I Wanted to Welcome Him

When a person walks into our spaces the first noticeable feature is a group of five military head shots each in its own brown wooden frame. The photos are of the Battalion CO, Battalion XO, Battalion Command Master Chief, the Det OIC, and the Det AOIC. It's my job to maintain the photographs.

I wanted to welcome the new Lieutenant warmly and sincerely and the best way I could think to do it was to contact a Yeoman friend of mine with main body and have her e-mail the LT's head shot. The day he arrived from Andros I pasted his photo in its proper place and moved Mad Dog down in rank to the position he will fill for the rest of his Cuban days. It felt scandalous, insubordinate, but most of all it felt good. I was smiling every step of the way.

Today, D+2, I walked to the front of spaces where LT and Mad Dog were looking at the photos. Three of five brass labels were missing from the frames (adhered with unsticky tape they fall frequently).

MD: Who moved the photos!? Who did it?!
        calls on radio: Job Sup, do you know who moved the photos?!

JS: in a tone that communicates frustration...  What? No, chief. I have no idea.

MD: LT, who took your photo here?

LT: No one's taken my photo this week.

EA2: I had the photo e-mailed from Arifjahn and I put it up. But I didn't touch the CO's picture or the Master Chief's. Did you check under the couch for the labels?

MD: We checked.

LT: walks to couch... Here's one of them.

MD: to me... OK. Never mind. We got it. We got it. You can leave.

I walked back to my desk and ten minutes later Mad Dog came back to talk to me.

MD: Next time you don't move my photo till I tell you to.

EA2: pause... There's not going to be a next time.

Mad Dog walked away.

EA2: in an elevated tone so that he could hear... I was just doing my job.

Sometimes I can't help myself.