previously:

They take everything and clean up the lab. The instructors remove the maps and fold them for inclusion in the bags. We have three bags of trash to be burned.

The students are dismissed for supper and the burn bags are taken down to the incinerator. The instructors and I make our way out of the school, chatting about the students and the confusion which momentarily surfaced each time something unexpected arrived. We alter tomorrow’s group assignments and separate. This first day of the third week is something the students are unlikely to forget.

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Admin Note: Originally published on BigCloset TopShelf by T D Aldoennetti on Mon, 2008/11/10 - 3:01am., Air Force Sweetheart -- TacPzlSolGp Chapter 22 is revised and reposted on Thu, 2009/12/24 - 01:53 PM. ~Sephrena

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Teaching, lesson plans, HELP!!!:

 

Chapter 22

 

I return to my room and put the folders and my notepad under my pillow so I can examine them when I return from supper. After washing up, I lie back to rest for a few minutes. Later, I hear people talking as they pass by my door and look at the clock. Supper has begun, so I’m up and on my way to the mess hall. I’m exhausted… and the students are the ones who did all the work. I may have a touch of the flu, as I feel just a bit feverish and am having slight discomfort in my abdomen. I don’t have any specific complaint, just general discomfort. Supper has a pleasant surprise in store, in the form of one of those delicious quick cakes for dessert. I’m tempted by the thought of trying to obtain a second, but dismiss it in favor of maintaining my girlish figure. It’s tempting though, what would just this once hurt?

I restrain myself admirably and finish supper, well-prepared to protect my solitary quick cake with all the vigor I can muster. When I finish supper, I reward myself with the tasty confection, savoring each and every bite.

As I walk back to the BOQ, I hear someone calling, “Ma’am? Ma’am?”

I stop and turn to see the Specialist hurrying up to me. She salutes me, despite my being in civilian clothes, so I return it and remind her.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“It’s your nickel, Specialist. You called me.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I, that is we, some of the other students and I, well we wanted to say ‘thanks.’ I mean about the exercise today. We learned a lot. You make it fun while requiring us to keep our wits about us. It’s nice to be treated like we know how to make decisions and to be given the chance to make those decisions. You’re letting us discover things and learn to pay attention to all the information we encounter, so that isolated intelligence failures don’t threaten the lives of the people who depend on our decisions. We just wanted to let you know that we appreciate it.”

“Pass the word to them. Say thank you but, ‘you ain’t seen nuttun’ yet.’” I smile at her, my fingers raised and curling, to emphasize the quotes before and after my informal warning.

For a brief moment she’s taken aback, and then her eyes sparkle. “YES, Ma’am.” She gives me another salute, which I return, and off she goes with her message.

The next day proceeds in a similar manner and again requests for information and photo recon updates pass by me. The first thing requested just minutes after the start of the exercise were maps. They learn quickly. The surprises change a little, both in timing and in nature. Moment’s after I receive the request for photo recon updates for a specific region, I have a call back from our support staff that we have nothing in the prepared file to permit it. I wait fifteen minutes and send the message back down that the photo-recon aircraft was shot down, preventing us from updating the images for that region.

This is not taken well but, in the nature of the exercise, they understand that the unexpected is likely to happen every now and then. What they don’t do, however, will be a ‘teaching moment’ later.

I make a note in my daily log that the group responsible for the photo reports failed to notify the intelligence group of the loss of the aircraft, which is valuable intelligence in its own right, and which might have been important to the final report prepared by that group. Just one more thing to talk about Friday and Saturday.

Wednesday and Thursday are just as exciting for them and by the end of the day Thursday they are wondering what surprises I will have for them Friday morning.

-o~O~o-

Well, here it is….

“Last Friday one of you happened to mention the desire for ‘real Intel’ from a ‘current conflict’ to give you a taste of reality. Remember the old adage, ‘Be careful what you wish for. You might get it.’ You will, and soon. Today and tomorrow we’re going to critique the work done these past four days. This morning, we’ll deal with last Monday’s work. I have a few notes,” I tell them, as I hold up about ten pages concerning that exercise, “regarding decisions and communications which were made, or not made, during that exercise, both good and bad. Let’s start with….”

-o~O~o-

By the time lunch rolls around, each group has had its turn on the hot seat. Each decision was discussed in detail, and everyone was allowed the chance to participate and comment on ways to improve the result. We break for lunch with the promise of dissecting Tuesday’s effort this afternoon, beginning immediately after lunch.

-o~O~o-

We finish the critiques of the four exercises Saturday afternoon, with everyone heavily involved. The instructors are thoroughly enjoying the exercises and my method of teaching. The students feel like they are actually doing something real rather than text book exercises. This past week has been concerned with something which is happening now, almost in real time, and they get to see where they’ve made nearly the same decisions as those which had been made by Command during that portion of the conflict.

The Wednesday group had mentioned a 40% possibility of a specific enemy incursion at a specific location and date. In reality we did not prepare for that incursion but it did occur. This little group saw it and noted it. If that information had been made available to Command by their Intel group, we might not have suffered the losses we did. Had our report been seen and acted upon, the outcome might have changed, although with only a 40% assessment level assigned, it was unlikely to have been acted on. Again, I’m very proud of the work my students are doing.

-o~O~o-

Monday of the fourth week rears its ugly head and we’re in the lecture hall. I now spend several days in lecture with slides of imagery and documentation, whether excellent or clearly inadequate, to support my points. Both successes and failures have their own lessons to teach us.

The need for assessment confidence attached to each potential action is becoming paramount. The requirement of multiple actions being presented in one report is stressed, with a percentile attached to each option, and a synopsis of the retaliatory actions the enemy might take in response. The time and place of those likely actions are to be included whenever and wherever possible.

In other words, we are fleshing out our reports to include potential enemy responses. Thursday and Friday are spent practicing what they’ve been taught during the previous three days.

“You have had the opportunity to try to think like the enemy with varied degrees of success. This is to be expected. Monday, you will all meet in the lab again.”

“We will once again be divided into the same groups and will commence a new round of exercises. Perhaps many of you have heard of Hell Week? Well, we’re about to have the first of two of them, back to back.”

My news isn’t all bad though. “I’ve authorized 48 hour passes commencing this evening at 1800 and ending Sunday at 1800. Relax for the weekend.”

As the class starts gathering their things together, I say, “Specialist Delheim, may I see you for a moment before you leave? Okay, everyone, Dismissed.”

They pile out, conversation at a dull roar, and my Specialist comes down the aisle to the lectern.

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“I know you have no duty this evening. Would you like to go into town and take in a concert? The first one is tonight.”

“YES, Ma’am.”

“I thought you might. Do you happen to know of two others who might like to go? It would seem that I have four tickets which have somehow found their way into my purse. Strangely enough, they’re all for tonight, seated together, and not too far from the orchestra.”

“I think so. If I hurry, I may be able to catch them and ask. Thank you, Ma’am.”

I flash, ‘you’re welcome’ at her and she starts a moment, smiles and flashes back, ‘I can’t wait.’”

She is rushing toward the doors when, “Oh! If you have civilian clothing, it is authorized you know. All of you meet me at the BOQ at 1830 and we’ll ride in together.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” she calls back as she rushes down the hallway.

That evening, I finish supper quickly and return to the BOQ. A little preparation and then I’m out to the lobby where I discover my Specialist and two other young ladies waiting. I don’t recognize either of them, so they must be from other classes. Karen introduces us, and at 1835 the car pulls up. We enjoy our ride into town and enter the theater in style. We show our tickets as we walk into the lobby, and are directed to our seats by a woman stationed by an inner door.

A car is scheduled to return and wait for us, beginning at 2130. The concert may go as late as 2200, according to the box office.

The concert was enjoyable and one of the few diversions I’ve had time to arrange so far. We all work our way out through the madding crowd and begin to look for our ride. Somehow, in this sea of humanity, Karen spots a Sergeant in uniform and surmises that our ride is in that direction. We go check, and soon are on our way back to the base.

The car drops us off at the BOQ and the girls thank me as they hold onto their programs like precious keepsakes. I remind Karen of the time limit on her pass, if she wants to go out again, and the four of us part company, they off to their barracks, and I for my room at the BOQ.

-o~O~o-

Monday, the start of our first Hell Week, has arrived all too quickly, and everyone is in the lab at their positions waiting for any pearls of wisdom I might manage to impart prior to our start.

“This week will be considerably different than our last time at this. The information is less than one day old. Updates may be requested, but are unlikely to be fulfilled because it’s past nightfall there. You will note that the folders are RED. That’s because this is NOT, I repeat, NOT, a theoretical exercise. This is REALITY in capital letters. This information IS Top Secret – No Forn, and that means that this intelligence, and the fact that it is present in this room, is NOT to be discussed anywhere outside this room and all the provisions of the Uniform Code of Military Justice apply. Do I make myself understood?”

I receive no replies, but a lot of puzzled looks. Maybe our simulations of reality have inured them to cries of ‘Wolf!’

“Perhaps you don’t understand. This material was actually forwarded electronically from Vietnam during the past 24 hours. It has been prepared especially for our use, and any recommendations we come up with during the two lab sessions today will be returned electronically to Command in Saigon for their attention and possible action. Perhaps now you understand?”

This time a subdued chorus of “Yes, Ma’am,” greets me as the students look around at each other and at the folders, which have suddenly taken on the look of a trainload of dynamite with fuses burning, so far as these students are concerned.

There is no question that there will be an explosion, the only question is when and where.

One of them gathers the courage to speak up. “Excuse me, Ma’am. Is this for real, or is it just part of the exercise?”

A host of expectant faces look at me.

“Mister Thompson, let me put it this way. Let us hope that none of you make a serious mistake in dealing with this material because YES, it is for real, and YES, it will be forwarded as quickly as possible to Saigon. Now, are there any other questions?”

I look around the room. “None? All right, we have real work to do. The instructors and I are available for conference at any time during your work. Other than that, we are sitting this one out. It is up to the thirty-two of you to arrange your task loads, perform your analysis, make your recommendations, and prepare a final report which will include everything you’ve learned in the past weeks. This information will be sent, with status ‘Immediate’, back to Saigon within half an hour of its completion. Now we get to see how good you really are. There are lives out there that need protecting, so get to work.”

It takes them nearly ten seconds to start moving. After the first five, Karen is screaming at them to begin. In less than a minute they have placed her in charge of today’s effort and she looks at me embarrassed, ‘I didn’t want this.’

I look at her with, ‘You can handle it, get them moving.’ I say, “Specialist Delheim, you are acting Major Delheim for today’s work.”

She looks at me, as does everyone else, then the others smile. She goes pale, shakes her head and begins to handle it. She is in the process of assigning tasks when some of the other students ask if they may perform specific tasks. They feel they are better at some aspects than they are at others, and would like to work where they can provide their best efforts to the group. This continues for over half the students, then Karen begins to fill the ‘holes’ with those she has remaining. I watch her make more notations on her paper pad as she admonishes everyone, “Okay, let’s get moving. There are lives to save.”

I call down and ask if we can obtain a set of student’s Major’s insignia and similar sets for four Captains. They say they’ll see what they can do.

Half an hour later, I give Karen and her ‘Captains’ their acting officer’s insignia.

“This won’t get you into officer’s mess but it’s effective until end of class today. You may all wear these when you break for lunch.”

They all salute and everyone is back at work. Now and again, the instructors and I are called upon upon to offer our expertise to the students. Everything is locked up for lunch, but we are all right back at it almost instantly after the hour. 1600 comes and goes and everyone is still deep into it. One area of concern is floating around and the promoter of it has a valid argument. I call over my Major and suggest that it be included as a potential enemy retaliation as a result of our proposed primary moves. Confidence is high.

1700 is almost upon us and I ask if they want to break for supper now, and then come back to complete the work. The report must go out by 1900. They decide upon a half hour for supper which offers them one more hour to complete their work with a half hour to spare.

As they all rush out, I also tell the instructors to go, “I’ll take my supper once you’ve returned. Meanwhile, I’m here and the materials can remain out, which will save valuable time.”

They hurry out also. I lock the doors and walk around, glancing here and there at the analyses which have been generated thus far. It’s very impressive. Some of it is brilliant. I see the hands of about a third of my best students in the deductions I see while reading but, so far, the overall information is better than any single individual, reflecting the multiple contributions to the whole.

They’re actually taking the special skills which everyone has to contribute into account. Excellent teamwork. Continuing my checks, I find three additional viewpoints, one of which is opposed to the mainstream view. I don’t recognize the possible originator of this contribution from the writing style, but the logic is excellent. Perhaps this is the work of two or three individuals.

I hear a knocking at one of the doors and realize the half hour is nearly over, two of my students want back in. I unlock the doors and they enter, rushing to the papers and going right back to work. Others straggle in during the next few minutes and immediately go back to whatever they left waiting. I look into the hall and notice Karen and her Captains in quiet conference. I leave them to it. All of the students have returned in less than the thirty minutes they allotted for themselves.

They’re taking this exercise very seriously. A few minutes later, the officers enter the room and are immediately besieged by the others, who have questions or comments which need to be considered for possible inclusion or reassessment of the original draft of conclusions.

The work continues and I leave for supper a few minutes before 1800, since the instructors are back to offer assistance if needed. This gives me the chance to arrive at the second mess just as they open, allowing me to finish supper quickly so I can return without great delay. Rushing through supper, I hurry back to my think tank. As I walk in, I note that something has changed. I motion to Major Delheim who rushes over.

“What’s going on? What happened while I was gone?”

“We just received more Intel and we are trying to integrate it. It isn’t a pretty picture.”

“Show me.”

She does and I agree. This information is about as welcome as a pack of sharks in the midst of a school of mackerel.

It makes a tremendous impact upon the previous work, the promoters of the opposition viewpoint have been proven to be correct, even before we had a chance to warn anyone. I suggest that Karen talk with them, to see which way they think it could now turn.

She walks over to the those who proffered the opposing papers and asks the originators of the viewpoint, which has now been proven to be correct, if they might provide an update to the others of the team at the table where they are working. They suggest a rapid evacuation from the surrounding area, with a pause and sudden pincer attack to follow, as the withdrawal goes down the center, hopefully followed by the enemy. That will draw more enemy toward that area and away from any other objectives they may have, which will afford our forces perhaps five or six hours to regroup. “It’s a basic tactical concept, but not usually applied over this broad a scale.”

Their concept is sent to Saigon without waiting for the primary report completion.

Now we are on the defensive. Some students disagree and suggest instead a strong offense just now might be the more appropriate thing to do. They flesh out their report and I rapidly review it. It’s a bold move, but may actually work. I suggest that this be designated our final report to Saigon, which will give them enough to work with to keep them occupied for a few hours and allow us to leave earlier than anticipated. Now I frighten them all half to death, the signature line….

It reads: Major Karen Delheim, OIC, acting TacPzlSolGp Dallas, TX.

Karen looks like she is about to faint, many of the other students are looking ill.

“That was good work, ladies and gentlemen. Do you think you can do it again tomorrow?” I ask them cheerfully.

I receive blank stares from no less than half of the students. The drain of the work has taken all their energy and left husks in its place. A half dozen look like they wish they could cry, and seem concerned that the report may not be acted upon in time. A few seem wildly enthusiastic, anticipating the defeat of the enemy’s advance and anxious for more information with which to work.

All the working materials are collected, so they and our copy of the report can be locked up. The students have now had a few minutes to begin to relax and look exhausted. Exhilarated, but exhausted.

A couple of questions come up.

“Ma’am, Do you think they will act on our information?”

“Ma’am, What is TacPzlSolGp? I get the Gp part which is group and Tac is probably Tactics or Tactical but what’s the rest?”

“TacPzlSolGp is the Tactical Puzzle Solutions Group. As for whether they will act on our information, we won’t know until we come in tomorrow. If they do, then it will have been the first under fire report for all of you. Good work. Go on and get some sleep. I know it will be difficult, but you need to rest as best you can. It will become easier the more often you do it.”

Another question, “Ma’am, what’s the Tactical Puzzle Solutions Group? I’ve never heard of it.”

“That is the designation we’ve been given for the duration of our two weeks of contributions to the war effort. We are an Enigma, working on Tactical projects.”

A few understand right away and start laughing. Others need the explanation.

Still another question pops up, “Ma’am, could we just keep our present work positions for the duration? I like doing the job I’m at now and I don’t do as well at the others.”

“Let’s consider that right now then. A democratic vote. How many of you want to continue in the positions you are now holding? Raise your hands.”

Nearly everyone raises their hand.

“Those opposed?”

Karen raises her hand.

“Well, I’d say that pretty much decides it, wouldn’t you?” I level a meaningful look in Karen’s direction.

They all give a cheer and begin to file out. Karen sinks to a chair.

“Ok, baby. Talk to me.”

She looks up at me with concern in her eyes, “I don’t think I can do this.”

“You did wonderfully today. Why do you think it will be a problem?”

“A couple of reasons. My friends don’t understand. Some of the other students at mess look at me and talk behind my back. Prue told me she heard them saying they think I’m being pretentious. I’m scared to death of making a mistake and causing deaths. I don’t know. It’s all so sudden. I didn’t want this, it just happened.”

“Let’s go for a little walk, while we talk.”

We exit the lab and I lock the doors. Together, we begin our walk back to the enlisted student quarters.

I begin by telling her about someone, “…who was volunteered for an extremely hazardous mission, not quite reluctantly, but without the normal opportunity to decide about that action.” I pause for an instant to gather my thoughts.

“This volunteer lost almost everything he had, in exchange for the chance to do something more for his country than he would otherwise have been able to do. He found that, in the preparation for that chance, he was able to do much more, both for himself and for others, than would have been possible otherwise. He encountered a great deal of animosity toward, and lack of understanding of, the sacrifices he had to make in order to prepare for carrying out that mission, animosity which made his choice very difficult at times, even to the point of tears and nearly giving up, but he continued, not totally of his own volition, to prepare.” I glanced toward her, to gauge her reaction, but she was simply listening.

“He’s been given the chance to have a — previously unexpected and totally different, but nearly normal — life which could allow him some happiness following the hazardous mission for which he volunteered.”

We walk for a moment in silence.

“While recovering from the preparations for that mission, he was allowed to teach and found that, even if teaching alone were to be the only thing he accomplished in this life, even if he includes consideration of the mission which he has yet to finish, then he’s made a great and lasting contribution, and he’s satisfied that his personal sacrifices mean something in the long term. So you see, things have a strange way of working out.”

She glances toward me.

I return her look. “Even when things look bleak and make no sense at all, even when your adversaries plot your downfall and hope for your failure, your sacrifices will come to mean something to someone else. Your adversaries may never comprehend that meaning, but those who receive your contribution will know that someone somewhere gave them the assistance they needed, when they needed it, and that it made all the difference in the world.” Strange, my ‘talk’ has done as much for me as it has for my companion. I turn to her with new resolution.

“As to your immediate problem, if anyone gets in your face over this Major’s insignia, you tell them it wasn’t your idea. You were outranked by a real Colonel who assigned it to you for the purpose of a specific set of assignments. You may, or may not, want to add that I thought that you were the most qualified for the assignment.”

She looked at me with mingled astonishment, pride, and terror.

“Second, you are not responsible for any of the deaths of our troops in Vietnam, not even one. The enemy is responsible. All you and this group are trying to do is out-think them so that they can be stopped before they succeed, and the other students are your Tactical Puzzle Solutions team working toward this goal. Lastly, if someone is giving you a hard time and if, by chance, you know they have expertise which could be used in TacPzlSolGp, then tell me and I’ll get them temporarily reassigned into the team. They’ll learn quickly. After all, we only accept the best in our TacPzlSolGp.” I raise one eyebrow in question.

She smiles at me. “I think I know someone already. She and a couple of her friends have been giving me a hard time ever since I arrived here, and she intensified it the moment she saw this on my sleeve at lunch. She’s a whizz at photo analysis, in fact that’s her nickname here, ‘Whizz.’ Even her instructors say she’s really good, I heard them. We might grab her for our local confirmation of the deductions concerning the photos we receive.”

“All right, I want to meet her. Now.”

Karen takes me to her barrack and we go in. At first there is no reaction until Karen calls, “Attention. Officer in the quarters.”

Her nemesis laughs and says, “You’re not an officer here, Karen. You’re just like us.”

I reply, “That may be true Specialist, but I am a real Colonel and you will come to attention in my presence.”

The Barrack Sergeant has heard the commotion and enters the fray suddenly recognizing me and deferring to my rank. “Attention in the Barrack. Officer present.”

That immediately curtails the lethargy in the others.

“Now, Major, will you indicate these photo interpretation experts we need for the Tactical Group?”

Karen calls forward three of the girls and takes a pen and paper pad jotting down their names and service numbers for me. Everyone is looking around in confusion.

Nemesis says, “Tactical group?” in a little voice.

“Major, I’m going to go make the arrangements to have these three transferred to the TacPzlSolGp while you explain it all to these three outside. The rest of you may carry on.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

The Barrack Sergeant salutes, I salute, everyone else salutes…. I have never seen more confusion in a barrack, except maybe the day those two cobras wound up in C company, D barracks. That was interesting. Fortunately, no one was shot, although at least two magazines of .308 rounds were touched off under the bunks in an attempt to kill the cobras. They all missed by the way, ventilating the doors and walls while the cobras happily departed through an open door.

I go out to return to my quarters so I can prepare the requisition to be given to the school commander tomorrow morning. Karen follows me out with the three girls a pace or two behind her, following her to a place outdoors where they can talk and see anyone coming who might overhear them.

-o~O~o-

The next morning after breakfast, Karen leads them to our lab where small etched metal signs have magically materialized on the lab doors overnight: TacPzlSol Gp Dallas, TX, Major Karen Delheim, OIC, acting, Colonel L. Jackson, Advising. When they enter, Karen reports to me and I hand her a temporary Captain’s insignia.

“You need to decide which of them is your acting photo interpretation officer,” I say.

“They may have the table over there. Copies of the photos and their analysis provided by Saigon are there, along with the photos from yesterday. What we need from them is, either confirmation they agree with the interpretation of the photos as given, or we need to know their own interpretation and why. We need it yesterday. Do they understand that this is not an exercise, and that we are doing real work?”

Karen says, “I think you’d better explain it to them again, Ma’am. They seem to think this is just some sort of super lab game.”

“Okay. I’ll talk with them. Decide who gets the rank and then send them to me over at their table. In the meantime, get the show on the road, Major.” I say the last few words loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Yes, Ma’am.” She turns to address the rest of the group, who’ve been following our interaction with more than usual interest. “Why are you all sitting around? There are lives at stake and Vietnam won’t wait.”

People quickly burst into action. I go over to my table to await the new Captain and her troops. Karen goes back and hands the insignia to her former nemesis, who looks at it and then back to her with a, ‘You’re kidding, right?’ expression on her face.

Karen tells her, “Donna, put it on and report to the Colonel. We have a lot to do and our report must be finished and sent status ‘Immediate’ back to Saigon before 1900 this evening.”

Donna slowly takes the insignia and is looking around in disbelief.

I put in my two cents worth, “Captain, are you going to stand around all day, or might we get some work out of you?”

She and her two friends rush over, as she is trying to put the insignia onto her sleeve.

“I’ve been told the three of you are exceptional at photo interpretation. I’ve read the reports made by your instructors and I agree. We have no one in this group who is quite as good at it, so you are volunteered. The duration is for the remainder of this week and all of the next. We get no time off, because there are lives at stake. Which reminds me, just a moment.”

“ATTENTION, EVERYONE!” The sound level drops quickly.

“It may interest you to know that our report sent to Saigon last night was acted upon and saved lives. The pincer tactic you recommended worked. The enemy attack was rebuffed by the strong follow-up offensive our group recommended and Saigon is waiting for our take on this latest Intel. Congratulations, everyone. Now get moving again.”

Almost as though they never stopped, everyone is right back at their task.

“Ma’am, you’re kidding right? This is just an exercise, isn’t it?” It’s Karen’s erstwhile nemesis, of course.

“If that’s the attitude you are going to take, then you are going to cost lives out in the field. Either give me that insignia, and then get out, or get to work, because this is no joke. General Pendleton is in Saigon and we are acting in advisory mode for these two weeks.”

She still doesn’t quite believe it.

“We may even receive a unit citation for our last report, so we want only the best working with us. If you’re not the best, then you don’t belong here.”

She’s fingering her temporary rank and thinking.

“Well?” I hold out my hand, waiting for the insignia.

She turns to the others with a new sense of mission. “Okay you two, let’s look at those photos. You know there’s nobody else at this school who does this as well as we do. Let’s prove it where it counts.”

They dive into the photos, noting the Top Secret – No Forn stamps on the back of each image in bold red lettering and glance at each other for a moment.

A few minutes later, our new Captain comes over and asks me where they can find notepads and pencils. I loan her a pencil and hand her a req form and tell her to fill out a requisition for whatever they need, then it goes through channels. She rolls her eyes, but takes the form and the pencil.

While she’s doing that, I call down for another twenty pads and a couple dozen pencils. About the time the req makes it up to Karen and back to me, the pencils and pads are coming through the door. I adjust the amounts on the req and initial it. It’s then exchanged for the valuable items and distributed back to our new Captain, who has just gained some understanding of our chain of command.

---

 

To Be Continued….       © 2008, 2009 by T D Aldoennetti & Rénae Dúmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder) or her assigned representative. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. An Aldoennetti Original.