You are reading the private diary of Corporal Raincloud. If you are reading this without permission, I cannot be held responsible for my actions resulting from your reading this.
Initial Entry:
Time flies when you don't have any responsibilities, but all vacations must end. Sooner or later, the ponies paying your salary want you to get back to earning your keep. Don't get me wrong, serving in Their Majesties' Equestrian Legion isn't a bad deal, especially when you get hoof-picked to join the Royal Guard division at Canterlot Palace.
Imagine my reaction when I got those orders last month while stationed at the Equestrian Embassy in the Gryphon Territories. Even more shocking was the fact that the ambassador recommended me by name. Generally speaking, he was the type of leader who only remembered your name if you created extra work for him, or rather, caused inter-cultural incidents with the locals while off duty. It's one thing to make a pass at a cute bartender after you've had a few drinks. It's another thing to pick a fight with the bouncer when he shows up to throw you out. The ambassador did everything in his power to make life miserable for those who could not make this distinction. He hated working only slightly less than he hated those who made him work overtime. A simple commendation, on the other hoof, was practically unheard of.
A recommendation for the most coveted post in the entire Legion? I might as well spend a paycheck on lottery tickets. Of course, when I asked him about it, he just said they had an open spot for a pegasus guard. His completely neutral expression while giving such a vague answer suggested there was more to it that he wasn't going to tell me about. Somehow, I doubt that managing to stay out of trouble for the three years I was there would have been enough to put me over the other pegasi at the Embassy.
In any case, the powers that be saw fit to give me two weeks of leave. I took advantage of this time to go home to Trottingham, visit my folks, and do absolutely nothing for the entire first week. I also wanted to talk to my grandpa about his time as a Royal Guard, but he wouldn't say much of anything.
“You'll just have to see for yourself,” he told me, with a rather disturbing grin, “It wouldn't be any fun if I just told you everything.” Maybe I'm just over-thinking things.
He also suggested that I start a diary to write down my experiences.
Checking In:
I haven't been in Canterlot for a full day yet, and I can already see why everypony wants to be posted here. They actually do things in a way that makes sense! This can't be real. I must be dreaming, but I can't say for sure until either my teeth start falling out or I suddenly find that my coat and mane have been shaved off.
According to my orders, all I had to do was show up at the gate and get further directions from there. They said the same thing when I reported for duty at the embassy three years ago. They just happened to leave out the part where I had to argue with the gate guard that yes, I really did have a reason to be there, and then I had to wait a half hour for him to confirm with his superiors before he finally let me in. Then, I got yelled at for being late and not having my coat and mane dyed properly despite the fact that getting a military dye job isn't possible off post.
Imagine my surprise when I walked up to the gate pulling a small rental cart with all of my things and saw an officer waiting there. After we exchanged salutes, he addressed me, and introduced himself as Shining Armor, captain of the Royal Guard.
I was at a complete loss for what to say. Not only were they expecting me, but the captain himself showed up to greet me.
I will never forget his response to my stunned silence, “Relax, we do things a little differently than I imagine you're used to.”
As the captain walked away to tend to his other duties, a pegasus guard showed up and introduced himself as Sergeant Scud Runner. In my previous experience, this was the part where I'd have to find a place to dump everything while I spent the rest of the day in a bureaucratic run-around between admin offices. Instead, he showed me to the barracks. Apparently, I had the rest of the day to unpack and get my coat, mane, and tail dyed. All the administrative stuff will be covered tomorrow at orientation.
Yes, there's an orientation briefing for guards new to the Palace. They don't just drop you in the middle of things and get all bent out of shape when you don't know where anything is or what the fuck is going on.
When I finally got to see my room, it was icing on the too-good-to-be-true cake. OK, the beds were no more than basic frames with cheap mattresses, but the room was easily twice as big as the one back at the embassy guards' quarters. And I had to share that room.
Unpacking was an experience as well. Sharing a small room meant that I didn't really have much stuff. In fact, with some creative packing techniques, I could have probably fit everything I brought with me in a pair of oversized saddlebags, but the cart was easier. In any case, my lack of oversized saddlebags meant several trips up and down the stairs to get everything up. Rather, it would have if two off-duty unicorns from the night watch hadn't insisted on helping me carry it all to my room. I should have gotten their names, because now I owe them at least several drinks for their efforts.
Now that I think about it, this isn't a dream. I've somehow died, and through a clerical error in the afterlife, not been condemned to Tartarus.
Orientation:
Today I learned a couple of important things.
The first is about my future in Their Majesties' Equestrian Legion. Canterlot Palace is a minimum 3-year post even if my active duty ends before that, and I will remain here for the extent of my career in the Legion. Positions open up as older guards retire. I think being here at the palace is worth an extra year. I can worry about the lifetime appointment later.
The other thing I learned is that something I already suspected is a universal constant. Admin types love to hear themselves talk.
I spent the morning dealing with the military side of being a guard. This mostly involved sitting in a makeshift briefing room in the barracks while some lieutenants and staff NCOs droned on about contract extensions, grooming standards, and duty schedules among other things. It dragged on for nearly 4 hours.
I can summarize in a few sentences. I'll be on the day shift working from 6:00 in the morning to 6:00 in the evening. The duty schedule goes 4 days on, 2 days off. My coat dye can't look faded or smudged when I report for duty, but I have to maintain it at my own expense. I already covered the contract extensions.
After the slow and agonizing death by lecture, Sgt. Scud Runner showed up to take me to the supply warehouse for my armor issue. Let's just say I'm glad I took the advice of those night guards who helped me move and kept my rental cart for an extra day. Once the supply ponies had my sizes, they gave me 2 sets of Royal Guard armor plus a fancier set for ceremonies and formal events. I couldn't have carried it all back to my room without a cart.
Sgt. Scud showed up again as I was finishing lunch. The afternoon briefing session would be inside the palace itself. For the first time since I arrived in Canterlot, I finally got to see where I would be working. I've only been to the palace once before. My grandfather brought me here shortly after he retired, but I was little more than a foal back then. Needless to say, it's just as impressive now as it was back then.
As if to punish me for my improved mood, the afternoon briefing was another 4 hours of misery listening to mid-level palace staff talking about what basically amounted to common sense. I find it borderline insulting that they seem to think I couldn't figure out most of this stuff on my own. I only took two useful things out of that staff meeting room.
The first was a roughly 10-minute lesson on how to act around the Princesses given by one of the stewards. Except for me, he was easily younger than everyone else in the room and looked almost out of place. The lesson covered the basics like how to approach and address them officially. It was short, sweet, and to the point. That's the surest sign of something important being said. Then, he threw the proverbial curve ball. Palace staff, including the guards, are only required to stand on ceremony with the Princesses in the throne room or while on official business. Apparently, it's not uncommon for a Princess to drop in on a cook, groundskeeper, chambermare, or off-duty guard and strike up a friendly conversation.
The second was a map of the palace, so I wouldn't get lost.
All told, there is one thing that makes sitting through hours of briefings better than running between admin offices. I got it over with in one day.