Arlen's Gun by Edgar Doleman

Author:Edgar Doleman [Doleman, Edgar]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781665508599
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Published: 2020-11-30T05:00:00+00:00

Lieutenant Colonel George Short sat at a table in the battalion headquarters mess tent, which he used as a conference room for staff meetings and briefings. His elbows rested on the table, hands laced together, chin resting on his hands, and his eyes fixed on a burned-out bulb dangling from the peak of the tent. He had received an order from Second Corps to expedite the clearing of the road to Chu Song so that the heavy artillery battery now at Fire Base Chrome near Xanh La could deploy to Chu Song. He had immediately replied that the unit on that mission was recovering from the mission to rescue the downed air crew, but Second Corps didn’t seem impressed. He’d then protested that all his assets were committed. He would need more to expedite opening the road to Chu Song. He was told that Second Corps realized he was overcommitted and that he was to reallocate his assets based on the new priorities, and if he still needed more, to ask.

Colonel Short had also received Lieutenant Hanley’s list of issues, needs and concerns—or, as he thought of them, his list of whines. He had not received a suitable report on the loss of the CEV, which reinforced his intuition that the story was not a good one. He had called a staff meeting to deal with the issues and had arrived early for several reasons. The weather was oppressive, and the mess tent had a good fan. A fresh pot of coffee had been brewed, and he wanted a cup before it started to get stale. Lastly, he wanted time to think through how he would handle matters. He did not want to appear indecisive.

Presently, his staff began to arrive, get coffee or a soda, and take their seats. His sergeant major arrived first, followed by his senior staff. His executive officer, who would normally facilitate such meetings, especially if briefings were involved, was thoughtlessly on R&R leave in Hawaii. Half a dozen junior officers and noncommissioned officers pulled up chairs behind their bosses. The last to arrive was his logistics officer, or S-4. As the S-4 settled his bulk onto a chair, the sergeant major rose and rumbled in a voice that seemed to come from deep in his large barrel chest and that could probably have been heard in Hanoi, “Sir, the staff is present.”

“Thank you, Sergeant Major. Gentlemen—”

The sergeant major interrupted. “Sir, should the S-2 give an update?”

“Oh. Of course. Polk?”

Lieutenant Harry Polk, the S-2, or intelligence officer, jumped to attention. “Sir! No real change in the weather forecast. Continued heavy overcast, intermittent rain. Sometime in the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours another tropical storm will arrive, hitting us as heavy rain. No change in enemy activity reports. No new activity reported in our areas of concern.”

“Road to Chu Song? QL-99?”

“Nothing new, sir.”

“What about that earlier report, where was it, northeast of Xanh La?”

“No updates on that, sir. Have to assume no movement.”

“Right. S-1?” But before the

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