For once, it wasn't a glorious sunny morning in Falmouth. Indeed, the sky was a rather dull shade of grey, with clouds lazily drifting by and the odd spot of rain. The west coast of Britain tends to receive the bulk of the country's precipitation, and as such tends to be wetter than other parts.
But down in town the plan was to open a new monument and garden here. "Hello everybody!" called Hitch, as he stood in front of the gates. "It is my great honour and pleasure to have been invited to open this park to the public. As you all know, this is-"
"SERGEANT HITCH IS SPEAKING!" Izzy boomed from the crowd. "NOBODY INTERRUPTS HIM WHEN HE TALKS!"
Hitch sighed, as Izzy had apparently missed the irony in those words. "Anyway, err, huff, erm, this place has been built as a place of reflection and relaxation. It contains, amongst other things, sculptures and pathways through landscaped terrain to help build a sense of calm (here he stopped to check his script), a monument to Falmouth sailors who are forever sailing the seas, and-"
"A place to look at lots of plant life!" Sunny interrupted, briefly taking the microphone.
Hitch gently pushed her away. "Thank you, Sunny. Anyway, there's also a small fruit patch."
"That should reduce import costs," Zipp said, to nobody in particular.
Suddenly, there was a loud hissing noise. Zipp quickly determined that it was not from cylinder cocks but from Pipp and Izzy, both of whom were ironically producing far more noise than she had been.
"NOBODY INTERRUPTS HITCH!" Izzy boomed again.
Zipp rolled her eyes. "Where did you get that loud shushing from? Sacre Coeur?"
"In fact, the soil is good around here for growing that sort of thing, as it contains lots of useful nutrients that don't need much fertiliser and..."
Hitch trailed off as he saw the crowd looking at him in annoyance. "I'm rambling, aren't I?" Anyways, It is my great pleasure to declare this pla-"
He never got a chance to finish his sentence. A party popper suddenly went off in the crowd, and this spooked several people. The crowd scattered in all directions, but many of them went forward, running straight into the gates and bouncing off them.
Hitch sighed. "That could have gone better."
A few hours later, and the sky had at least brightened up a bit. Hitch brought Rebecca to a stop in the engine shed and secured her in place, before heading into town to try and find Sunny.
Sure enough, he found her hard at work with some machinery. "Hey Hitch!" she called. "How are you?"
"Could be better," Hitch admitted, adjusting his beret. "That opening was a disaster. What you doing?"
"Just testing a new piece of equipment I installed on my milkshake maker. I've decided to diversify into both smoothie and milkshake production to give my customers more choice, and as part of this I'm experimenting with new flavours. It can be a bit maintenance heavy, but the customers seem to like the finished results." Sunny saw the sadness in Hitch's eyes. "I take it the opening is weighing a bit heavily on you."
"Yeah," Hitch replied. "So much stuff got knocked over and damaged."
"Well, the townsfolk did help fix it, so that was a good thing. Consider it a bonding experience!"
"Easy for you to say," Hitch replied, as he leaned against a railing.
"Excuse me?" Sunny asked. "What's that meant to mean?"
"That was a big moment to prove I'm in charge and capable of handling responsibility," Hitch said. "As a Sergeant it is my responsibility to manage, coordinate, and keep a section of men running and the attached logistics flowing. As such, we need to look good, especially after the Sprout fiasco. Instead it was chaos and smoothies."
"That sounds like a title of a novel!" said a passing man, a sailor with a gigantic beard.
Sunny was starting to get a bit hot under the collar, which was strange as she wasn't wearing one. "What's wrong with smoothies?"
"I have the hardest job in town around here, apart from the mayor."
"Oh, please," Sunny replied, rolling her eyes. "I work hard too. I've been multitasking this entire conversation." She held up a finished smoothie as evidence.
"That's not a hard job at all," Hitch snorted.
"Yes it is!"
"Stop pulling my leg! All you do is sit behind a desk all day and pull levers every now and then. A child could do that!"
Sunny's eye started twitching. "You think that's easy? Mixing liquids is not a simple task! Besides, all you do is walk around town and bellow loudly at people in camoflauge."
"Come on, that's a bit reductionist," Hitch countered. "You clearly don't get it, do you?"
"Do you get it?" Sunny countered.
Suddenly, Zipp interrupted them. "Hey. Shouting at each other isn't going to achieve anything. Stop arguing and do your jobs."
This gave Hitch a brainwave. "Do our jobs," he said. "I've got it!"
"Is it contagious?" Sunny asked.
"No, an idea! How about we swap jobs for the day? I can manage your stand, and you can direct my troops for the day. How's that sounds?"
"Sounds like a walk in the park," Sunny snorted. "How hard can it be?"
About an hour later, the section was lined up at the parade ground for their drill practice. Stood in magnificent lines, they were the image of excellence and form. Each of them had a rifle on their shoulders, as today was rifle drill.
"I wonder if the Sergeant is slightly delayed," said one cadet.
"No talking in the ranks," said the Corporal. "I imagine the Sergeant has his reasons."
"Oh, look who it is," remarked a Lance-Corporal.
Suddenly appearing on the parade ground was Sunny, but dressed a little differently to normal. In place of her usual casual clothing was dark green camo pants and jacket, black combat boots polished so precisely a face would reflect in it, and a green beret. Not those Green Berets though. Attached to the front of the jacket was a rank slide with three chevrons- the emblem of a Sergeant.
"Right, listen up you lot!" she bellowed.
"Have you had a bang on the head?" the Corporal said sarcastically.
"Hitch put me in charge for today, so you'd better behave yourself, as I will be reporting back to him!" Sunny continued. "Now then, drill is on the agenda tonight. This mostly consists of marching up and down a square, and tonight with guns too."
"Rifles," a voice corrected.
"Whatever." Sunny had by this point circled from one side of the parade ground to the other. "Let's see what you can do. BY THE LEFT! QUICK! MARCH!"
Nobody moved.
So she tried again. "BY THE LEFT! QUICK! MARCH!"
Again, nobody moved.
"Why isn't anybody moving?"
"The Non-Commisioned Officer presiding over the parade ground gives the order depending on which side of the section he or she is standing on. As you are standing on the right, the correct order would be 'by the right, quick march'."
"Oh." Sunny felt a bit silly. "I'd assumed that was an instruction telling the section which foot to start on. Let's try that again." She paused, and then went straight back to bellowing. "BY THE RIGHT! QUICK MARCH!"
The section then moved off, moving forward in three ranks. The square sounded to the noise of marching boots booming against hard tarmac, and sometimes words from Sunny.
"HUP TWO THREE FOUR! KEEP IT UP TWO THREE FOUR!"
The Corporal rolled his eyes. "She has no idea what she's doing."
Just then, they were approaching a wall. "TURN LEFT!"
Nothing happened, and the section simply stopped at the obstacle in front, their feet still moving up and down.
"I SAID TURN LEFT!"
"The correct order here would be 'By the Right, Left Wheel."
Sunny whiped her brow. "Hitch was right," she said to herself. "This is more complicated than I thought. Still, I think I can pull it back. Point the thingies with the things on them!"
The entire section began laughing, all whilst still marching in place. "That doesn't tell us what you want us to do, I'm afraid," the Lance Corporal said.
Suddenly here phone buzzed, and she pulled it out of her pocket to answer. "Hello?"
It was Pipp on the other end. "Sunny, we need help! The yard is a mess and the trucks aren't cooperating! Can you help us?"
"On my way," Sunny replied, as screaming could be heard in the background. "Keep doing what you're doing! I'll be back later!"
She sprinted out of the square as the Corporal rolled his eyes. "That was a mess. Keep marking time!"
It was utter mayhem on the dockside... again. Trucks and wagons were scattered haphazardly through numerous sidings and sitting all around the place. Sophie and Porter were trying to sort them into place, but the sheer volume of stock meant that it was taking ages.
"Who left this place in such a mess?" Pipp asked, as they tried to shift some vans wedged inbetween some tankers.
"I don't know," Izzy replied. "This is seemingly our lives now."
"Getting a bit of extra help would be a good start," Porter admitted.
Just then, Sunny skidded to a stop next to them- and promptly fell over. "Ow!" She got back up and dusted herself down. "Why is running in these things so hard?!"
"Don't just stand there, get Salty and help us with this mess!" Sophie begged.
Just then Charles arrived, and began laughing. "Having a spot of bother, are we?" he laughed. "And what's this? Sunny's playing at being a soldier? Never thought I'd see that day coming."
Zipp sighed. "I think I know what caused this."
Pipp looked back to her sister. "Don't just stand there, Zipp! Do something!"
Zipp nodded. "Sure. Goodbye." Charles promptly reversed away at great speed as Sunny ran for the shed as best she could.
Meanwhile, Hitch was busy manning the drinks stand. He had swapped his usual uniform for a Hawaiian shirt and brown slacks, and seemed to be having an easy time. "I don't know what Sunny was talking about," he said to himself. "This is the easiest job in the world. Just chuck some fruit in a blender and you're done."
"Excuse me?" compained a customer. "This isn't what I ordered. I asked for a strawberry and banana blend."
"That's what I gave you, isn't it?" Hitch asked.
"Nope. This lacks any raspberry seasoning, which Sunny usually adds."
Hitch grabbed a bottle and dumped something raspberry related into the cup. "That should do it."
Another person walked up. "Can I have my usual please?"
"What is that?" Hitch asked. "I don't usually man the stand."
"It's the drink I usually order."
"That doesn't help me."
"You're not talking enough!" said another person. "Sunny always engages us in light conversation when she makes smoothies and drinks."
"These people are all so demanding," Hitch grumbled.
"Can I get blue flavour?" asked a customer.
"Eh?"
"Your machine. Does it make blue flavour?"
Hitch was in a bind. He knew the machine was capable of producing those sorts of drinks, but not how to set it. He began pulling levers and pushing buttons to try and get the machine to output the correct results, which caused it to gurgle and bubble alarmingly.
Suddenly, all three nozzles blasted blue liquid at him, covering Hitch from head to toe in blue gunk. "This is awkward." He popped open the caps and saw the nozzles were full.
Zipp arrived moments later. "Turns out this whole job switch thing isn't working out for you."
Hitch was about to reply, but an incredibly loud crash from the direction of the dockyard attracted his attention.
Rebecca was off the line. She had derailed on some of the access points into the yard.
"What happened?" Sunny asked, as she checked the gauges.
"You took me over some points that are too tight for my wheelbase," Rebecca replied. "As a result, I derailed."
Sunny wiped her forehead from the accumulated sweat. "Why can't they design these cab controls logically? All these levers and chains and thingies and valves and whatsits!"
Just then, she heard a familiar engine spluttering and getting louder. The engine seemed to misfiring at points, which was odd to say the least.
She hopped out of the cab and slid down the cab steps to see Salty pulling up next to Rebecca. Hitch was at the controls, mostly covered in a strange blue substance. Salty was also coupled to the breakdown train.
"What happened?" she asked, as Hitch dismounted.
"I could ask the same of you," Hitch replied. "I take it running the section wasn't as simple as shouting at people."
Sunny hung her head and took her beret off. "Hitch, I'm sorry. I legitimately thought you had an easy time, but all those complex things and orders and formations to remember? You must be under a lot of strain. And as you can see I can't drive steam engines to save my life."
"In fairness, you don't have it easy either," Hitch replied. "I'm hopeless at running your stand or operating the machines."
"Well, I figured as much from the fact you're covered in blue milkshake," Sunny noted. "I guess we're both important to this town, just in different ways. Nobody can be Hitch like you can."
"And nobody can be Sunny like you can," Hitch smiled, looking ridiculous with more blue gunk sliding off his face. He raised his hand. "How about we put this behind us and use our own skillsets to clear this mess up?"
"You're on!" Sunny replied, and the duo immediately launched off into their secret handshake.
"Up high, down low, hitch it to a post! Flip it sunny-side up and on a piece of toast!"
And so, the crew got to work. Hitch assisted the work crew with getting Rebecca back onto the rails, whilst Salty and Sunny went shunting to try and clean up the mess in the yard. Once that task had been completed, Sunny returned to her stand and cleaned up the mess, including comprehensively de-gunking the nozzles on her milkshake maker, which had become clogged.
By that evening, the chaos was resolved. Sunny, looking more comfortable in her usual clothes, sat at a table in front of the seafront sharing some fish and chips with Hitch.
"I guess we both learned something important today," Sunny commented.
"Just because we do different jobs doesn't mean any one member of a community is less valuable than another," Hitch said. "It's the way we work together that helps our community function. It's a lesson I needed to learn too."
Sunny snorted. "It was a chaotic day, wasn't it? Seriously, how did you manage to make the milkshake machine spray like that?"
"Beats me," Hitch laughed. His face then went serious. "Wait a minute. You said you'd left the parade ground to help out in the dockyard. Did you dismiss the section first?"
"KEEP MARKING TIME!" the Corporal bellowed.
"For how much longer?" the Lance Corporal asked. "We've been marking time for hours!"