A New World Begins

The Wright thing to do

Travis threw his daypack across the dorm and onto his bed, calling out, “Yes! Direct hit!” as it landed squarely in the middle of the mattress.

Shane walked over to his own bed space adjacent to Travis’s and smiled. “You know, we must be the last dorm in the college to get back to normal. Everybody else was back in lessons as usual yesterday while we were still tidying up over in the pavilion now the Guard have gone.”

“Not quite back to normal for us yet, look,” said Travis, pointing towards the corner of the room, “It looks like Kyle is still here, those are his things on Nat’s old desk in the corner. Kind of more like, ‘back to old times’ before Nat took over.”

The door opened again and Will and Noah entered, each carrying a bag and making for their own bed spaces. Will almost collapsed onto his bed and exclaimed. “Wow, a real bed again at last instead of those camp cots. This dorm is no match for my bedroom at home but it’s like a luxury hotel compared with the week I’ve just spent in the fire station, not to mention the last couple of days over in the pavilion.”

Shane nodded. “I don’t think I ever want to shovel snow and slush again. Especially slush.”

“We’d best get this room sorted though, before Nat gets here, said Travis. “He’ll expect it to be perfect even if we haven’t used it for ten days.  He’ll find some dust somewhere and blame us for it.”

“Or wet boot prints across the floor,” chuckled Will, looking particularly towards Travis’s bed space. “We had the sense to take our boots off down in reception and carry them, didn’t we, Noah?”

Noah nodded and started towelling his boots dry before arranging them carefully under the end of his bed.

“I think I’m going to go and have a nice warm shower,” said Travis. “Maybe even pop upstairs and use the baths for a change. I really could do with a nice long soak. Get warm, relax, ease all my aching muscles before we go over to dinner.”

“Oh, I need to tell you all,” said Will as he rolled over onto his side to face Travis, “We’re all to stay in uniform for dinner. Nat sent a message to me just before I finished at the pavilion, said to pass it on to all of you.”

“Why?” asked Shane. “We don’t usually wear uniform to dinner, it’s nearly always smart casuals. Except on special parade days and things like that. Today’s a Wednesday, so a sports day normally.  Even more casual on a Wednesday because people are often coming from sports late.”

“I don’t know,” said Will. “I just got the message to pass on. It was from Artilleryman Kier, but he didn’t say why. I don’t think he knew. Just that Nat said so.”

“Nat’s probably got some more tidying up tasks for us to do if he’s keeping us in uniform,” said Shane. “Getting every possible ounce of work out us before we get back to normal.”

“Well, I’ve decided,” said Travis. “I’m going for a bath before dinner anyway. I’ll just have to put my uniform on again after. Anybody else want me to turn on a bath for them while I’m up there. You’ll need to follow me up quick though so it doesn’t overflow.”

“Not for me,” said Will. I’m just going to lie here until dinner if I don’t need to get changed into smarts.”

“Not me,” said Noah.

“Or me,” added Shane. “I think I should polish my boots, try and get the salt marks off them. I’ll try and clean yours up too, Travis, if you leave them down here.”

* * *

“It looks like we’re the only ones in uniform,” said Shane as the guys arrived in the ante room about fifteen minutes before dinner was due to commence. “Everyone else is just in smarts as usual.”

“Not everyone,” said Will, “Artilleryman Hawke is over there having a coffee and he’s in uniform. He wouldn’t normally be. I’ll go and see why and if he knows what is going on.”

“Let’s all go,” said Travis. “There’s room in that alcove for us all and some spare chairs. You go ahead, me and Noah will go and get us some coffees. Same as usual, everyone?”

“Hi David,” said Will as he and Shane crowded in around Artilleryman Hawke. “Did you get told to be in uniform too? Do you know why? Has Nat got more jobs for us to do? Is Paul Kier here? He told us we had to be in uniform. Direct from Nat, he said.”

“Slow down, Will,” laughed Artilleryman Hawke. “We’re not doing data burst transmissions now.”

“Do you know why, though?” asked Shane. “We don’t.”

“We’re having dinner with the Commandant, in his private dining room,” said Artilleryman Hawke. “Captain Davis sent the invitation out. Apparently, now the weather emergency is over, the Commandant is holding a review to find out where the college did well and where we might be able to improve. Jackson is going to write a report on how things went in the Situation Room and the liaison with the Guard and all that stuff, and Lieutenant Masters is going to write a report on how the college itself coped with all the changes we had to make to keep classes going in parallel with the work groups and stuff. But because writing a report will take time, the Commandant wanted an informal briefing on the key issues right away.”

“So how does that involve us?” asked Shane.

“Because,” came Nathan’s voice from behind them, “You were right there in the thick of everything that was going on, and so can provide a perspective from the ground level as well as the top-down view that Jackson and Kyle can give. Plus, I think, the Commandant may want to thank you personally for all the effort you put in, so he’s invited our squad to join the dinner too. Along with Kier and Hawke, who worked for Noah in the pavilion when we were all out having fun in the snow. I would have told you the full story earlier, but I’ve been busy on a few other things.”

Will and Shane looked at each other in surprise, not least because neither had seen Nathan approach.

“How do you do that, Nat? Just spring up on people? Craig was right about you being a werewolf or vampire or whatever type of ghosty thing does that…”

Nat laughed. “You can ask Noah about that, he’s the expert on the supernatural. Here he comes with Travis and your drinks. You can break the news about dinner to them too. I’ll see you all soon by the door to the Commandant’s Dining Room when everyone else goes in for dinner. I just need to go and do a few things.”

* * *

“It’s quite impressive in here,” said Will as he led the way into the Commandant’s dining room. “I guess all the people in the photos must be previous Commandants. I like how they change from black and white to colour photos. Gives a sense of history.”

“And Cadet Captains too,” said Shane. “Looks like they get a picture in here along these two walls. There are way more of them than Commandants. Jackson must be next.”

Noah smiled. “Yes, but he’s not having a photo. He’s going back before even the black and white photos, to when they had paintings or drawings. He’s asked if I’ll do a portrait of him to put in here.”

“We’re to sit at this end of the table guys,” said Nathan, who had followed them in. “Any of the places without a reserved card is fine. The Commandant will sit at the head of the table and Jackson will be down here at this end directly opposite him. The few reserved seats are for some guests, and for Kyle. They’ll all be along shortly. Until then, feel free to browse around.”

A few minutes later the door at the far end of the room opened quietly, very quietly, but not quietly enough. Travis was the first to notice the slight sound and the initial movement of the door, and called out “Officer Present” as Kyle opened the door and then stepped aside to allow the Commandant and his guests to enter. All the guys in Bensinger Squad turned sharply to face the door and snapped smartly to attention where they stood.

“Thank you, gentlemen,” smiled the Commandant, “Please, stand easy, this is an informal event tonight. Now, may I introduce our guests for the evening. Miss Lorna Delville from KWT-TV, ‘The Traffic Lady’, I am sure you already know, and some of you are also perhaps familiar with one of our College Governors, Lieutenant General Carstairs, the senior National Guard officer in this region. Finally, but by no means least, this gentleman is Mr James Thomas, the husband of the lady that you all so ably assisted reach hospital just a while ago after the birth of their baby girl.”

Kyle and Jackson had followed the Commandant and his guests into the room and now directed them to their seats, James Thomas and Lorna Delville to sit at the head of the table to either side of the commandant and General Carstairs to sit alongside Jackson at the foot of the table. Kyle took the corresponding place opposite General Carstairs with Jackson, leaving the remaining seats along each side of the table free for Bensinger Squad and the two artillery cadets, Hawke and Kier.

Everyone remained standing for a moment until The Commandant and Miss Delville sat down, then followed suit. Travis, sitting next to Shane, whispered quietly. “Thanks for polishing my boots, Shane. It’s good you did; Jackson’s eyes didn’t miss anything as he came in.”

“I think,” said the Commandant as two of the serving staff entered from the kitchen corridor door, “We should order before beginning our discussions. I can heartily recommend the braised ribs.” He turned to Lorna Delville and smiled. “The food we eat in here is exactly the same as is served to the students next door in the main dining room, but we are fortunate in being served rather than having to queue for it at the counter.”

Travis was already glancing down the menu and choosing his courses. “I’m having the pate, Shane, followed by the ribs – the Commandant is right about those – and then the apple pie seasoned with raisins and cinnamon. Do you think I’ll get extra ribs if I ask? I get extra at the counter if I ask. I don’t know if it’s the same in here.”

“I’m sure you will,” said Nat, overhearing him. “I think by now all the waiting staff and servers know you are a greedy pig.”

“I’m not a greedy pig,” said Travis indignantly, “I just need lots of protein to build muscles. And carbs for energy. I intend to win the wrestling championship this year for my class.”

“It’s right,” said Will. “Travis has actually about the perfect BMI for a wrestler. There isn’t actually any fat on him, just muscle. Just different muscle to a swimmer. Or a boxer. There are different types of body. Travis is a mesomorph, he’s…”

“Okay Professor,” chuckled Nat, “Let’s just order and then hear what the Commandant has to say.”

“Now, before our food arrives,” said the Commandant, “I think I ought to say a few words. Mr Thomas is here because he’s expressed a wish to meet and thank the cadets who helped his wife reach hospital. Miss Delville is here to do some background research for a forthcoming television feature that KWT-TV are planning to run about the college, and General Carstairs is here to learn a little about how we supported the National Guard deployment during the weather emergency. Perhaps, Cadet Captain Davis, you’d like to identify to Mr Thomas the cadets who helped his wife?”

Jackson smiled and took a sip of water from the crystal glass in front of him. When all heads and attention were focused on him, he spoke.

“I think we ought to recognise that all the cadets around this table played their part in that particular, and I understand, very successful, tasking. Naturally, Sergeant Bauer and cadets Lundgren and Larson were the ones seen on television, ably marshalling the television studio’s helicopter to the landing site and aiding Mrs Thomas and her baby on their journey to hospital. That was, of course, after they had assisted the paramedics reach Mrs Thomas in the first place, with cadets Lundgren and Larson, skiing ahead with vital medical supplies.”

“I’m truly grateful to all three of you,” said Mr Thomas as Shane, Travis and Nat tried not to blush.

“However,” said Jackson before Mr Thomas could continue, “I’m sure the Commandant would wish me to point out that the gleaming point of any spear has behind it a long logistics and support chain, frequently unsung, but essential for the successful completion of any task. In this case, we have to recognise that none of what was achieved would have been possible without the support of Artilleryman Will Brooke who had established a liaison post and communications network, allowing him to coordinate the many messages flowing between the National Guard, police, ambulance and fire services. When the message came through that an ambulance was stuck in the snow, it was Will Brooke who saw the problem and alerted Sergeant Bauer to the need for action. It was Brooke’s background work on communications systems that allowed a message to be passed back to us here at the college where Artilleryman Noah Mason stepped up and passed the message to me and the National Guard Officers co-ordinating the Governor’s response to the weather emergency. We were then able to task Sergeant Bauer to intervene, and to short circuit the bureaucracy and get a message to the nearest helicopter.”

“That’s correct,” said Nat. “Myself and cadets Lundgren and Larson were the ones who were seen on television, who the public think of as heroes, but the efforts of the people behind the scenes, planning, co-ordinating, facilitating are rarely recognised. Without Captain Davis commanding and heading up our college’s response, without Acting Corporals Brooke and Mason doing the communications and liaison, without Artillerymen Hawke and Kier doing all the seemingly mundane support work, the high-profile rescue effort wouldn’t have happened. It’s to them that Mr Thomas ought to direct his thanks. They made our job easy.”

“I totally agree,” said Mr Thomas as Artillerymen Kier and Hawke smiled, “As a pilot, my passengers regard me as the one who has control over their flight, but rarely if ever do they consider the huge team of people, from air traffic controllers to baggage loaders to runway inspectors, who make their journey possible.”

“One thing I see,” interrupted Lorna Delville, “Is that the college places an enormous amount of responsibility on the students here. No disrespect to you, Cadet Davis, or any of you, but is that good? Shouldn’t the teaching staff take more responsibility, allow the students to get on with learning? Surely the staff should have been responsible for working with the National Guard?”

The Commandant smiled. “I think the students here do learn, Miss DelvIlle, just not in the way people may expect. But I am biased, so perhaps General Carstairs might comment?”

General Carstairs nodded his thanks to the waitress who had just appeared at his side and served his starter course before speaking. “I’m glad you raised that point, Miss DelvIlle. Allegheny River Military College is no ordinary school, something that you might perhaps like to bear in mind when you make your television programme. Yes, like any other school, the college pursues academic excellence first and foremost, backed by a strong tradition of sporting prowess. But, unlike other schools, the college has a tradition of providing a far more rounded education to young gentlemen who will go on to great things. We, the Governors, insist upon it. We are not afraid to be labelled as ‘elitist’. We take pride in it. We want the very best for our students. The college is a military based college in its outlook and a third, typically, of its students who graduate each year go on to enter Westpoint Military Academy and thence into careers in our Army. Similarly, another third typically go on to our Ivy League universities, providing a strong cadre of scientists and engineers, lawyers and doctors, the backbone of this great nation of ours. The remaining third, no less important, typically go on to take the reins of their family businesses, or enter the arts and humanities. In short, Miss Delville, the cadets you see before you are the future of America. The Commandant and his staff can teach them mathematics and history, science and geography, biology and languages, but the real value in their education derives from what they do themselves. They govern themselves, draw up their own rules, police themselves. But above all, they learn to help others. To put others’ interests before their own. That is what makes them fit to be military officers, or to govern.”

Mr Thomas raised his gaze from his soup and started to speak, but was cut off by Lorna DelvIlle. “Isn’t it that the case though that the college simply perpetuates the status quo, that an elite ruling class is favoured over the rest of the population?”

“Is that a bad thing, even if true? Which I doubt…” countered General Carstairs before continuing. “I regret that I don’t know the backgrounds of the cadets here as well as I ought, but if a group of honest, well meaning, well educated young men, selflessly devoted to advancing the situation of others does exist, is that not something to be applauded?”

“If you’ll forgive me for interrupting, Miss DelvIlle,” said Jackson, “It may be true that some of us, myself and Sergeant Bauer being prime examples, do represent the ‘status quo’ as you term it, but the cadets around this table are far from that stereotype. Bensinger Squad in particular comprises students who do not fit in with your simplistic judgements. I …”

“Indeed so,” interrupted the Commandant. “Now, may I suggest that we consume our hors d’ oeuvres before the main course arrives?”

For a moment Noah hesitated, then looked at Nat. Locked eyes with him. Saw agreement.

“Miss Delville,” said Noah, hesitantly at first but gaining confidence. “I like it here. I didn’t do well at my old schools; I’m what people think of as on the autistic spectrum. Asperger’s Disorder to be exact. But here, most people don’t care about that. The college just recognises what I can do well, and makes allowance for what I can’t do well. I’m good at some stuff, and not good at other things. Sergeant Bauer and Captain Davis let me do the things I can do. Plot maps. Make logs. Look after the detailed stuff. They even put me in charge of cadets Hawke and Keir. That was hard. But it stretched me. Made me do things I wouldn’t have done. I think I’m better for it.”

“That’s right,” said Hawke as he tucked into his soup. “Noah was a real task master, made sure we did our assigned duties. But he explained it to us properly. Made sure we understood it. Very clear instructions.”

The Commandant smiled. “I think you’ll find when you do your research, Miss Delville, that cadet Mason is also a very talented artist. He’s had portraits displayed in exhibitions at the Carnegie Gallery already, and that’s at the age of fifteen. The college has stretched him further, pushed him out of his comfort zone. Made him a key component of our recent assistance to the local community.  Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t bloody well think so,” said Travis quietly, imitating Craig’s accent and causing Bensinger Squad to chuckle. Nat glared at them.

Lorna DelvIlle paused for a moment, her fork hovering over the red pepper and tuna mousse toasts on her plate, then spoke. “But isn’t there a danger, Commandant, that the students here exist, at least partially, in isolation, largely unaware of the realities of the world beyond the gates of the college? Do they have any links to the world just a mile or two down the highway? Do they know what life is like for the average American?”

Kyle smiled. “I think I can answer that. Simply, ‘yes.’ The college has good links to the local townships and Pittsburgh as a whole. My boyfriend, who I’ve been dating for almost three years, is just an ordinary guy from Pittsburgh. No, that’s not true. He’s actually an extraordinary guy.”

“Are you all right, Miss Delville?” asked General Carstairs as Lorna DelvIlle turned red and appeared to choke on her mousse and the cadets tried, unsuccessfully, not to laugh.  General Carstairs just about managed to suppress a snigger.

“I, well, I, err,” stuttered Lorna.

“I think you’ll find,” smiled the Commandant, “That the college is an outstanding example of the kind of institution that puts the abilities, character and personal qualities of an individual first and foremost. We may be not too far from the time that we choose to admit young ladies to our ranks too. Isn’t that right, General?”

“Oh, no need to rush on that project on my account,” smiled Kyle, provoking another outburst of laughter all around the table.

“As you see, Miss DelvIlle, we try not to take ourselves too seriously here. Fundamentally we are still a school, not a training ground for the Illuminati. I hope your television show will get that point across.” The Commandant was smiling but his point was clear and a serious one.

“I think,” said General Carstairs, “If we return to your original point, Miss DelvIlle, that yes, we do place a great deal of responsibility on our students. Of course, the staff are always there in the background, a safety net ready to catch anyone who falls, but the important thing is that we do allow people the luxury of failing. And failing is a luxury. The opportunity to learn from our mistakes. It’s perhaps better that students learn here what doesn’t work than when they are on the field of battle or in, perhaps, the Oval Office. I well remember sitting in a lesson here as a student many years and learning Roosevelt’s Citizenship speech. I’m sure you know it well, but for our younger guests, humour me if I repeat it.”

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

“Now, I’ll hope you agree,” concluded General Carstairs, “Cadets Davis, Masters, Bauer, Larson, Lundgren, Brooke, Mason, Hawke and Kier all stepped into the arena when the challenge came, and acquitted themselves admirably. What more could we ask of them than that?”

The Commandant smiled again. “We might ask of them if they can sew?”

“Sew?” said Travis, aloud.

Kyle turned to Jackson, smirked and said, in a mock whisper, “Phew. I was expecting Travis to say something much worse than that…”

General Carstairs grinned. “Yes, Cadet Larson. Sew. The Commandant had an ulterior motive in inviting me here tonight in addition to beginning our ‘lessons learned’ study. I’m aware that you handed back your temporary rank badges this morning and have reverted to being Cadet Privates. I’m also aware that Captain Davis has recommended that those of you in Bensinger Squad should be promoted to Corporal on the last day of your freshman year rather than on the first day of your sophomore year.” He turned to Miss Delville and Mr Thomas. “That might seem a trivial thing, but for any of them who choose to go on to a career in the military it will advance their seniority by a year as a recognition of their achievements.” He turned again to face Travis and the rest of Bensinger Squad.

“However, I understand that none of the four of you have so far indicated that you wish to pursue a career in the military. That is not an issue: I am sure you will do great things in whatever field you choose to enter. So, after discussing the matter with the Commandant, we felt that a more immediate recognition of your achievements was in order. It therefore gives me great pleasure to tell you that all four Cadets in Bensinger Squad are to be promoted from Cadet Private to Cadet Private First Class. The Commandant will publish the promotion in Weekly Orders next Monday and that will be your formal promotion date.”

Shane was the first to comment. “Wow. There aren’t any other Privates First Class in the whole college!”

“There haven’t been since 1985,” said the Commandant. “I had to look it up. But you’re not entirely correct about there being no others.”

“That’s right,” said Jackson. “There are two more. Cadet First Class Mason made a very good point to me yesterday about how well Cadets Hawke and Kier had worked for him in the Situation Room, something that I too saw for myself. So, Cadets Hawke and Kier, you will also be promoted to Privates First Class, effective the following Monday. Congratulations to all of you.”

Nat was smiling as he passed a small envelope to General Carstairs. “Well, don’t just sit there gawping like goldfish guys, you need to come round here and line up so the General can give you your new rank badges. You can sew them on your tunics this weekend ready for Monday.”

As each of the cadets stepped forward to receive their new rank badge, the General shook hands and said a few quiet words to them.  Kyle took a photo of each presentation to be printed in the next edition of the alumni magazine. Noah was the last to step forward.

“Congratulations, Private First Class Mason. I can well understand how difficult it was for you to step forward into the bustle of the Situation Room and keep it functioning, and then to go a step further and have to take on responsibility for those serving under you. Yours was perhaps the hardest won promotion of all, and exceptionally well deserved.”

As everyone took their seats again, the serving staff entered bearing the main course. There was some polite conversation as they ate, but most attention was centred on the food and it wasn’t until the last plates had been cleared that Mr Thomas took the opportunity of the short wait for the desserts to arrive to speak again.

“Now, the college itself has recognised each of you cadets in a fitting manner, but I wanted to do something more, particularly as Cadet Sergeant Bauer hasn’t been formally recognised. I did talk to him and the Commandant earlier about my intention to nominate the College for a Governor’s Commendation but they wouldn’t hear of it. Sergeant Bauer was particularly adamant that it would be inappropriate given that he’s the Deputy Governor’s son and…”

“Baby Big Cheese,” whispered Will to the Hawke and Kier, a little louder than he perhaps intended, “That’s what Craig used to call him.”

“… And the Commandant was equally keen to point out that the College was simply doing what was appropriate and right, and so ought not to be singled out for simply doing its duty towards the community. I can’t say I agree with them, but I understand their position and so agreed not to make a nomination to the Governor’s Office. However, I really do feel that some further recognition is appropriate. The values we have heard discussed earlier are something that we also hold dear at American Airlines and, as one our brand ambassadors, I also proposed that we would award each of you two free Business Class flights to any destination in the continental USA.” Mr Thomas paused and smiled. “However, I understand that you all tend to travel First Class in any case, and some of you even have your own planes. And again, Sergeant Bauer was keen to stress that you don’t expect any reward for your actions.”

There was a murmur and a nodding of heads from Bensinger Squad.

“I still wish, on behalf of wife, my daughter and American Airlines, to recognise what you did. It may seem to you that you were only doing your duty, but that often seems a rare thing these days and I really feel that it ought not to go unrecognised.”

Shane looked up, shifted in his seat a little nervously and tried, unsuccessfully, to catch Nat’s eye. Mr Thomas saw him.

“Shane? Do you have something you want to say?”

Shane turned red and looked again at Nat before turning to Mr Thomas. “Well, I have an idea, but I think I ought to discuss it with Sergeant Bauer first. And with Captain Davis. It would affect both of them. They run the club.”

“No, go ahead, Shane,” said Nathan. “Say what you think.”

Shane took a deep breath as all eyes focused on him.

“Well, it’s like this. We’ve just set up a golf club here at college. It’s too late for us to compete in the Pennsylvania Schools’ League this season, but we’re planning to host a few invitation matches to get some practice in and get things up and running smoothly. I was just wondering if, well, if American Airlines might provide some sponsorship for the matches? Maybe pay the costs of some schools travelling to us if they don’t have a budget of their own. It wouldn’t cost much, hiring a mini-coach is lots less expensive than giving us some flights.”

There was a moment’s pause as people thought about what they had heard, then Mr Thomas spoke first, and loudly, as he competed with Lorna Delville.

“That’s an excellent idea! We’d be very happy to provide some sponsorship like that! Yes, that’s definitely in the community spirit we so admire at American. And perhaps some prizes too for the winners.”

“A KWT-TV Challenge Cup. I’d present it myself. We’d carry a short piece of coverage on our sports bulletins of course on each match day.”

As desserts arrived, the Commandant and General Carstairs exchanged smiles. Miss Delvile’s forthcoming programme on the college now looked assured to show it in a good light…

* * *

All the other cadets had long finished dinner and returned to their dorms by the time Bensinger Squad’s dinner ended.  As the Commandant and Kyle escorted General Carstairs, Lorna Delville and Mr Thomas to their cars, Jackson held back and spoke to Nathan as the two of them walked back to the accommodation block.

“That went well, Bauer. You did right to turn down the nomination for a Governor’s Commendation. It would have looked as if we had manufactured a situation to earn it, even if it was thoroughly deserved. Sometimes you just have to be seen to be above such things, integrity matters far more than a certificate on the wall. And Shane, at the end, suggesting that American might cover the costs of other schools coming here to play, that really emphasised to Miss Delville that the college isn’t just pretending to be community minded. That was a smart move.”

“And genuinely sincere,” said Nathan as they stepped through the reception area and began to climb the staircase to their respective floors. “Shane wasn’t scheming when he made that suggestion.”

Jackson smiled. “You know, Bensinger Squad has really done well over the last few months. Surprised a lot of people. Muster Sunday. The Milskills challenges. That snow survival lecture. The whole effort in liaising and working with the Guard. It reflects well on you too, Nathan. Kyle was right to champion them, and then hand them on to you. Yes, it definitely shows we were right to talk Cadet Wright into going back home to England, convinced him it was what he should do. Stopped him being a distraction to you, let you concentrate on the four guys that needed inspiring rather than, well, I don’t think I need say anything more about that. Right, this is your floor, I’ll say goodnight. Congratulations once again. You’ve done well.”

* * *