Joe
Junior
- Aug 4, 2018
- 563
Act One, Part One: Tin Soldiers
The Major could count how many times he daydreamed about disobeying orders on one hand (the hand that still had all five fingers on it, that is). As his eyes scanned the final sentence of the order, he knew that the tally went up by one.
Fucking Navy Command.
The Major looked out of the window of his office, eyeing the formations of recruits jogging around the base, spurred on by their officers. They were still quite fresh. Their units had not quite been decimated by the attrition rates of the quitters and failures. Of course, things were better now than the days where the Major was just a Captain when beatings until one was black and blue for minor infractions were quite routine, but the Marine Commandos were considered the blunt end of the Kingdom's club.
“-...prompt and safe return immediately.” The final words of the order read, before being stamped with the seal of the Division Commander.
That must only mean one thing, he mused. The rumors were, in fact, true. The Major had his suspicions about The Captain and had detected the faint whisperings of the enlisted men and officers. As any good commander, the Major studied their biographies intently. It wasn't everyday that the Major had an officer who's entire history was completely scrubbed and given a false name. The fact that the Captain had showed up at the Marine Commandos as soon as Prince Canali graduated from the Naval Academy.
The Major glanced towards the bright blue sky, wondering where The Captain was. He would most certainly be on the ground by now. There was not a cloud in sight in the entire province of Sicily. That meant mission effectiveness must have been near 100%. No weather delay, no need for the planes to have done a go-around.
A safe jump for the Major’s men.
How he wished that he had gotten to know the Captain just a little bit more over the two years that he was billeted. They had only spoken to each other a handful of times, never individually and always in group settings. Not only was it inappropriate for a commanding officer to show favoritism along his men, but the Captain was special. Like all commanding officers, one does not realize how a junior officer will act when given a first time command. Will they freeze in the trial of combat? Will they abuse their privileged position? Will their platoon or company refuse to follow them into combat? Are they incompetent?
Captain Canali was anything but incompetent.
Almost universally beloved by his fellow officers and the company he commanded. Top grade marks. Perfect assessments across the board.
Even though he was Royalty and in this time when confidence in the Italian Royalty was at an all time low.
Of course, the Major originally had his doubts whether a pompous prince would be able to complete selection, but he was more than happy to have eaten his words when a then Student-Officer quickly became one of the most capable junior officers in his class of recruits compared to the rest of the crop from the Academies. He was highly intelligent, educated in the American Ivy League and bringing it back home to Roma.
He was bright and, quite frankly, a joy to be around. Almost too much so to be able to thrive in a military environment. There was still some boy left in the man. Still, he had a home here and a future if the universal adoration by his company was anything to go by; the Major was sad to see him go and even more remiss that he did not have the ability to personally mentor the young Prince.
The Major folded up the order and placed it in his “TO DISPERSE” bin for his secretary to deliver to the Raider Battalion at the end of the hour. Although the order was marked for Highest Priority, he doubted that the Battalion would be able to produce the Captain immediately. Without vehicles and in the mountains of Sicily, it would take two days for the Battalion to return back to Livorno by foot. By then, the Captain will grab his belongings (what belongings, the Major snickered proudly, Commandos have only their rifle!) and knowing him, will say his goodbyes to his company men individually.
“Lucia.” The Major called out.
The door cracked open, a frizzled mass of gray hair poking in. Like many good secretaries, they were privy to more information, and trusted more, than some spouses.
“Yes, Major Andretti?” She croned.
The Major merely pointed at the order in the “TO DISPERSE” bin.
Prince Canali was coming home.
The Major could count how many times he daydreamed about disobeying orders on one hand (the hand that still had all five fingers on it, that is). As his eyes scanned the final sentence of the order, he knew that the tally went up by one.
Fucking Navy Command.
The Major looked out of the window of his office, eyeing the formations of recruits jogging around the base, spurred on by their officers. They were still quite fresh. Their units had not quite been decimated by the attrition rates of the quitters and failures. Of course, things were better now than the days where the Major was just a Captain when beatings until one was black and blue for minor infractions were quite routine, but the Marine Commandos were considered the blunt end of the Kingdom's club.
“-...prompt and safe return immediately.” The final words of the order read, before being stamped with the seal of the Division Commander.
That must only mean one thing, he mused. The rumors were, in fact, true. The Major had his suspicions about The Captain and had detected the faint whisperings of the enlisted men and officers. As any good commander, the Major studied their biographies intently. It wasn't everyday that the Major had an officer who's entire history was completely scrubbed and given a false name. The fact that the Captain had showed up at the Marine Commandos as soon as Prince Canali graduated from the Naval Academy.
The Major glanced towards the bright blue sky, wondering where The Captain was. He would most certainly be on the ground by now. There was not a cloud in sight in the entire province of Sicily. That meant mission effectiveness must have been near 100%. No weather delay, no need for the planes to have done a go-around.
A safe jump for the Major’s men.
How he wished that he had gotten to know the Captain just a little bit more over the two years that he was billeted. They had only spoken to each other a handful of times, never individually and always in group settings. Not only was it inappropriate for a commanding officer to show favoritism along his men, but the Captain was special. Like all commanding officers, one does not realize how a junior officer will act when given a first time command. Will they freeze in the trial of combat? Will they abuse their privileged position? Will their platoon or company refuse to follow them into combat? Are they incompetent?
Captain Canali was anything but incompetent.
Almost universally beloved by his fellow officers and the company he commanded. Top grade marks. Perfect assessments across the board.
Even though he was Royalty and in this time when confidence in the Italian Royalty was at an all time low.
Of course, the Major originally had his doubts whether a pompous prince would be able to complete selection, but he was more than happy to have eaten his words when a then Student-Officer quickly became one of the most capable junior officers in his class of recruits compared to the rest of the crop from the Academies. He was highly intelligent, educated in the American Ivy League and bringing it back home to Roma.
He was bright and, quite frankly, a joy to be around. Almost too much so to be able to thrive in a military environment. There was still some boy left in the man. Still, he had a home here and a future if the universal adoration by his company was anything to go by; the Major was sad to see him go and even more remiss that he did not have the ability to personally mentor the young Prince.
The Major folded up the order and placed it in his “TO DISPERSE” bin for his secretary to deliver to the Raider Battalion at the end of the hour. Although the order was marked for Highest Priority, he doubted that the Battalion would be able to produce the Captain immediately. Without vehicles and in the mountains of Sicily, it would take two days for the Battalion to return back to Livorno by foot. By then, the Captain will grab his belongings (what belongings, the Major snickered proudly, Commandos have only their rifle!) and knowing him, will say his goodbyes to his company men individually.
“Lucia.” The Major called out.
The door cracked open, a frizzled mass of gray hair poking in. Like many good secretaries, they were privy to more information, and trusted more, than some spouses.
“Yes, Major Andretti?” She croned.
The Major merely pointed at the order in the “TO DISPERSE” bin.
Prince Canali was coming home.
