Chapter 3
The soldiers of Checkpoint Charlie were thoroughly disappointed by the fire. They had expected a roaring inferno to sweep across the Everfree. Even the major, a mare who had been hardened by three decades of military service, had stood by excitedly when each platoon lit their respective patches of the forest. Far removed from the expectation, the Everfree barely took the flame. The wet, green wood combined with the magical energies which had always protected the forest from pony meddling kept the heat at bay. Only the vegetation immediately around the fuel was burned.
Once the fire had died down, there was about twenty metres of scorched earth separating the forest from the palisade. It was less than the major wanted, but she decided that it would be unwise to send her troops outside again. It would be getting dark soon, and she didn’t like having her ponies outside at the best of times. She gave the order over the checkpoint’s loudspeakers, informing the ponies that they could relax until the morning.
“That major doesn’t know what she’s doing,” grumbled Lieutenant Malum, a small white unicorn stallion, to Ensign Riggs as they made their way to his office, “the rabble needs to be kept busy. If we leave them to their own devices, they may very well begin questioning the authority of their betters. They need to be kept well worked and disciplined. No offence, but they should never make an earth pony a senior officer. They are too sympathetic to the masses, and therefore inclined to allow their emotions cloud their judgement.”
“If you say so, sir,” the ensign replied, keeping his face as expressionless as possible.
“That’s not to say an earth pony cannot improve themselves and move up to the superior class. It’s difficult, but it’s certainly possible. You’re well on your way, ensign. You spent years obediently following the orders of your superiors, and if you continue to do so you may find yourself amongst us. It will be difficult for you, being more naturally suited to labour than leading, but before the high command promotes you, I’ll make a proper officer out of you. In a few years, you could be where I am.”
In actuality, Riggs would probably be a lieutenant in a matter of months. He had performed well as an enlisted soldier, and excelled academically at the military college. All he needed was Malum’s letter of recommendation and he’d be given his own platoon. Both ponies knew this, but Riggs knew better than to bring it up.
Malum’s office was a small one room wooden hut built next to the second platoon’s barracks. He was proud to say that he oversaw its construction himself. Using his unicorn magic to open the door, the lieutenant bid his ensign farewell.
“Get the soldiers up at 0400 tomorrow,” he said, “Run them through some pre-dawn drill to make up for this afternoon of slacking off.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the ensign with a salute, before heading to the barracks.
***
The bulk of the barracks was taken up by a long room. Fifty beds with fifty footlockers were arranged in two neat rows down the guts of the building. Two of these were unoccupied, and the rest had an enlisted pony either sprawled exhaustedly on it, or going about the business of removing their uniforms and putting away their gear. They were roughly arranged by squad. This was the result of the soldiers’ desire to be with their closer friends rather than some regulation. The barracks was buzzing with the sound of conversation.
Near the entrance there were two separate rooms. Each was the same size, and had enough space for a desk, foot locker, and bed. Normally, one of these rooms would belong to the platoon’s chief sergeant while the other would belong to its lieutenant. One of the reasons platoon two of Checkpoint Charlie was chosen for Riggs’s field training was because one of these rooms was vacant, as Malum had his own hut. It seemed fitting for an ensign to get used to an officer’s quarters.
Squad four made their home at the far end of the barracks. The ponies that made up fire team Alpha were at the very end on the left side. Corporal Whisk’s bed was between the two previously unoccupied beds. He had moved there as soon as the two privates previously in his fire team were discharged. He liked his space. The bed one space closer to the entrance was subsequently taken by Sweetie Belle, while the other was taken by Apple Bloom. On the far side of the unicorn was private storm. Across from them was sergeant Avalon and her fire team, and a bit further down was the other fire team in the squad. Sitting in a corner surrounded by the ponies she’d met, Apple Bloom felt like the rest of the platoon was totally alien to her.
“You know,” grumbled Corporal Whisk, “in most companies, higher ranks get better sleeping arrangements.”
“Yes,” admitted Avalon, “but in a lot of infantry companies, a better sleeping arrangement means a slightly larger bivouac shelter in a malaria-ridden swamp, or a slightly thicker sleeping bag on the tundra. At least we’ve got a proper barracks and a decent environment here.”
“I suppose. Wish I was back at regimental HQ in Canterlot. I had a chevron on my arm and my own room. Even bigger than our lieutenant’s!”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have sold vinegar in vodka bottles to the officers’ children.”
Whiskey considered this for a moment, scratching his head with his hoof. “No,” he concluded, “that was hilarious. It’s amazing the way a kid’ll act drunk if he thinks he’s drunk even though he’s not drunk. Made a good few bits off of it, too. Besides, all they did to me for that was bump me down to corporal and send me to battalion HQ, and I still had my own room there.”
“Well if you wanted to stay there, you shouldn’t have slept with the Colonel’s daughter.”
He didn’t need to think about his response this time, “No, that was totally worth it. Still have her number, too. Maybe I should pay old what’s-her-name a visit next time I have some rec leave...”
“Back up,” said Sweetie Belle to the corporal, “Who in their right mind made YOU a junior sergeant?”
“Oh, no pony in their right mind. I went straight from private to junior sergeant. See, I was a real pain in the ass to my sarge, and he really wanted to get rid of me. Thing is, no other squad wanted me. Eventually, he called in a favour to get me the hay out of his squad. There were a lot of NCOs with favours to call in after I was forced into the military, what with the whole Nightmare thing having occurred not long before. Anyway, next morning, they woke me up, gave me a chevron, a nice paycheque and me own room in Canterlot. Well, I wasn’t going to complain, was I?”
“Don’t let the corporal give you any ideas,” Avalon smiled, “I don’t have any favours to call in.”
Apple Bloom raised a hoof and said, “Well, hay, good to know our fire team leader really earned his rank, huh? Certainly the sort-a pony you want by yer side when it gets hairy. You’re a truly-”
“ATTENTION!” cried the chief sergeant, prompting every pony in the barracks to shut up, stand to and salute the ensign who had just entered.
Riggs jumped in surprise when every pony saluted him. He still hadn’t gotten used to making entire rooms of ponies stand to attention. “At ease,” he ordered. Every pony went back to relaxing. He glanced at Whistle. She was leaning against the door to her room. She shot her eyes at him, and didn’t need to say a word to make him stop in his tracks. No pony defied an order from the chief, even an implied one. The ensign gulped before saying “Howdy there, chief. What can I do you for?”
She held her door open and silently beckoned the officer inside with a slight nod. Riggs complied, and she shut the door behind them. He heard a key click, and felt a speck of sweat on his brow. He was beginning to understand why every pony found the chief so intimidating.
“It’s probably best if the other enlisted ponies don’t hear my little insubordination,” she explained hastily. Pausing for a moment, she looked down at the ground, as if struggling to put her thoughts into words. Eventually, she looked the ensign dead in the eye and inquired, “How did our beloved CO take to the idea of an afternoon off?”
“Four o’clock drill,” the ensign stated plainly.
“So not well, then?”
“FOUR. O’CLOCK. DRILL,” He repeated with exaggerated emphasis.
“Gotta keep the rabble occupied, huh?”
“I’ve got to hand it to you; you sure have your commanding officer figured out.”
The stallion grinned at Whistle, and she allowed her own mouth to curl into a smile. As the platoon’s chief, she saw it as her duty to assess the ensign that would be spending at least a few more months in their presence. He might be around for a lot longer too. If something happened to Malum, and there were a lot of ponies on the base who wanted something to happen to Malum, then Riggs might take his place. Whistle wanted to determine if that would be a desirable change. She studied his rough, smiling face for a moment. There would be plenty of time to analyse the stallion later. For the time being, she could simply accept that he had a sense of humour.
“It’s good to see the snobs haven’t made you one of their own,” she said.
“Give ‘em time.”
“Should’ve just stayed a non-com like me. I earn more than most of the commissioned officers in this camp, I’m more useful, and I didn’t have to go to college.”
“Well, I want to be a cavalry officer. Had a good’n when I was an enlisted pony. She really inspired me, ya know. She ran the platoon well, led us through some serious danger, got us through Nightmare, Discord, all that lot, and never left a pony behind. I’ve always seen chiefs as the officer’s assistant, or as experts in one particular area, like mechanics or what have you. I don’t wanna do that. I wanna be like that L.T. I had in the cav.”
“You want to be an officer to LEAD your ponies?” the chief scoffed, “Riggs, look at me. Who do you think REALLY runs this outfit? You’re right about chief sergeants, we’re all specialists in some area or another. As an infantry chief, my specialty happens to be running this platoon. It’s a damn good thing I’m here, too. Malum is absolutely hopeless. It was different a few years ago. Officers used to be competent. These days, crappy commissioned officers are becoming the rule rather than the exception.”
“Well, I won’t be like Malum. I know what it’s like to be an enlisted pony. I’ll make a good officer, you’ll see.”
“Yea, I guess we will see,” the chief paused, and her lips briefly twitched into a cunning smile before she continued, “Ok, I’ll wake up the troops at four and take them through the drill.”
“Still testing me, Whistle? I’LL wake the troops up at four and I’LL take them through the drill. I can hardly sleep in while the rest of the platoon is up and working, can I?”
The chief smiled approvingly before opening the door, “I’ll see you at four, then,” she said with a respectful nod.
“See you at four,” the ensign replied as he exited the room with. As soon as the door closed behind him, he let out a relieved sigh. That mare seemed to radiate power. Still, she seemed like a decent pony, and he was glad to have her as his chief. If he had to get up at an ungodly hour to yell at a bunch of tired ponies, he was glad to do it with her. He thought it would be an unpleasantness that they’d endure together. The rebels in the Everfree, however, had their own designs upon the platoon.