The Ballroom
ImperialPalace, City of Magdeburg
United States of Europe
Five months later, in the late afternoon.
The high collar of her dress blues, together with the tight fit of her Sam Browne belt were uncomfortable and, as usual, a reminder of the leather stocks that in the future that would never be, had given Marines their most enduring nickname. It also made de Ventron think fondly of her very comfortable utilities and how long would it be before she could get back into them.
Looking at the scene in front of her eyes, though, she decided that the temporary discomfort was acceptable and much welcome. Their numbers were greatly diminished from those that had started their studies four months earlier. It was the nature of the beast and the price to pay for high standards. Still, the newly commissioned officers of the basic school class 035-03 had lots to celebrate with their family and friends. Only two of the original six women made it to the finish line.
It gave her a special pride to know that the women had been number one and two in overall class standing. If they had been men, they would have been shoe-ins for the coveted troop command slots. Still, their success advanced the cause for all women in general, and perhaps one day, probably not in her lifetime but maybe in the Hudson girls' lifetimes, that too would come to pass.
Meanwhile, she enjoyed the look of total contentment on the face of Her Grace Second Lieutenant Anne de Gonzague de Mantoue, USMC. As she, the young prince Oginskis, and her father Duke Charles-surrounded by more relatives and noble retainers than she could shake a stick at-admired the Toledo steel blade of the Mameluke sword presented to her on behalf of her other siblings. After Mantoue's frail sister Benedicte and Father Benito pinned on her gold bars, de Ventron had given kudos to the duke and his family for risking more air travel to see Mantoue graduate. With his daughter a solid number two in her class standing, His Grace and her family could be justifiably proud of her. Looking on beside them stood Captain Falaguerra, the new head of the Duchess' bodyguard in Magdeburg. The jury was still out as to whether his new posting was a promotion or a punishment.
The number one graduate, class valedictorian, and a surprise for many, Lieutenant Angelina Rainaldi stood proudly with her naval officer husband, members of her "other family" in the JAG office, and Gunther and Brunei Schlosser and their child. Rainaldi's daughter, Charlie, was completely fascinated with her mother's butter bars as she rested in her arms. De Ventron smiled at the homey scene.
Mantoue's identity had remained sort of a secret until today, and it had been necessary to provide the young duchess with a battle buddy and a roommate that was already aware of her real persona and background. Like many, de Ventron had been surprised when the Sergeant Major pushed forward Rainaldi's name for consideration. But during the basic school, she had demonstrated an inner strength tougher than Toledo steel. Now, it seemed that too had been another of Hudson's leap of faith moments.
"Penny for your thoughts, Captain."
De Ventron almost jumped out of her skin at the unexpected comment and frowned at "the legend" himself, resplendent in his dress blues with full medals as he stood beside her. "Sergeant Major, one of these days you are going to give me a heart attack," she protested.
He grinned down at her. "Captain, you're too young to worry about that. Besides, I've got good news for you."
She raised her eyebrow in query and disbelief, making him chuckle.
"I just saw Noah Wilson back at the barracks leading his new recruit platoon in an impromptu serenade to his wife. They were singing-very off-key I might add-a lullaby, and Kimberly Ann was beaming with happiness. So I think that we can assume that the rabbit croaked. When did you and Gunther bet that it was going to be?"
"Summer, and a boy-I think that we have the first of the two conditions down pat," she said, ecstatic at the news.
"Darn, spring and a girl for me. Oh, well. So tell me, Annette, when are you going to do something about Friedrich?"
At first, de Ventron did not register his question, happy for the good fortune of her friend. But suddenly, it dawned on her and she turned to look at Hudson with mouth agape and a look of horror.
"How… how do you know?" she stammered.
"Easy. You two make calf eyes at one another every time one of you isn't looking-rather pathetic, if you ask me."
Startled at his insight, she could only stare at him as her cheeks burned and then blurted the first thing in her mind. "Duke, even if I was interested, there is that thing about fraternization."
He grinned. "Funny. Scuttlebutt says that both ONI and the former Nasi organization, impressed with the way you handled the duchess situation, are vying for your services, ma'am. Regardless which you choose, it would mean that you will transfer to the naval staff and a different chain of command. I see that the opportunity is there."
De Ventron looked around until she saw von Brockenholz making his rounds around the room, congratulating the new graduates and their families. She allowed herself a moment to admire the dashing figure he cut in his uniform and felt a glow that warmed her insides, but then her practical side tried to assert itself. "Even if it was allowed by the circumstances, Sergeant Major, I don't feel that it's in the cards at this time. We must accept God's will."
He snorted. "Oh, really? By my estimate there were over two hundred boots in that parade ground that day and you picked up the only one that could be your replacement in the regiment-and the one that needed your help the most. Me, I think that the Lord moves in mysterious ways but if he gives you a chance, you better take it, ma'am. You deserve it and so does the colonel. Think about it."
De Ventron nodded and weighed the idea, finding it not bad at all. Perhaps it's time to moveon, she thought. So perhaps tomorrow, I can start making the rounds around ONI and the new USE CIA organization-Lord, I'm going to miss Francisco – and explore what they have to offer. But she knew that regardless of the outcome of her research, Mantoue was in for a heck of a steep learning curve as her assistant. I hope that she hasn't set her heart on doing too much "networking" for the foreseeable future, and particularly not with too many young princelings, she thought smiling and then noticed Hudson's frown. "Penny for your thoughts, Duke."
He looked at her with a sly smile. "Just thinking, in all my years in the Corps, up-time and down-time, I never expected to see an honest-to-God duchess in our ranks.
De Ventron withheld the crack on the tip of her tongue about his own nickname and looked back at the proud Marine lieutenant and her family. "Better get accustomed to it, Sergeant Major. That Duchess is now a leatherneck."
To Marines, past, present and future.
Thanks to Mic Sjostrom for the suggestion of Anne as a character, and his genealogical expertise. Thanks also to Virginia DeMarce for general information, Janice James-Watson and Leonard Hollar for proofreading. All mistakes, of course, are mine.
Turn Your Radio On, Episode Six
Written by Wood Hughes