The Captains by W. E. B. Griffin Page A

the turret around to face the rear. By the time the turret swung, they were around a corner in the road; and there was nothing for him to fire at.
    When he got back to where he had left Woodrow and the platoon, he didn’t know what to do with the M24s. He was unable to raise the regimental CP on any of the tank radio frequencies.
    He walked over to Sergeant Sidney’s M4A3. Sidney was sitting with his legs stradding the tube.
    â€œSidney,” Parker said, “take one of those M24s and go back to regiment. Tell the colonel we have six of them and ask him what to do with them. And get us a radio frequency.”
    Sidney looked at him as if he were very sleepy. He nodded without saying a word and climbed off the cannon barrel. It was not, Parker decided, the time to remind Sidney that when sergeants were given an order by an officer, they were supposed to say, “Yes, sir.”
    Twenty minutes later, the regimental commander showed up, driving a jeep himself.
    Parker climbed off his tank, walked to the jeep, and saluted.
    â€œWhere did you get the tanks, Lieutenant?” the colonel asked.
    â€œI found them on the road, sir,” Parker said. “They had apparently been abandoned. I’m going to need crews for them.”
    â€œWho are these other men?” the Colonel replied, not responding to the request.
    â€œI think they’re from Item Company, sir,” Parker replied.
    â€œThat figures,” the colonel said. “I recognized the body of Item Company’s commander on the road on the way up here.”
    It took a moment before Parker realized the colonel was talking about the lieutenant he had shot.
    â€œThere’s no other officer up here?” the colonel went on.
    â€œNo, sir.”
    â€œOK,” the colonel said. “I don’t have any communications to give you, but I’ll try to get word to you if there’s a further withdrawal.” He corrected himself: “ When there is a further withdrawal.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œIn the meantime, do the best you can,” the colonel said. “You’ve got the ball.”
    â€œSir, what about crews for the M24s?”
    â€œThat’s your problem, Lieutenant. You’re the company commander.”
    â€œSir?”
    â€œYou heard me. You’re Tank Company commander, and if that’s what’s left of Item Company, you’re also Item Company commander. Your orders are the same as mine. Do what you can with what you’ve got.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œI wouldn’t spend a lot of time digging in,” the colonel said, as he cranked the jeep engine. “Apparently, we’re not the only ones suffering from bug-out fever.”
    Parker saluted, a reflex action, as the jeep pulled away. The colonel was too preoccupied with other matters to remember to return it.
    â€œSergeant Woodrow!” Parker called. Woodrow came running up.
    â€œWhat’s the word, Lieutenant?”
    â€œI’ve just been named company commander. This is apparently the company.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œThat makes you first sergeant,” Parker said. “Of our people and these infantry types. The tanks are ours, but we’re going to have to find crews for them.”
    â€œI’ll get right on it, Lieutenant,” Woodrow said. He touched his right hand to his forehead, a sloppy movement of his arm and wrist until the fingers touched the eyebrow, then a crisp movement, almost a jerk of the hand two inches away from the forehead. It wasn’t a parade ground salute, but it was a salute rendered with respect, from a first sergeant to his company commander on the battlefield. Their eyes met for a moment.
    â€œThank you, First Sergeant,” Lieutenant Parker said, the faintest suggestion of emotion in his voice. “Carry on.”
    (Four)
Tokyo, Japan
18 July 1950
    The assignment of officers in the grade of captain rarely comes to the attention of