's another reason I won't go to his funeral. I know that Dad's will states she gets two thirds. I'll get a little, I'm putting it into trust, I don't need it… but yeah, that's my mother. Good ol' Brenda Lancaster.” I take a chunk of the protein bar, and pop it into my mouth, chewing. “Say, this is pretty good. Thank your Dad. To answer your unasked question Carlyle, yes, during Spring Break I'm going to go and visit the grave site. I'll talk with the lawyer, stuff like that. But until then, I'm going to focus on Saturday.”

  Carlyle takes a piece of the protein bar and chews it herself, then swallows. “All right then, sir. Let's get through the rest of the week, and we can kick some ass on Saturday.”

  Ashley

  I'm feeling strange, dressed in my full dress uniform. Up until now, I've only worn it for parades and uniform inspections, but tonight is different. The night air is warmer than it's been in months, and I can't help but have my fingers tremble a little as I try to fix my collar.

  “You ready, Ash?” Billie De Soto, my roomie, asks. She's tall, nearly six foot two, and towers over even a lot of the guys. We don't get along as well as Tammy and I did, but she's okay. “Ready to get your name back?”

  I laugh, and pull on my white cotton gloves. “Yeah, let's do it.”

  Out in the hallway, the platoon that's been tasked with calling minutes fires up, calling a ten minute warning for dinner formation. I give Billie a fist bump and we book it out of our room, knowing what's coming.

  It's the last chance for the upperclassmen to get a little bit of hazing in, but there's a different feeling to it, tonight. For most of the upperclassmen, it's a ritual, sort of a last bit of a rub before we get recognized.

  We reach the formation area and fall in, standing at attention as the upperclassmen circle, playfully sniffing the water. There's a few already talking with the Plebes, asking them knowledge and generally harassing them. The Plebes are giving it back too, in our own way. Cadet Price, it's going to be good to refer to him as Mike since Tammy has the same last name, comes over, a toothy grin on his face. “Carlyle!”

  “Sir!”

  “Start The Corps!”

  I decide to give him a little bit of sass, I think I've earned it. After all, I-1 took top honors among the Corps of Cadets for the Sandhurst Competition, and second overall, losing only to the RMC Sandhurst Red team. “Da da da, dadadadada.... Sir, the Corps’ out of gas!”

  Cadet Price steps close until we're nearly nose to nose, his smile dropping but still with a twinkle in his eye. “Are you trying to be funny, Carlyle?”

  “No sir!”

  “Are you a comedienne, Carlyle?”

  “No sir!”

  Price hums, then shakes his head in mock exasperation. “All right. So tell me, what was your favorite part of Sandhurst?”

  “Sir, the rappeling. It's kinda fun, sir.”

  Price grins, nodding. “You helped give me a hell of a send off from Sandhurst, Carlyle. Thank you.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  From the corner of my eye, I see Tammy talking with Cadet King, and I wonder just how fast Tammy's pulse is going right now. King kind of took Tammy under her wing during submission grappling, and now she's definitely mother henning Tammy, keeping her busy with just enough hazing that she looks like she's being harassed and away from the other upperclassmen who have a bad opinion of her. I'm glad. I don't know if she's still got a crush on King, maybe she does by the way we talk sometimes, but it's good she's got a mentor at least.

  “Fall in!” the current First Sergeant calls, and we go through formation, everything normal until the First Sergeant calls for all the Plebes to come forth and be recognized. We form up in a long line, and starting with Major Campos, who's out here in his dress blues tonight, we shake hands, giving them our first names and them giving theirs to us. From this moment on, we're not just 'smacks,' or 'Plebes,' or any other of the nicknames they've given us. I'm Ashley again.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Cadet Lancaster, and my heart speeds up a little. During the Sandhurst run, he was the man, nobody able to tell that he's going through what he's going through. From what I can tell, other than his roommate, and he doesn't have the full story, nobody else in the company knows.

  “Congratulations, Carlyle,” he says, offering his hand. We shake, and I swear there's a spark that jumps between us, maybe I've just had him as a playtime fantasy for too long and I need to find some celebrity to rub one out over. “Simon Lancaster.”

  “Ashley Carlyle, and thanks.” There isn't time for much more, he's got to move on to the next Plebe and the next Plebe. Of the thirty one that started academic year, we've still got twenty nine, two guys quitting to transfer to civilian schools after one semester.

  Dinner isn't all that great, the mess hall staff at West Point is not Michelin starred. Still, it's good. The biggest part is the fact that for the first time, I feel like the meal actually is, as the Academy advertises, family style. For the first time, I can laugh and joke with everyone else. The past nine months aren’t forgotten but still there's a sense of bonding there that wasn't there before. I'm even surprised when Cadet Mitchell, who I haven't seen since Beast, comes around from wherever she sits during the rest of the year and offers her hand. “Congrats, Carlyle. Veronica Mitchell.”

  “Ashley. Or Ash, I don't mind that.”

  “Groovy,” Mitchell says, and I laugh. It's an old joke, but hey, it's been a long time and I kinda like it again. “Where's Price?”

  “Tammy's three tables up,” I tell her, pointing. Veronica nods and goes over, shaking hands with Tammy and all the other Plebes that she used to command when we were new cadets.

  Dinner runs long, but it's mostly a celebration atmosphere, so nobody really minds, and besides, the desserts of fresh cherry pies with ice cream are pretty damn awesome. They even sent two to every table, so instead of getting a tiny little wedge, I'm able to eat a whole quarter of a pie.

  After dinner, a lot of the cadets indulge in another old tradition, sharing a cigar. That's not my thing, so I head upstairs, shucking my full dress and instead doing my own little indulgence, wearing my PT t-shirt along with my long pants instead of just the shorts. Ah... the life of a semi-normal person.

  “Yo Ashley, how you doin'?” Cade Edwards asks, sticking his head in the door. He's got his full dress still on, although it's half unbuttoned and he reeks of cigar smoke. “Enjoying recognized life?”

  “Pretty much,” I answer, trying to be polite. After that first study session, when I realized he was trying to make a move on me more than anything else, I paid attention, and came to realize that Cade's just not all that smart. “Thanks for coming by.”

  “No sweat, beautiful. Listen, I was kinda wonderin', you know when we get back from Spring Break and all, if maybe you'd like to catch a pizza at Grant Hall or something?”

  A date? Jesus, I've turned him down twice for further study sessions, and now he's asking for a date? “I don't know, Cade. No offense, just... not all that interested. I mean, I appreciate your offer, but I'll have to say no.”

  Cade doesn't look happy, but he accepts it. “Fine. I'll see ya in class tomorrow. Good luck on the test.”

  “Dix minutes de la fin, les cadets."

  I look up quickly, and yep, there's ten minutes to go. Thankfully the few questions I have left are all simple word translations, on the test simply to give folks a chance to pad their scores. The Department of Foreign Languages does understand that most of us don't really give a damn about French, it’s just a requirement.

  I see something that catches my eye, and I look at Cade, who's looking down in his lap, his hands under the edge of his desk. It's just weird, and when he takes his hand out a moment later, he writes down an answer before he does it again, then again. What the hell?

  The Captain warns us again, and I quickly finish the last four questions on my test, and take a moment to r
eview my answers as time wraps up. I'm feeling pretty good, but still seeing Cade on his test gives me some questions. After the end of class, I look, and see what looks like a watch on his left wrist, but it's got a big face, like maybe a smart watch? I'm troubled, but before I can say anything to Cade, he's out the door, another strange thing from him.

  I know what the Honor Code says, that I'm supposed to talk with Cade first if possible. But... he's still a Cow. I've been recognized for a total of fourteen hours, and I turned him down for a date last night to boot. I don't want to, but I need to talk with the instructor. “Sir? Sir, do you have a moment?”

  “Miss Carlyle?” the Captain replies, stopping the gathering his papers. “What can I do for you?”

  “Sir... I'm not sure, but I think I may have seen Cadet Edwards cheating on his test,” I say, feeling every word. I can't take this back, not with Honor. Still, it's the right damn thing to do. “In the last ten minutes, I saw him with his hands under his desk twice, then take his right hand out to write an answer. After class, before he left, it looked like he was wearing a large faced watch, like a smart watch or something.”

  The Captain hums, then nods. “Okay. Thank you, Miss Carlyle. I know this is not an easy thing to say. I shall look into it, and take care of it. I appreciate it. Good day.”

  I leave, heading back to my room, where I find Tammy sitting on my footlocker, grinning. “What are you so happy about?”

  “She... she said she wants to be my friend too,” Tammy says, blushing and grinning. “You know, Cara.”

  “Cara King?” I ask, grinning. “Really?”

  “Yeah,” Tammy says, still starstruck. “After Recognition, she said she wanted to tell me she was impressed by my guts in sub grappling, and she kinda asked if I'd like to train more with her. I e-mailed her back, and she invited me to go on a run this afternoon, intervals up the hill from Arvin to Michie. She wants to talk training for me for the rest of the semester and Buckner before she jets off on Spring Break.”