Lieutenant Colonel (The United Federation Marine Corps Book 6) by Jonathan P. Brazee Page A

tell that Colonel Miller, at least, felt similarly let down.
    It wasn’t just the Drum Corps or the entertainment, Ryck had to admit.  He’d been less than animated during his speech.  He’d practiced it in front of the kids and Hannah five times, but when it came time to give it, he’d stumbled and fallen flat.
    This had been nothing like the Patron Day celebration on Sierra Dorado when he’d been the company commander in Charlie 1/11.  That had been the high-water mark of celebrations, and with the colonel and the CG attending this one and as the battalion CO, Ryck had wanted the battalion to nail it.
    Part of the problem was the date.  No one really knew on what date during 1618 the Corps of Fusiliers had been formed, so by tradition, probably going back to the founding of the Federation Marines, January 10 th had been used as the battalion’s patron day.  With the slew of holidays between the Marine Corps birthday of November 10 and through the New Year holiday, the Marines and sailors didn’t have the time to really rehearse and practice before the 10 th .  
    That was a BS excuse, though, Ryck knew.  All of the prep and coordination could have been done prior to the Marine Corps birthday.  With the tempo of the battalion, however, Ryck had been more than happy to turn all of the prep to the sergeant major, who seemed more focused on his retirement next week.  For the celebration next year, Ryck would have Hecs, who was already onboard, but he vowed he’d maintain closer observation on it.  The celebration may not have a direct relationship with the battalion’s combat readiness, but it was tradition, and tradition was a huge part of what made the Marines the Marines.
    “The sergeant major seems happy enough,” the XO remarked.  “Maybe more so that he’s about to retire.”
    So he agrees with me , Ryck thought, glad he wasn’t the only one.
    But this wasn’t a time for recriminations.  This was a celebration, and Portugal was hosting a huge spread of food for the battalion and guests.  From the aromas rising from the tables set up in the back of the hotel’s main conference room, the food could easily be the highlight of the celebration.
    “Nice celebration,” a voice said from behind the two Marines.
    Ryck turned to see Jorge Simone, his NOTC [4] classmate.  Jorge had some staff job in the J3, but he’d been a company commander in the battalion for a year, so he was an alumni, and along with other alumni who were on Tarawa, he’d come to help celebrate.  Ryck tried to detect a note of sarcasm in Jorge’s comment, but the man seemed sincere.
    Jorge was an anomaly, as far as Ryck was concerned.  Extremely intelligent and capable, Ryck had always been sure Jorge would be the first flag in the class, and they would all be drinking the champagne awaiting in the class box at the Globe and Laurel in his honor.  But Jorge’s career was not going according to what was considered as that of a rising star.  He had very little time in command of infantry units.  His time was spent on staffs.  His tour with the Fuzos had been cut short after only a year as he was pulled to the regimental S3.  This was a testament that he excelled at staff work, but he hadn’t been able to prove himself as a commander.
    Ryck had spoken with Derrick Ohu, another NOTC classmate who was close to Jorge, and he’d told Ryck that Jorge had been livid at losing his company and hated being pulled to one staff after another.  But commanders had a habit of pulling those Marines who could help them achieve success.
    Ryck looked guiltily over to the senior staff table where Sandy was deep in conversation with Proctor Christophe.  He’d pulled Sandy into the battalion, against his initial wishes, because he hadn’t thought Stig Juventus up to the task.  Had that been concern for the battalion or more selfishly a desire to shine as a commander? Ryck wasn’t sure, if he was completely honest with