Squirrel Patrol: Thousand-Yard Stare

Old Fights, New Fights

The rest of the briefing continued and concluded with the patrol learning what they could about terrain, weather, expected resistance, and most importantly - what they were supposed to do. Nuts found yet another reason to not like this mission. They were supposed to do only reconnaissance. No attacks, no heroics, no engagement of any kind if possible. It didn't need to be said that if there was a screw-up, they were not to be taken prisoner.

They went as a group to evening mess, more or less quietly. The big tent was sparsely populated at this time. Soldiers in the rear had a tendency to eat first and get to the bars early for the choice pickings. The lieutenant had previously excused himself from the meal. He said he was going to round up the replacements. That worked well for Nuts, as he didn't want to share the lieutenant's company. The Sarge's squirrels were of a like opinion.

Roadkill spoke out first, between scoops of some grain-based mush. Mud might have made an improvement on the taste, but it hadn't stopped him for getting seconds. "Growing squirrel, you know.", he said. "Sarge, we get that we need leadership, and Holy Hesporo, do we need it. But, we've been on a whole lot of missions without him, and we got you. Why's he got to mess up a good thing?"

"RHIP, Road. Rank Has Its Privileges. Besides, he needs the experience. Yeah sure, he's been through basic, then command school. Then he gets dumped into a soft support job." Nuts paused a moment, sipping the chicory from the acorn cap. "Not necessarily his fault. He knows what he knows. Now it's up to us to teach him what we know."

Nibble stated plainly, "I'm a better student than a teacher, Sarge."

He finished his drink, stood up, and patted Nibble's shoulder. "Well, consider this a promotion - of a sort. We've got to help him where we can, without babying him. He's a little top-heavy right now. Hopefully, this trip will work some of that off. So, for the duration, we act appropriately and deal with it."

Nuts looked over his squirrels. Only Hespero knew what would happen in the future, and he wasn't talking. All that was left to do was to pack up for roll-out the next morning.

----

"I'm not getting on that thing!", said Jazz, angrily.

Roadkill was heaving up a bag of supplies to Nibble, who was stashing them into the cargo area of the carrier that lay across the horses' back. He turned back and scrunched down to where Jazz was sitting.

"Whooz afwaid ov a itty bitty horse?", he said to Jazz, in the voice of a parent talking to a child. "If Jazzie get off his ass and does something, maybe Jazzie will get a little treat!"

Jazz kicked out at Road, but missed. Road spun away and twirled into Sergeant Nuts.

"Road, don't bust his chops.", Nuts said, annoyed. Looking at Jazz he said, "If you don't conquer your fears, your fears will conquer you." Jazz didn't reply, looking at Nuts, then at the horse. Nuts added, "And if you don't get on the horse, take yourself over to the brig. Dereliction of duty. Failure to follow orders. Pissing me off, take your pick."

Jazz jumped up quickly, but not all due to the sergeants' threat. He snapped to attention and saluted. Road turned slightly and immediately followed Jazz. Lieutenants Itchy and Fern had arrived with three other mammals. Nuts and the officers exchanged salutes, Itchy somewhat stiffly, Fern and Nuts as if they were shooing away a fly.

Fern said to Jazz, "Given a choice Jazz, never piss a non-com off. It's easier to get off the horse than to get back in the sergeant's good graces." She finished off the sentence by looking at Nuts with a demure grin.

Nuts looked at the three enlisteds that joined their group. He didn't know whether to be sorry or angry first. If these were Itchy's idea of replacements... He let go of the emotion before it got him into trouble and sized them up.

The corporal was a big, burly looking, mottled gray possum. Properly groomed, his weapon - a 47 that appeared to be cared for, and his bearing suggested that he was at least, dependable. But there was something in the eyes that Nuts saw a hint of.

He dropped that thought at the sight of the two privates. They looked like the star billing of a sad road show troop. The hamster was unusually lean, almost gaunt. His fur was clean and didn't show signs of sickness or disease. He had a lazy walk that gave the impression that he was just passing through. A smirk on his face simply confirmed that idea.

The other private must have been the caretaker of the gang's illnesses. Nuts had met a number of weasels over time and none ever matched the stereotype they were labelled with. That's because this one was the label. The eyes, the fur, the stench! His distance and a quick breeze concluded his opinion.

Lieutenant Itchy must have caught a whiff of him, because he stepped back and presented them all with a little flourish. "Cpl. Basher, Pvts. Cowboy and Mange this is Sergeant Nuts, your new patrol leader; Sergeant, your new personnel." Corporal Basher stepped up to Nuts and raised his paw for the traditional fist knock greeting. Nuts replied in kind, and for his effort, Basher punched his fist solidly into Nuts.

Nuts didn't flinch at the attack, but withdrew slowly, put his paw behind his back and tried flexed the pain out of his paw. That fixed it for Nuts, confirming his suspicion from earlier; the guy was a brawler. And then he saw something else on the possum's backpack. Pinned near a strap was a silver pin. First Lieutenant. 'Son of a Crow.', Nuts mumbled. A busted officer. This deal just gets better every minute.

Nuts spoke indirectly to his squirrels, "Road, Jazz; take them over and load their gear. Gather the others for a meet and greet."

Itchy jumped in, "Sergeant, I wanted to have a mission briefing with the patrol as soon as possible."

"Yes sir, no problem.", he replied. He turned to update Road, when Itchy interrupted again.

"Now, Sergeant Nuts.", he said, irritation creeping into his voice.

Nuts sighed, hopefully not too noticeably. This time he just waived his arm at Road. "You heard the squirrel, fuzzy butt. Move it!"

Road scampered off on the double. He'd prefer to get hopelessly lost gathering the team than come back, but if the Lieutenant was going to be like this on the mission, Sarge was going to need all their help to control his temper. Or prevent the lieutenant's murder.

Jazz didn't move off after Road. Instead, he stepped up to the lieutenant and gestured to where the last of the supplies waited for loading. "Sir, I think this would be a good spot for you to give us our briefing." Said with just the right amount of subservience, Itchy reacted positively, and was led away.

Nuts looked at his new charges. They looked back at him. "Well?", Nuts shouted. "You heard the looie! Quit pickin' fleas and get going!" The two privates looked to Basher, who shrugged and carried his gear over to the pack animals. They meekly followed him.

Throughout the minor drama, Fern maintained a discreet distance from the group. Now, she moved closer to Nuts and tried to reassure him.

"Think happy thoughts now, Sarge. Like how easy it would be for Itchy to become 'missing in action'. Or Mange's weapon misfires and catches Basher in the butt."

He managed a short, quiet laugh at her suggestion. "What did I do to deserve such a situation?" Looking at her eased his anger a bit, but he was still frustrated. "And having you along for the ride isn't going to make my job any easier."

She straightened up a bit, before moving off. "I can handle myself just fine.", she said with mock indignation. Looking over her shoulder, she gave him a personal leer. "And when we get back, I'll be ready to handle a certain noncom."