The New Lieutenant Ch 01

Chapter 1: SWO Much to Do, SWO Little Time

We stood at parade rest, hands in the small of our backs and feet apart, in the warm light of the armory's gymnasium. Grey bricks and a track overhead put the peripheries in shadow as we stood awaiting the arrival of our new staff for the semester. Suddenly, the large black wooden doors creaked and moaned at their task of opening once more as the Naval Battalion staff officers and NCO's sauntered in; they walked in at ease, no marching or formation, as was customary of their easy work. The midshipman Master Chief Petty Officer faced about to address the formation, and instructed in his command tone.

"Fall in!"

We came to attention, and the midshipman master chief faced about once more, receiving instruction from the staff. Turning to us, he gave the order to fall out and form a school circle. We left our formations behind, and gathered around him in a semi-circle, freshmen in front and seated, the rest (myself included) standing at relaxed parade rest behind. We looked forward to the crowd of officers, and saw some new faces. Our staff CO, a Marine Corps Colonel and ex Cobra pilot, addressed us with a half-hoarse voice.

"It's my privilege to introduce to you our new Naval Science instructors for this term. You will of course treat them with the utmost respect, and learn as much as you can. I personally guarantee their teaching ability, and I know they're going to be a great addition to our battalion. I'll leave them to make the more personal details clear."

He stepped back, and two younger officers stepped forward, in new Navy Working Uniforms, a blue digital camouflage we'd only read about in magazines.

"These must be fresh from the fleet proper," whispered a friend of mine. I could only muster a faint grunt of affirmation.

The one on the right, a male Lieutenant, stepped up and spoke first.

"I'm Lieutenant Gerhardt. Before this, I worked Subs. Juniors, fall out on me directly following this, I've got some things to discuss with you, about contracting and commissioning."

"Aye-aye, sir," came the response from the Juniors in our midst. LT Gerhardt backed up, and the finer of the two new faces approached our half-moon cluster. A kind, inviting face topped by dark blonde hair, and a slim body that showed its niceties even under the NWU? It wasn't something our battalion was familiar with, but not at all something with which we were displeased.

"I'm Lieutenant Junior Grade Birch. I'll be taking over your previous Surface Warfare Lieutenant's position, instructing Navigation to all you Sophomores. I look forward to seeing you, Monday morning."

We didn't respond, simply stood and listened. I was dumbfounded, really, that a Naval Officer could sound so down-to-earth when she spoke, especially one this good-looking.

"Oh, and...don't be late," she added as a last-minute quip before turning and walking back to join her fellow officers. The way she swayed her hips slightly with her gait, it wasn't too refined, but decidedly feminine.

After a quick "Fall back in, Alpha," we were on our way back to barracks, minds full of recent events, new possibilities. Myself and my two roommates reached our room, and stepped in to once again behold the stark accommodations the private military college afforded us. I sat down at my desk, as did my friend Flint at his own. Gats simply flopped down onto his bed, hands behind his head in contemplation.

"So," I began, "I think we need to have a word..."

"...about that new officer? Shit." Flint cursed as he whipped open a drawer and withdrew an apple. He took a small bite out of it, chewed it thoughtfully, and tossed it to Gats, who looked at it quizzically.

"Birch? She's a piece of work alright. I don't know if she's aged too well, though."

"But even if you say that, she's a cut above what I expect in a Navigation professor," I mused, motioning for the apple. I caught it, and took a large bite. I let my vision drift out the window, simply staring as I closed and opened my grip in my free hand. An idle gesture of mine, but my friends snickered to themselves as they watched me daydream.

Flint jumped up from his chair, and dropped to one knee in front of Gats on the lower bunk, putting a hand over his heart and reaching the other out pleadingly.

"Oh, LTJG Birch, 'tis I, Midshipman Hutchison. I've...admired you from afar for far too long. Please, accept this humble confession of my infatuation, and go out on a date with me!"

I turned from my reverie with a leer, and chucked the apple back at Flint. It ricocheted off the back of his head with a 'thwack,' and hit the floor harmlessly.

"It's nothing like that. And I don't sound that melodramatic, not even talking with the females."

Gats put a hand over his mouth in mocked surprise, and cradled Flint's head in his arms as he feigned the JG's voice.

"Midshipman Hutchison, pay no heed to that ruffian. I'm more than willing to return your feelings. Please, follow me to the Wardroom for a...debrief."

He pushed Flint away, to slow sarcastic applause. Flint retook his spot at his desk, apple in hand.

"Hutch, we're just jerking your chain. Besides, we don't even know anything about the woman yet."

"Yeah," I muttered. "That's why I'm actually looking forward to classes tomorrow."

********************

Monday morning 0800 saw the sophomores of the Naval Battalion down to the basement of the Armory for their Navigation class. I sat in the front row, between Flint and Gats, and we waited a few minutes for the arrival of our new instructor. At 0804, there was a commotion outside, to which we all quieted down to listen.

"Sorry, *bump* oh, excuse me Sergeant. *shuffle* ...let's see, 119...121! *whack* Ow..."

We all looked towards the door as it opened, and LTJG Birch hurried in, a small red scrape on her forehead.

"Sorry I'm late, there was a jam trying to print out the muster sheet, and..." She must have noticed our eyes on her forehead, and rubbed the spot comically. "Plus, uh...I hit my head on the door trying to weave in and out of those Marines out there. Regardless! Let's start with the muster report. ...Actually," she said, eyes scanning the class, "I need someone in here to be your class representative, to take accountability for me each morning, make sure everyone's present." Her eyes snapped onto Gats, who looked back with a raised eyebrow through his glasses.

"You there, Midshipman, uh..."

"Gats, Ma'am."

"Gats, right. You look smart, how about being class rep for this semester?"

"Well, I," he began, and she smiled endearingly back at him, cocking her head to the side. "...Aye-aye, Ma'am."

She clapped her hands together contentedly. "That's the spirit! Today, Midshipman Gats, you'll be spearheading the muster report. Think you can tell me who's missing off this list?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

He stood up and turned around, scanning the list of names and checking them against our classmates sitting throughout the room. It was an easy duty, as we all knew each other from previous classes together. I chuckled to myself, and LTJG Birch wheeled around suddenly.

"...Is there something funny, ...Hutchison?"

"Well, you say 'spearheading' as though it's something exciting, but accountability's a bit...mundane, Ma'am."

Putting a hand under her chin in a cliché gesture, she thought for a second.

"Yes, I did say 'spearheading,' didn't I... Well, out in the fleet, you'll hear that term applied to a bunch of things, none of them too exciting. "Birch, you're spearheading the camera for today, take some good shots for my family" and stuff like that. Some CO's are all over the term. Sorry to disappoint you."

The class had a laugh at that, and I spoke for us all in reply.

"Not at all, Ma'am. In fact, we're all a bit curious as to just what goes on out in the fleet. No one's really told us anything."

"Really?"

Heads shook glumly all across the room.

"Well, sometimes you get really exciting times, like when you're Conning Officer for the day even though you're unqualified, and the Captain tells you to make 5 Knots astern good, and you give the orders to the lee helmsman who sounds the astern propulsion signal, but the wires get crossed and they sound five short whistles instead of three, and then everyone in the channel starts slowing down and getting on the bridge-to-bridge, like 'shit shit USS Anzio, what is the nature of your distress!? Please advise!' and then you..."

Her voice trailed off as she realized the blank stares on our faces. We were amazed at the way lingo and acronyms flowed out of her, dumbfounded and in awe of the power.

"Uh, is something wrong? Don't tell me you've heard this story before."

Flint raised his hand.

"Ma'am, I think I speak for the class when I say that I didn't understand a single thing you just said."

She put a hand on her forehead, and shook her head in dismay.

"I've got my work cut out for me, I guess." She slammed a hand back into the chalkboard, and brought the other up in front of her in a tight fist. "Never mind that! I'll teach you everything you need to know! I'm a Surface Warfare Officer, after all, and a SWO's mission is to know their job and perform it to the utmost at any time! And right now, you're my mission. I'll make sailors out of you yet. Now, as for my background..."

We listened intently as she explained her previous career in the Navy, and even the events leading up to it, a story that occupied the rest of class.

******************

Flint, Gats, and myself walked back up the hill to barracks after class, still scratching our heads over our new instructor.

"I just don't know about this. What do you think, class rep?" Flint elbowed Gats in the side playfully, using his title jokingly.

"She's the only staff officer we've had who's not an Academy graduate. She failed out of regular college. Twice."

"That might be a reason she seems old. A couple extra years," I suggested, letting my voice trail.

"Yeah," Flint picked up. "A few years full of shady dealings, probably. Back home, pops always used to tell me, 'boy, you best be on yer guard, 'gainst them gals, what've gone about sexually, gettin all loose and used up. They's bad fer business, got me?'"

I gave him a light hit on the back of the head.

"What the hell? You don't go around calling Naval Officers 'used up.' Isn't that right, class rep?"

Gats looked up from our new navigation textbook he was perusing.

"Yeah, no, you don't do that. Some people just age differently; it doesn't mean she's a loose woman. ... And stop calling me 'class rep' already."

Flint pouted, crossed his arms.

"Maybe. Either way, she ain't bad. I'd put it in her butt, for sure. Am I right?"

We merely sighed our mutual disgust. Flint just pouted harder, crossed his arms higher as he walked ahead of us.

"Oh, fuck you guys, I know you think it too."

"Yes, but not in such eloquent words," Gats called out to Flint's back. Flint held his hands over his head, and clapped them twice in rapid succession.

"Hooyah, Class Rep!"

******************

Wednesday morning, and it was time for Navigation once more. Only the second class in, and we'd been assigned a large chunk of our textbook for reading. 70 pages of technical reading was a steep request for two nights' time, and on the way to class we collectively shared our concerns.

"How far did you get, Hutch?"

"Only about halfway... The whole part about Geoids and Ellipsoids just stopped me cold."

"Huh," Flint responded. "And you, class rep?"

"To page 50, but I fell asleep."

"That's what you get for reading in bed, I guess," Flint quipped, patronizingly.

"Oh yeah? Well how far did you read, Mister motivator?"

"None at all!" He threw up a dramatic thumbs-up for good measure. We shook our heads.

"You know," sighed Gats through clenched teeth, "this Navigation class is supposed to be difficult. I don't think you can slide through by copying our notes like you did last semester in Naval History."

"Don't worry, it'll be fine. That is, if JG's the kind of person I think she is..."

We looked over, quizzical of the devious look on our friend's face as we walked down the armory hallway.

"How many times do we have to tell you, she's not used--"

I stopped dead in my words as Birch herself emerged from an administrative office right in front of us. She looked at us, and I feared she might have heard what I'd said already. I was ready to play it off as talking about a female midshipman, until...

"Oh, good morning, Ma'am!"

Thank God for the class rep, I thought to myself. She smiled as Flint and I also greeted her.

"Good morning, Shipmates! I hope you're ready for Navigation, because I've got a great first lesson planned out! Well then...run along. Carry on, I mean."

We shifted out of the way, and she walked off happily, pulling her arms behind her in a stretch as she ambled down the corridor.

"How is she so cheery?"

"Yeah, and she called us all 'shipmates.' Isn't this state landlocked?"

"That it is, Flint. Not that you mind being called shipmate, I'm sure."

"Trust me, class rep, it's not the kind of 'mate' I wanna be to her."

Another pair of sighs in perfect unison, and we continued to the classroom.

*****************

We sat down just as LTJG Birch entered the room, and this time took an official stance at the podium.

"Good morning!"

"Good morning, Ma'am," came the enthusiastic refrain from our midshipman class.

"Well then, class rep? Where're my numbers?"

"All present and/or accounted-for, Ma'am," Gats said, standing to deliver the report.

"Very well! Now, about this lesson. Who enjoyed last night's reading?"

No one raised their hands; it had, after all, been pretty dry. Suddenly, Flint nudged me, whispered to me.

"Hey Hutch, take an eye." His hand shot up, and a confident grin crossed his face.

"Yes, Midshipman Flint! Do tell, what did you like about last night's assignment?"

"Well Ma'am," he began, "I found the whole part about charts interesting."

"...charts?"

"Yes Ma'am, particularly the, uh, abbreviations, the markings..."

"The legend, and the scales?"

"Exactly. And those pointy things, for drawing circles..."

"Dividers?"

"That's it, dividers, it was on the tip of my tongue. Yes Ma'am, all that was very educational, I feel like I'm starting to get this whole navigation thing."

He sat back in his chair, and faced me with a self-satisfied nod. I leaned over to him, and whispered back.

"You're a brave, brave fool, Flint. You didn't say a god-damned thing."

"Yeah," he drawled, oozing false bravado even through his whisper, "but I look damn good doin' it."

We turned back to the front, where LTJG Birch had started to draw up diagrams on the board.

"Now I know I'm no artist," she said with some disappointment as she turned to reveal an odd, cornered oval, "but try to imagine this as a ship, viewed from above. See that pointy bit? That's the bow. Now, who wants to come up to the front and label navigation light arcs on this diagram? I just need masthead lights, sidelights, and a stern light. ... No one?"

I raised my hand tentatively. This was one part I had actually understood well, and I didn't mind taking the risk. As I approached the board, she turned back to the class.

"Only one midshipman has the tenacity?

The class laughed a bit at that, to Birch's confusion.

"Be careful, Hutch," Flint called to me. "People have died!"

She looked down to Gats, who seemed the only one capable of saving face.

"Did I say something?"

"Yes Ma'am," he said while adjusting his glasses. "You should probably avoid the word 'tenacity' altogether. Bit of an inside joke."

"Noted." She stomped a foot hard onto the deck, and forcefully sounded off, "At Ease." We all snapped back from our laughs, and sat up straight, attentive once more.

She turned back to the board, where I had completed the diagram, labeling where each light would go, the arcs at which they were visible. "Yep, looks all squared away. Good work, Hutchison. Have a seat."

For the rest of class, we learned the theory behind the reading; the basic premises of navigating, and the members of the bridge team. Though it was clear that Birch had a firm grasp on the practice of navigation and real experience, she still had difficulty relaying such knowledge to her students. After another forty minutes, we were dismissed, and went about our other classes and daily duties. However, for those of us enrolled in Navigation, our thoughts just couldn't stray too far from our fledgling professor Birch.

****************

Author's Note: Thank you for reading the first chapter of what I hope to make a successful, entertaining story. Honestly, this came out a little more comedy than my original intent, but I like what it's become. Whether you cared for this or not, I'd certainly appreciate your comments and ratings. Please, you have no idea how much authors strive for comments on their work, so they can improve! (And if you are an author, surely you know what I mean!) Look forward to the next installment, and thanks again.

--Unannehmlichkeiten