Recruit by Jonathan Brazee (the best ebook reader for android .txt) 📕
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As the band finished, the adjutant marched out to the center and read the citation. Each year, the commandant sent out his message, and each year, it was read out at pageants and mess nights. Ryck tuned it out.
With the formalities over, the pageant itself could begin. The spectators sat down, the Parade of Marines led it off. This was Ninth Marines, so the three Marines dressed in the uniforms of the Thai, Philippines, and Indonesian Marines were the first to march by. Ryck was surprised to see that it was Sams, Lance Corporal Samuelson now, in the Philippines Marines uniform. Sams had been busted to private only a year before, but he was already back up to lance corporal and the new fair-haired child of the company. Sams and Ryck had two of the four Battle Citation 3s awarded for actions on the Robin, but then Sams had gone and earned a BC1 fighting the Kingdom of Morenvia. The so-called King had declared sovereignty for the island nation of Lesia on Glorywall. The only problem was that the people of Lesia had no intention of letting some outsider in, and “Merlin the First” had taken over 500 children hostage to ensure the cooperation of the people. Two Marine companies had gone in to secure the situation. Against only 30-40 “royal militia,” it should have been and was a cakewalk. Despite this, Sams had managed to distinguish himself in the rescue of the kids, from all reports saving their lives. From women on Atacama to prisoners on the Robin to children on Glorywall, Sams seemed to have a thing for the civilians.
He was grinning ear-to-ear as he marched down in review, smartly saluting the CO as he passed. Following the three positions of honor, Marines marched by in period uniforms for each of the other corps that had made up the Federation Marines. As tradition dictated, once all the corps had marched by, the Federation colors, followed by the Marine Corps colors, passed in review. Everyone came to their feet and saluted again. Then, the mass of Marines started to march. A couple of companies were missing due to operational commitments, but it was still impressive. Ryck hadn’t wanted to come, but he felt the pride stir within him. This was a pretty potent force.
After the infantry came the armor, artillery, transport, engineers, and the rest. Recon put on a good show. They had flown up on their one-man scoots in full stealth mode. One moment, the area in front of the CO was empty. A moment later, in unison, the recon company appeared, 15 meters in the air. The crowd broke out into applause.
The reception was even better for the air pass-over. First came the Marine air. The six Storks attached to the regiment did a flyover, followed by the Hummingbird aerial recon team. A big Navy planetary transport flew by, low and slow, looking huge. The Marine Wasps drew the oohs and aahs, looking sleek and deadly. But it was the Navy Experion fighters that caused the crowd to break out in applause again. The deadly dual space and planetary fighters were impressive, to say the least. The entire pageant took over an hour, with the band, the adjutant, the sergeant major, and the CO standing at attention, never moving except for the CO when he returned a salute. To Ryck, that was more impressive than anything else.
“Well, another pageant come and gone,” CWO4 Heng said.
“How many of them have you seen?” Ryck asked.
“Too many to count,” was the simple reply. “You going down there to say hello to your bros?”
Ryck looked to the right where all the equipment had been set up as static displays and Marines and civilians were already milling about.
“No, sir, I don’t think so. I might need a little extra time to get ready for the mess night, so I think I’m heading back to the barracks.”
“OK, but make sure you are there on time. You know how that is,” the chief warrant officer said.
“No problem, sir. I’ll be there.”
Ryck made his way out of the bleachers. He said hello to Jonas and a few of the other gen hens, then quietly slipped away. He just didn’t feel up to mixing with the able-bodied Marines.
Chapter 23
There wasn’t a facility large enough for a full regimental mess night, so the battalions had broken off to have their own. Second Battalion had rented out the Raging River Mövenpick Resort, some 50 km outside of Rostov and Camp Kolesnikov. It was out in the middle of nowhere, but that was probably all for the best.
Ryck looked across the ballroom at the gathering Marines. Despite himself, he started feeling the esprit de corps he’d felt was missing since his injury. For some reason, he almost wanted to hold onto his feeling of isolation, but he knew that was crazy. He had to just let go and enjoy himself.
“Look, there’s Captain dela Grosso,” Troy Simmons said, pointing to the battalion’s most decorated Marine. The captain had two Navy Crosses, one of only two Marines on active duty to be so distinguished. One of those should have been a Federation Nova, most Marines thought, but still, two Navy Crosses was nothing to sneeze at.
“He’s sure got a shitload of hangers,” Ryck said to Troy, watching the captain make his way to his seat.
Troy was a sergeant, but among the gen hens, ranks had a tendency to fade, and first name use between ranks was pretty common.
“Yeah, him and your good buddy, Heng,” Troy said. “He’s got more hangers than anyone, just no Navy Crosses.”
Ryck looked over next to the bar where CWO4 Heng was standing. Troy was right. Heng had to have at least 25 hangers on his chest. Ryck looked down at his own chest. He had three. There was his Combat Mission Medal with a bronze star, his Purple Heart, and his Battle Commendation Third Class. Some of the long-time Marines had upwards of 10 or 15 hangers, but still, Ryck had more than most of the non-rates.
“Recruit Lysander! Get down and give me 20” a gravelly, unforgettable voice rang out from just in back of him.
Ryck spun around to see King Tong standing there, a grin on his face. Ryck couldn’t have been more surprised had an elephant walked into the room. His heart fell.
“I, uh, I can’t really, I mean, my arm!” he protested.
“Relax, Lysander! I’m just messing with you,” Sergeant Phantawisangtong said. “So how’ve you been doing? I mean, I can see you took some shit, but the word is that you’ve been doing yourself proud.”
Ryck subconsciously covered the regen chamber on this right arm with his left hand and said, “I don’t know. I guess so, but really, it was no big deal.”
“That’s not the word on the street,” King Tong said.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s a certified ass-kicker,” Troy said, holding out his hand and introducing himself. “Troy Simmons.”
“Hector Phantawisangtong, or as Lysander here will tell you, they sometimes call me ‘King Tong.’”
“So, what are you doing here?” Ryck asked, trying to change the subject from the King Tong nickname.
“Since this is a mess night for 2/9, I guess that means I’ve been transferred here.”
Just then, the bugler played the call to order. The Guest of Honor must have just arrived. Marines started to move to the main ballroom where the mess night would be held. King Tong made his apologies and went his own way while Ryck followed the other gen hens to a table close to the front entrance to the ballroom where they would be sitting. Three Marines in their hospital gurneys were already there, waiting for them, as well as those in wheelchairs. Ryck took the first empty seat, next to Jonas, who was at the table in his wheelchair.
There was minimal milling about as the Marines and sailors took their seats. When the CO, who was the president of the mess, called the mess to attention, eyes craned to see the guest of honor.
“Battalion, I present Corporal Lek Gutterheim, veteran of the War of the Far Reaches!”
All the members of the mess applauded as the frail old man, on the arm of the sergeant major, entered the mess. He was bent at the back, but his head was held high, his eyes blazing with pride.
The adjutant’s voice rang out as the three made their way to the head table, “Corporal Lek Gutterheim enlisted in the Marines on February 3, 256, Standard Accounting. His first duty station was with the Alpha Company, First Battalion, Sixth Marines, Second Marine Division. He participated in three operations, rising to the rank of lance corporal, and was a fire team leader at the outbreak of the war. During the conflict, he made two opposed landings, on G-12 and Felicity. He was promoted to the rank of corporal, and after the surrender of the CALCON forces, served out the remainder of his enlistment. He returned to his home here on Alexander where he married his wife Anna, and had four children: Paul, Sarah, Allison, and Horace. Horace served 30 years in the Federation Navy, reaching a rank of master chief.”
More applause sounded as the head party took their seats. The War of the First Reach had been a full-scale, ship-on-ship, opposed-landing war, not like the skirmishes and police actions since then. Entire fleets had been wiped out. Very few vets from the war were still around, and it was a privilege to have Corporal Gutterheim as their guest of honor.
Once the head party was in place, the bugler stepped forward, along with the mess butler, and called forth the beating. A palpable sense of anticipation arose among the mess. It started with a lone beat of the drum outside the ballroom. A single drummer
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