An Early wake up

“Sergeant Pinball,” Mighty Mouse’s quiet voice does more to pull me from my slumber than if he had knocked on the wall, his usual prelude to entering my room, “get out side to the company area, and bring your weapon.”
There are few phrases that can bring an NCO out of a deep slumber faster than those. It can mean only one thing. Some one has screwed up bad. I glance at my clock it is 0830 or as near as my clock can tell me, fluctuating power does not lend to an accurate cheap clock. For most of the army 0830 is not an early wake up, but when your day often ends as the sun comes up, and all your work is done at night this is obscenely early. Some one has truly screwed the pooch.
I slap the on button to my coffee maker, and throw my legs out of my bed. “I’m on my way” I tell him and he Di Di Mau’s out of the room. I shove my feet into my boots as I listen to him poke his head into the next room. He was carrying his weapon and mine sleeps with me so it wasn’t my truck, unless Lifeguard screwed the pooch, not likely but not beyond the realm of possibility.
I had conducted a perfect three point face plant last night when we got back. Dropping my blouse on my folding chair, and sleeping in my pants. It had been misting, so I wanted a chance to get a head start on the M240 today rather than turn it in to the arms locker I had checked it out with CPL WT. Rust on a weapon is a bad thing. I briefly consider lugging the bitch with me but a brief consultation of the Army “Worst case scenario survivors book” tells me it is a bad idea. SGT Bulldog is prying himself off the top bunk opposite me, having received the same message. SGT Grandpa the third man in my room is not here, his guys were on mission when I went to sleep. I shuffle down the hall to Doc Feelgood’s room.
Doc is up and working at his computer, as the boss medic he works more normal hours.
“Doc, can you watch my ‘240 for me?” I ask, he nods and takes it from me, placing it under his chair.
Rule one for surviving a something like this is to not drawing attention to yourself. There is nothing wrong with holding onto your crew serve, as long as it is secured. Showing up with it would definitely attract attention.
I hurry out to the platoon area a step ahead of bull dog to see a milling crowd. This is a good sign, if we were in formation it would mean that collective punishment was in store. Again mentally consulting the survival guide I implement step two.
I fade to the back of the crowd, putting one layer of soldiers between me and any open space, but keeping as far from the center of mass as possible. This is a continuation of the “DON”T STAND OUT” rule. The leadership is very agitated, SSG lifeguard has his personal weapon, so it wasn’t us. I filter past him and say as quiet as possible “Doc has the 240 for me.” He nods and then heads for SSG Moto, and waits for a clear space to whisper the same in his ear.
Moto looks up and picks me out of the crowed in a second. Being a little shorter would be nice right now. He holds up his thumb with a question on his face. I return the thumb. He goes back to what he was doing. I then slide through the crowd to where CPL WT is smoking, and tell him the same. He gives me a condescending look and says “I know.” It is to be expected of an infantryman trapped with a bunch of tankers.
Step 3 says to first endure you and your buddies are covered, then look around. Moto doesn’t look like it is us, that would mean the other squad. Keeping near the rear of the rather circular gaggle I begin listening. SGT SAFRI is explaining why his driver is running out to the vehicles to get the M4 he locked inside of it last night. This might be it. A weapon left in a vehicle, that would be enough to get us all out here.
Step 4, gather intelligence. The leadership is wound up like pack starving dogs in a slaughter house. They are not going to talk. The enlisted men, trapped at the bottom gather information out of self defense. First I find Mighty Mouse.
“Remember how we found out what was going on when we were headquarters?” I ask
He nods. “Do it now.” He smiles and begins to wander around eves dropping. When there were headquarters trucks I had three guys assigned to me. SSG Caine hated that an E5 didn’t work for an E6 and would cut me out of the information loop. So I would send Mighty Mouse and Skeletor into the back of their formation to eves drop on what they told their guys. It worked, pretty well. They just got in the habit of telling me what the learned through rumor and eves dropping.
The cold was getting to me so I went to stand in the sunlight, and lit up a Nat Sherman MCD Shipped to me by an old friend.
Step 5 don’t look guilty, be relaxed. It took two puffs before the first guy talked to me. CPL IT wanders up and begins talking. Having never smoked himself, he made himself an honorary smoker by going to the smoke pits in training. He said then it was where he found out what was going on. So true.
It would seem that SGT SAFRI’s driver leaving his M4 was not the reason for this. It had been discovered just minutes ago, when we had been called out here. The issue had been an M240 found in the motor pool.
This was so very bad, so very, very bad. It wasn’t my squad, it was the other one. The offender was already in the commanders office. SSG Caine was pulled aside by SFC Big Daddy when he came out. The data fits. Now to keep from being an accidental casualty.
There is the to be expected item by item physical inventory of all weapon systems. We move to the weapons locker, I detour and retrieve my 240 from Doc, arriving just in time to slide it into the rack when WT opens the rack. Then more standing around.
Moto has gotten a coffee cup, so I fade away long enough to get a cup for myself and SGT Sasquatch. Within an hour it is SPC Thug who gives me the first news. SSG Caine is being relived, and Dozer fills in the blanks. This was the 400 pound anvil that broke the camels back. Caine had been screwing up since we got here. He will go to head quarters, and be replaced. Ultimately he did not confirm the weapons were secured when he submitted his sensitive items report. He had abused his joes and NCOs enough that no one would stick their neck out for him.
It wouldn’t have happened to a nicer man. A few weeks later I talked to an older and wiser head about the whole situation. He had trained more than a few soldiers in his career. His last words to me on the subject bear repeating.

“ One of the problems with a lot of leaders, small and large, is that they have not enjoyed and labored with possessing power. So they misuse it. It can be narcotic and so destructive, to themselves and others. That is why the study of power is so important.”
That should be written above the doors to every NCO school in the army.