*Author's Note: I came up with the title and an idea for this story a year ago, but no matter how I tried to spin it, it just wasn't working.
I work with a retired Marine Corps colonel and two retired lieutenant colonels, and one of them was recently telling a story about a Marine colonel he once worked for when he was the commanding officer of a Low-Altitude Air Defense (LAAD) or Stinger missile battalion, in North Carolina. LAAD (pronounced 'lad') battalion is one unit in a Marine Air Control Group which is, in turn, part of a Marine Aircraft Wing.
Even then, I wasn't all that interested until he also mentioned a female major who was dating a male first lieutenant in the Control Group. I perked up and listened with interest as this retired colonel, who is the straightest shooter I know, talked about that and his former Group commander who was nothing short of a tyrant. This went on for nearly an hour as others asked questions and shared similar stories, but no one had ever worked for anyone that bad.
After thinking about it for a day or two, the story basically wrote itself using his true tale as the basis for it.
As with my other Marine-related stories, I remind readers that Marines say 'platoon commander' rather than 'platoon leader' and that time is 'zero-nine hundred' and never 'oh-nine hundred' and the word 'hours' is never used, either. Also, Marines wear 'covers' and not hats. (And for any Marine experts, take the time in service for promotion to colonel in this story with a grain of salt, okay?)
You won't need any more explanation to follow the story, but for those with some military background who are interested, this may be of further help. Otherwise, feel free to skip it and start the story!
Very briefly, there are four Marine Air Control Groups in the Marine Corps, one in each of the three Marine Aircraft Wings (which are not the same as an Air Force Wing but more like a numbered Air Force) and a reserve Group. There is one MACG on each coast and another in Okinawa. Within the Group are several squadrons and one battalion. LAAD battalion has been explained. The squadrons are:
The Marine Air Support (or MASS) squadron which links the infantry with the air wing via a shelter called the Direct Air Support Center or DASC. When 'grunts' need bombs on target, their radio call goes to the DASC and from there those who control the launching of the aircraft (via some other comm links.)
The Marine Air Control Squadron which has large radars that track aircraft and assist in aerial combat. It is the home of the Tactical Air Operations Center or TAOC. In the Marine Corps, this is what is meant by air defense. (The LAAD battalion provides anti-air warfare, NOT air defense like the Army calls it.)
The Marine Tactical Command Center or MTACC which is the senior agency from which the Wing Commander, a two-star general, fights the air war to support ground forces.
All squadrons and the battalion are commanded by a lieutenant colonel. The Groups are commanded by colonels. Keep in mind that lieutenant colonels are usually addressed as 'colonel'.
I'll explain other oddities as the occur. Confused yet? :-)
Other than that, I'll make sure to spell out acronyms and abbreviations (all ranks use USMC abbreviations, btw), and offer short explanations to keep the confusion to a minimum.
Above all else, it's a love story. I hope you enjoy it.
******
"Captain Kennedy. I'm LtCol Strader. Welcome aboard."
"Thank you, ma'am."
"I'm sure you're asking who you pissed off to get stuck with this job, but the fact is, you're now the new Group adjutant. This is unlike anything you've done in LAAD Battalion, but this is your mission. Oh, and before I introduce you to the Group Commander, let me warn you he's a no-nonsense kind of guy, okay?"
"Yes, ma'am," he replied again.
"As such, when I tell you to report to the Commanding Officer of Marine Air Control Group-28, you'll be expected to report."
"As in...standing at attention, ma'am?" the puzzled young officer asked.
LtCol Holly Strader was the Group Executive Officer. She'd been on active duty for just over 21 years and had recently been passed over for promotion several months back. She could try one more time, but the odds were stacked against her so she'd put in for retirement and would be doing so in another five months. Her boss, the Group Commander, Colonel Tom Clarke, had only recently been promoted to his present rank, but prior to that, he'd been junior to her by a year as she'd been commissioned in 1998 while he put on his gold bars a year later. But that was then and this was now, and the new colonel was in command and she wasn't.
The young captain sensed her discomfort even though she showed no visible indication as she said, "Exactly."
"Understood, ma'am," he told her.
"Other than that, pay careful attention to everything he says. You do not want to have to be told something a second time," she warned.
Again, the new adjutant replied as he just had with, "Understood, ma'am."
"Okay. Let's go meet the boss," she said as she stood up and came around to the front of her desk where the captain had been sitting.
Captain Josh Kennedy had been on active duty for just over six years, and the last time he'd stood at attention for anyone was at TBS, or The Basic School, in Quantico, Virginia.
TBS was a six-month school for all newly commissioned officers regardless of future MOS or Military Occupational Specialty. Future infantry officers, future pilots, lawyers, admin officers, supply officers, and everyone else went through the course to understand what the guy on the ground was going through. This experience created a bond between all officers of all MOSs and helped all of them understand the urgency of getting tasks done quickly and efficiently—especially when Marine lives depended on them.
The inside joke at TBS was that the second lieutenants going through the course were really 'third lieutenants'. They were commissioned officers, but the new officers often felt like they were treated more like Marine lance corporals than second lieutenants. It wasn't really true, but that's how it felt because they were all assigned to platoons with a Marine captain in charge called a Staff Platoon Commander or SPC, and captains at The Basic School may as well have been gods.
There wasn't any yelling. All of that ended with OCS or Officer Candidates School, but everything one's SPC suggested or requested was an order, and eager 2ndLts carried them out immediately and without question.
But here he was, six years later, having spent one of those years in Afghanistan where he was awarded the Bronze Star, about to report to his new commander at the position of attention like a third lieutenant.
The initial 'meet & greet' lasted about 20 minutes. Captain Kennedy spent the first five of those boring holes into the wall above the Group Commander's head as he stood in front of and centered on, the colonel's desk at the position of attention while being told in no uncertain terms what was expected of him. The last 15 minutes also were spent standing after the CO gave him permission to stand at ease. Even so, Josh Kennedy stood more at parade rest, never moving other than to answer, "Aye, aye, sir," or respond to some other expectation.
"Lastly," the colonel said, "the XO is your lifeline. As a primary staff officer, you have the right to come directly to me, but it better be damned important. Otherwise, you run everything, and I mean everything, through her. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," the captain replied clearly and quickly.
"Any questions for me?"
"None, sir."
"Very well. You're dismissed, young man. Now get to work."
The colonel looked back at the paperwork on his desk as Captain Kennedy snapped to attention before taking one step to the rear and executing an about face prior to marching out. Marines never saluted indoors (unless wearing a duty belt and a cover), so none was rendered.
LtCol Strader was waiting for him, and when she smiled, it took off a huge load of pressure.
"Intense, right?" she quietly said.
"You can say that again, ma'am," the relieved captain told her.
"Come on. Let me introduce you around to the rest of the staff," she said before pointing to the door that lead from the combined area where they and the CO each had offices.
The XO introduced the new 'adj' to the S-1 or admin officer, a Marine major, the S-2/Intelligence officer, also a major, the S-3/Operations Officer, a LtCol, and the S-4/logistics officer who was a major who'd recently been selected for promotion and who would be leaving to take command of a supply battalion at Camp Lejeune in another couple of months.
"As you know, I'm responsible for staff coordination, so while they all work directly for the CO, just as you and I do, everything runs through me."
The LtCol smiled again then quietly said, "And I mean everything."
"Yes, ma'am," a nervous Josh Kennedy replied as he nervously smiled, too.
As they walked back to their offices, the XO asked where he was from, whether or not he was married, and how he'd enjoyed his time with Second Low-Altitude Air Defense Battalion where Josh had been a platoon commander, a battery XO, and a firing battery commander.
"I'm from the Seattle area, ma'am. No wife, and I absolutely loved my time with LAAD Battalion," he told her trying to be accurate and succinct.
"I'm sure. I had a great time as an Air Defense Officer and was lucky enough to become a Senior Air Director and a detachment commander a couple of times. Unfortunately, I didn't screen for command, and as you know, if you don't command as a lieutenant colonel, you can forget about ever being a colonel."
"So what's next for you then, ma'am?" Josh asked her.
"Well, I'll be here until I retire in a few months. After that? I'm not sure yet."
They got back to the office complex when she said, "I went through a very messy divorce a year and a half ago, so I'm still trying to work out what to do with the rest of that part of my life, as well."
She smiled as she said it, and it was then that Josh confirmed what he already knew. LtCol Holly Strader was a very attractive woman. That wasn't unusual as nearly every female officer he'd ever met was at least reasonably attractive. There were definitely exceptions to the rule, but for the most part, female officers tended to be good looking, and Colonel Strader was way above average, especially for someone her age.
Her naturally blonde hair was pulled into a tight bun, but it looked to be about shoulder length. She had a very pretty face and because she'd been a runner her since high school and college, she still had a very firm body even at the age of 43.
Josh's thoughts were interrupted when she said, "I'm gonna go PT for lunch. Can you handle things by yourself yet?"
The truth was, he still didn't know up from down. Even the phone numbers of other staff officers were unknown to him. He had a list of them on his desk, but other than that, he'd never had any kind of administrative assignment before, and the combat veteran found himself feeling like a fish out of water.
"Yes, ma'am. No problem," he told her.
"Okay. Good. I've been here for four months, and I haven't gone home before 1800 once. I try and get in an hour before the CO, but he gets here at zero-six thirty, so lunch is the only time I can get a run in," she told him.
