tristane

I am starting to get a deeper and deeper respect for the good Captain C. for every day that passes. Even though this week, hardly surprising considering the uncharacteristic ease with which the previous week passed, was quite rough with battle practice and ten miles marches until late night almost every day we have gotten far enough to start fighting in group formations and form tactics. Although battle practice is hard work - climbing hills, stumbling on roots, stepping in water - it is still remarkably more fulfilling than an easy but tedious task. And we are getting pretty good. Yesterday we spent all day out in the woods, and when we finally got back to the regiment the lieutenant gave us the first positive remarks we have heard yet and told us that we had worked "damned hard" today and that we were starting to get "halfway decent".
Trust me, these are the best things we have heard since arrival.
(Not counting, of course, that time I shot a "one sticker series", a series of three shots that could be covered with one single sticker, and captain C. who inspected it smiled at me and winked and said, "Well, look at that. perfect." That still makes me grin.)

Then today before the last line-up he gathered the platoon in the corridor to "clear some things out", as he put it. The question was if there was any difference between the platoons, in forms of demands, attitude and pedagogical aspects, since 1st and 2nd always seem to end their days earlier than us and never seem to have as many or as hard demands to live up to. He listened while we tried to explain what we meant and then he had us sit down around him on the cold floor of the corridor.
"Of course there are going to be differences between the platoons. Different teachers have different approaches, and thus the schooling differs from class to class. We have chosen to do this a certain way because we know what you must live up to later. In terms of pedagogic and if this is the right approach or not is of course open for discussion. I am open for good ideas on how you want to do this. I won't be late discarding bad ideas either. But I know what is going to be expected from you. I am going to try and teach you what you need to know to be able to produce that."
He fell silent for a moment and looked across the twenty-three quiet students gazing back at him cautiously.
"Or do you think it is unfair?"
None spoke. He continued.
"I could understand it if you were soldiers, here solely because of duty, but you are future officers. You are here out of your own free will. You have chosen to be here, and you can leave any time you want. According to me you are not in the position to make those demands. You want to be here, but if you do you have to be prepared to face what it requires. The more time you are out practicing, the better you will become. If the other platoons aren't out as much, then, in my mind, they will have a less thorough education."
He paused again.
" Unfair? Well, life is damned unfair."

The fact that he took the time to talk to us in a non-formal way, not dismiss our concerns the way he could have done, but instead faced them and explained his stand point to us in such a completely non-characteristic way makes him grow even more in his character in my eyes. He could have diregarded it, or given us the rough "you-have-no-idea-about-soldiering-I-know-what-is-best-for-you-you-silly-pussies". But he didn't. He faced us and gave us a motivation. To be honest none of us really thought it was "unfair" that they got to quit earlier from the beginning. We have seen them practice out in the field. They can't move in a group, they don't know the distances. They are uncertain and need constant guidance from their officers. We may be hard-ridden, but we are getting tougher and better. It might be unfair, but if is hard to decide whether it is unfair to their advantage - or to ours.

When he had fallen silent for a second he asked if there were any further questions. There were none. Then he looked right at me, and although I had the sun in my eyes which made most of his appearance fade into a dark silhouette, I am dead certain that he smiled and then winked at me.
And something fluttered inside me.
I am such a silly little girl who falls for strong men in uniforms, but I can't help it. I can't even imagine waking up next to him, let alone what would have happened previously to that, but he is strong and clever and unbelievably witty and I couldn't help that goofy grin melting out all over my face, so help me God.

Silly, silly girl.