005: Raciborz Intake

Our friend Clippie at his new job.  I hope.

The fellow with the clipboard was short, weedy and had a stick rammed right up his backside.  His uniform was clean and crisply turned out.  I'll bet even his collar was starched.  REMF.  He began, in broken English, "I here am for intake.  You will..."

REMF was interrupted by a UAZ and a squad of horsemen pulling up.  The driver, clad in worn American BDUs and a forage cap, ostentatiously locked the doors to his open-topped ride, and gave his escort a smile.  "Nice traveling with ya boys," he told them with a soft southern twang.  Looking our way, "Damn, what are you folks doing here?"

"Intake!" barked REFM, "IN-TAKE."

"Now, am getting your identity.  In rank order."  He poised his pencil over the clipboard.  "Name, Rank, Serial Number.  Who in charge?"

Arms folded Kat gives us a little nod.  "Katriona Paterson, Captain, 576-31-6800."

"I guess I'm next.  Alexandrea Miller, Major,  496-42-4548.

"Why you not command.  You think I stupid."

Kat interupted him, "She's medical branch.  Not a combat track.  I have overall command."

"Oh, she nurse."

Alexandrea muttered, "Doctor, thank you."

Next, looking around at us.  Points at Leo.  "You Sergeant."

Leo starts, glances down at his shoulder.  "Right, Leonid," holds his shirt so he can see his nametag, "Ramirez.  Leonid Ramirez!  Sergeant."  He smiles emptily.

"Serial Number."

"I forgit!"

"Lance Coproral Llewellan Chilson, 523-79-8223.  You Ass Marines."

"Donald McGillavery, Specialist, 123-12-9876."

Sigh.  "Eddie Cutter, Specialist, 503-10-3099."

"Dobry."  He's obviously rehersed the next bit as it comes out clean.  "Now if you have commited any crimes against the people of Polan...Urk!"

As we've been talking a ranker and a few staff types have moved over and been observing things.  One of them gobbles at the ranker as the REFM starts in on the crimes bit.  He reaches out and jerks REFM off his feet by the collar and onto his ass.  The Polish comes out fast and furious as he snatches the clipboard away.  "You hatchet faced little shit.  Go to the officer of the day and place yourself on report.  You will haul shit to the farms for a month.  Start fucking yesterday!"

REFM runs off.  The ranker geastures at himself.  "Major Stranski.  Anyone who translates?"

Leo volunteers and gets his translate on. "I apologize.  This is not the welcome intended for you and your troop.  Some have axes to grind.  His is not an attitude shared by us and he will be disiplined.  I will conduct the remainder of the interview.  We want to know who you are, what has happened and what your intentions are.  There are more comfortable seats in the hall.  Captain, I know you will not want to leave your vehicles.  Split your team as you will and we will have a civilized discussion."

"Thank you, Major" To us.  "Leo and Miller, you're with me.  Leave your long-arms.  Alphabit, you're in charge.  Let's go."