Alarm of War by Kennedy Hudner Page A

on his forehead and the color drained from his face. “Listen, Em-Emily,” he stammered. “If you need me, I’ll do it, but I’d much rather be, you know, like you staff officer or something. I’m real good with maps and-” He paused, looking away from her. “I really don’t like making battlefield decisions,” he said miserably. He took out his notebook and held it in front of him, as if he were offering her a gift of great worth. “But I’ve got everything you need to know about everyone in Blue Company.”
    Emily remembered the look on Brill’s face after he led the Blue Company victory over Green and Gold. And she recalled the brilliant analysis that allowed him to do it. She made a decision. “Okay,” she said briskly. “You are my
aide de camp
, chief advisor and right hand man. But,” she said sternly. “When I want advice, I want it because I need it right then and there. You can’t get all nervous and close up on me. Deal?”
    Brill breathe in relief. “I won’t let you down.”
    “Okay, Mr. Advisor, I need four platoon leaders right now. Suggestions?”
    Brill thought for a moment, his face taking on that peculiarly blank expression that she had seen before when he was concentrating intently. Cookie called it his “village idiot” look. Then, abruptly, he was back.
    “Okay,” he said. “You want Kimball, Lee, Zavareei and,” he smiled grimly, “Skiffington.”
    Emily considered. Rob Kimball was a tall, beanpole recruit with a shock of unkempt hair who had shown an unbridled enthusiasm for tactical exercises. What’s more, he had shown a talent for devious and cunning tactics, always doing something that caught his opponents by surprise. Sandra Lee was slow talking, calm and steady, but incredibly focused. She wasn’t afraid to take risks and Emily thought she would walk through fire if that is what it took to accomplish the mission.
    “I don’t know Zavareei and Skiffington is FOF,” she said, a little more sharply than she intended. In the back of her mind a voice was screaming at her that time was running out. They had to get going!
    “Kara Zavareei is a high energy type who will keep her troops motivated and moving,” Brill replied easily. “And Skiffington is ten feet behind you, looking fine. If we have to break through enemy defenses at the bridge, put his platoon out front.”
    Emily turned. Grant Skiffington was standing there with a nonchalant grin, eating a ration bar. “Sergeant said I could finish the maneuver with you,” he said, explaining his rebirth. “And I hope you don’t mind if I took one of your ration bars. Haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
    Her staff problem resolved, Emily took stock of logistics. The Company’s biggest problem was immediately evident. Even after the extra “ammunition” had been passed out, there were still twelve soldiers without working batteries to power their rifles. Others had only a few shots left. They had depleted their batteries at the rifle range. Emily thought furiously, then, borrowing an idea from Hiram Brill, called for the four fastest long-distance runners. When they stepped forward, she took them aside.
    “We are about four miles from the camp as the crow flies, she explained. “You take the truck back up the road about a mile. That will put you closest to the camp. Leave the truck there, in case Red Company has more ambushes set up. Cut through the fields to the camp and beg, borrow or steal as many batteries as you can find. Field rations, too. Don’t load your packs too heavy, because you’ve got to catch up to us. Come back a different route and don’t go near the truck. If the enemy sees it, they’ll stake it out.”
    She showed them on the map which route she intended to take, and gave them one of the radios, along with code words in case Red or Green Companies were listening in on Blue’s designated channel.
    As soon as the runners had left, she assembled the Company. “Listen up, everybody!” she