The McLaughlin Chronicles: An Officer and a Gentleman

McLaughlin was really freaked now. He rubbed at his hand, where the wound was, to see if it just closed weirdly or something. There was still a line of dead skin, but everything else was healed. The splinter had gone in at least two and a half inches. There was no way that it could have healed that fast.

He had never got a splinter like that before, but he had helped those his friends had taken, when he was a kid. Those took at least a day to heal – not an hour! He did not break his pace. He decided that there were other, more important things for him to attend to. He would not report to the medic now, but this was something he would have to investigate.

“Here you are, sir,” Sergeant Anderson said, opening the door to the small hut with his foot. “Miller was supposed to empty the room of Lieutenant D’s effects.” He carried the lieutenant’s bag and suitcase into the small room and placed them next to the bed. “I’ll call him immediately, sir. Would you like me to help you unpack, sir,” he asked.

McLaughlin smiled, playing with the bloodied t-shirt in his hand. “No thanks, sergeant. Where is Sergeant Gates?” Sergeant Gates was McLaughlin’s new senior NCO. Gates was temporally assigned command until he arrived.

“He’s out with a patrol, sir,” Anderson replied.

“Who’s in charge.”

“I am, sir. I was told that you would be arriving soon and to accept you in his place, sir.”

“I’m not knocking your gracious acceptance, Anderson, nor Gates’ devotion to duty,” McLaughlin said, easing Anderson’s mind.

“I understand, sir.”

“Do be kind enough to send a message of some sort when the Sergeant arrives.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Thank you, Sergeant. You may go back to your duties.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll have Corporal Miller come around, ASAP and get rid of D’s stuff.”

“Sergeant,” McLaughlin called out, just as Anderson was about to close the door. McLaughlin called without looking in his direction. His eyes were on the framed picture of the platoon’s former lieutenant with a young female that was standing on one of the cabinets.

“Yes, sir?”

“What happened to Lieutenant Demers?” he asked, while picking up the picture and holding it.

“Land mine, sir,” the sergeant replied. “Bouncing Betty.” There was silence in the room for the next half a minute. “Carry on sergeant.”

“Yes, sir.” The sergeant closed the door as he left. McLaughlin blessed himself and put the frame back on the cabinet.

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