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"You've- I'm very happy to hear that, sir. Thank you."
"Happy. I remember that. I'm jealous, son. Excuse me, I must attend to the colonel. Be true."
He turned away, hurrying to catch up to Colonel Seng, ending the conversation.
* * * *
The brigade made practice marches interspersed with combat training. Jolla's command, including Valentine's company, was often matched against the rest of the brigade.
After one of these skirmishes, the Guard lieutenant colonel Gage sat Valentine in his command car, a beat-up old Humvee with an oversized bed and extra brackets that allowed it to double as an ambulance.
"Goddamit, Major, our boys are supposed to win. How are they supposed to build confidence when your glorified chicken wranglers burn a couple dozen of them?"
"Tell your junior officers that just because an area's been checked for mines, it doesn't mean I can't go back and replant after they've passed through," Valentine said. "My orders were to delay your march on Red Ridge."
Valentine wanted to add that if Daniels would keep his companies in closer contact, Valentine wouldn't have had time to mine their road, but that would be presumptuous.
"You could act a little more like Quislings. They always fall back in the face of superior numbers. They don't hunker down and let the first wave get past."
"I know, sir," Valentine said.
Gage cooled down. He'd obviously just been chewed on by Seng, who was pushing the brigade like a madman. "They still calling your guys the shit detail?"
"I haven't heard it in a while," Valentine said.
"Got to hand it to you, though. After the last time getting at those Grogs of yours with the auto 50s, everyone figured we hadn't run into your boys yet because they hadn't started sniping.
Weren't you staff at one timer"
"Supposed to be. An old ghost caught up to me and I never made it."
"Sorry to boil up on you like that. I'm glad you'll be on our side when we march up-country."
* * * *
As January turned to February, a big duffel bag arrived, labels and identifying inking scrawled all over it. It turned out to be all the way from Pacific Command.
Valentine read the letter in the waterproof courier pouch stitched onto the canvas: Valentine,
After many wanderings your goods surfaced and I became aware of their existence. I promptly inventoried and dispatched them to Denver, courtesy of a liaison, and I'm confident they'll make it to Southern Command before too many more months pass.
Been seeing a lot of your friend Gide. She's got a mouth on her but she's turning into a dead shot witch of the woods. They're talking about putting me into GHO up here and if that happens I might see about a ring for the end of those snake tattoos. She lost three toes and a chunk of buttock t0 a mortar round, so she's off the A-active list but is recovering nicely. She sends a kiss and wants to know if you're still musky. I won't be ungentlemanly and speculate.
Please accept your property with my compliments and apologies for the delay. What the hell is that thick leathery material, anyway? If you've got any to spare I'd like some for a jacket, Yours in the Cause
J. LeHavre, Colonel
Pacific Command
His old legworm leathers, gear, and sword had been wrapped up in a waterproof, but someone had made off with his boots either before it was turned over to LeHavre or along the road. Valentine wished their new owner's feet well.
The thief, if there had been a thief, missed a stiffened cuirass of cross-grained Reaper cloth, light and breathable and yet strong enough to stop a rifle round.
He looked at the sword. Some craftsman had put a new sharkskin grip on it-at least he thought it was sharkskin; it might have been roughed up big mouth-which was just as well as the old woven one had been getting ragged and bloodstained. He looked closer. There was a tiny little G inked just under the hilt cap next to the stitching. Now that he knew what to look for, he found a similar initial stitched just inside one of the interior side's many map pockets.
Nice to have a souvenir of his best memories of the Cascades.
Valentine noticed that she hadn't returned the old Steyr Scout. He didn't regret it-she'd probably make better use of it than he could.
