“Sir, we have the operational readiness survey coming up,” said the specialist, desperately wishing his internal processes would just stop or a hole would open up and swallow him.

“Uh huh, go on. Feel free to use more than one sentence,” said the colonel.

“I think I know where this is going,” chuckled the sergeant major.

Taking a deep breath the quivering specialist continued. “Well, the PLL kit is only good for minor shit like changing a tire…”

“Like now!” the colonel snapped.

“Yes, sir,” the specialist continued, doggedly, “and when the vehicle is good the tires rarely go bad. And this is a good jeep, that’s a new damn tire! But at ORS the inspectors know that the commanders’ vehicles get first dibs so they really go over ’em with a fine comb. And if they can’t find something major they look for little shit like chipped paint on your jack and stuff. So, I got the maintenance chief to swap me for a new set of PLL and since I didn’t want it to get fucked up…”

“Knew it!” laughed the NCO. “God, I hate that trick. Next time, Reynolds, get two sets of PLL and keep one in your locker!”

“Reynolds.” The colonel forced himself to pause. Ripping the head off the idiot would solve nothing. One of the reasons he was so angry was his own sense of failure for not replacing this particular weak link before ARTEP.

“Yes, sir?”

“You are almost remarkably lacking in sense.” Horner looked at the heavens, as if seeking guidance.

“Yes, sir.”

“I ought to send you to the Post Protocol office as a permanent driver,” said the colonel, returning to the situation.

“Yes, sir.”

“It is not a compliment,” said the officer, smiling like a tiger.