to get him to understand that all we need is it running ,” Faith said.
“Good luck, ma’am,” Januscheitis said. “Getting one of these up to Decker’s standards will take—”
“Forever, since there is no such thing as absolutely perfect,” Faith said. “I’ll try to explain it to him.”
* * *
“I understand the vehicle does not have to meet full ORS inspection requirements, ma’am,” Decker said, standing at attention. “However, this vehicle will require a minimum of two hundred man-hours of depot-level repair, ma’am.”
“I’m not getting that, Staff Sergeant,” Faith said. “I’m not disagreeing with you. You’re the expert. But can you explain in terms simple enough for a second lieutenant to understand?”
“When armored vehicles are left unused, various materials break down, ma’am,” Decker said, breaking into lecture mode. “Rubber seals are almost the first to go. The air filter for the engine is paper based and often becomes a nest for pests both invertebrate and vertebrate. At the minimum, this vehicle needs: new batteries, complete seal replacement, adjust fuel injection system, full lube, replace hydraulic fluid, hydraulic seals, oil. . . . That is before even inspecting the vehicle, ma’am. Depot level maintenance, two hundred man-hours, ma’am. And despite the hatches being closed, watch out for brown recluse and black widows in the ammo storage area. That was a recurrent issue with material from this depot, ma’am.”
“Sounds about right,” Januscheitis said.
“Really?” Faith said.
“That’s what we were doing for weeks at Gitmo, ma’am,” the staff sergeant said. “Just with helos. Which had all the same problems. Think you’re going to have to settle for a LAV, ma’am.”
“What’s a LAV?” Faith asked.
Decker was far too dialed in and wired to wince. Januscheitis, not so much.
“It’s times like this that I recall your age and relative inexperience, ma’am,” the staff sergeant said. “If you would care to walk this way . . . ?”
* * *
“That’s a tank, too,” Faith said. “All I said was, I want a tank!”
“With due respect, ma’am! That is not a tank !” Staff Sergeant Decker, the Marine Armor Staff NCO, barked.
“S’got armor,” Faith said, gesturing at the LAV. “S’got a gun. S’atank!”
“With due respect, ma’am,” Januscheitis said, trying not to grin. “I have to agree with the staff sergeant on this one. It is a light assault vehicle. So . . . Not a tank.”
“’Cause it’s got wheels?” Faith asked.
“’Cause it’s got wheels, light armor and a light gun, ma’am,” Januscheitis said. “The LAV-25 is an eight-wheeled, four-wheel primary drive, amphibious reconnaissance vehicle built by General Dynamics and based upon the well-proven Swiss MOWAG series of eight by eight vehicles. The LAV-25 has a crew of three and can carry up to six deployable Marines. Armaments: One twenty-five-millimeter Colt Bushmaster auto-cannon, two M240 machine guns. Light assault vehicle. Not a tank.”
“’Cause an Abrams could roll over one of these toys and crush it like a tin can, ma’am!” Decker said tightly. The staff sergeant was starting to twitch. Never a good sign.
“Very well, Staff NCOs,” Faith said. “I concur to your experience. Not a tank. But can we get it running?”
“I am less familiar with the operation and maintenance of the light assault vehicle, ma’am,” Decker said, calming down. “However, many of the same issues apply to a lesser degree, ma’am.”
“LAVs are way less maintenance intensive than Abrams, ma’am,” Januscheitis said. “Or helos. We can probably get one of these running in a day or two if the colonel okays it.”
“We need these for more than just to give your lieutenant a driving lesson,” Faith said. “I haven’t discussed it with the colonel, but there’s an argument for having some amphibians. I know the tank doesn’t count for that. But we need some
“Good luck, ma’am,” Januscheitis said. “Getting one of these up to Decker’s standards will take—”
“Forever, since there is no such thing as absolutely perfect,” Faith said. “I’ll try to explain it to him.”
* * *
“I understand the vehicle does not have to meet full ORS inspection requirements, ma’am,” Decker said, standing at attention. “However, this vehicle will require a minimum of two hundred man-hours of depot-level repair, ma’am.”
“I’m not getting that, Staff Sergeant,” Faith said. “I’m not disagreeing with you. You’re the expert. But can you explain in terms simple enough for a second lieutenant to understand?”
“When armored vehicles are left unused, various materials break down, ma’am,” Decker said, breaking into lecture mode. “Rubber seals are almost the first to go. The air filter for the engine is paper based and often becomes a nest for pests both invertebrate and vertebrate. At the minimum, this vehicle needs: new batteries, complete seal replacement, adjust fuel injection system, full lube, replace hydraulic fluid, hydraulic seals, oil. . . . That is before even inspecting the vehicle, ma’am. Depot level maintenance, two hundred man-hours, ma’am. And despite the hatches being closed, watch out for brown recluse and black widows in the ammo storage area. That was a recurrent issue with material from this depot, ma’am.”
“Sounds about right,” Januscheitis said.
“Really?” Faith said.
“That’s what we were doing for weeks at Gitmo, ma’am,” the staff sergeant said. “Just with helos. Which had all the same problems. Think you’re going to have to settle for a LAV, ma’am.”
“What’s a LAV?” Faith asked.
Decker was far too dialed in and wired to wince. Januscheitis, not so much.
“It’s times like this that I recall your age and relative inexperience, ma’am,” the staff sergeant said. “If you would care to walk this way . . . ?”
* * *
“That’s a tank, too,” Faith said. “All I said was, I want a tank!”
“With due respect, ma’am! That is not a tank !” Staff Sergeant Decker, the Marine Armor Staff NCO, barked.
“S’got armor,” Faith said, gesturing at the LAV. “S’got a gun. S’atank!”
“With due respect, ma’am,” Januscheitis said, trying not to grin. “I have to agree with the staff sergeant on this one. It is a light assault vehicle. So . . . Not a tank.”
“’Cause it’s got wheels?” Faith asked.
“’Cause it’s got wheels, light armor and a light gun, ma’am,” Januscheitis said. “The LAV-25 is an eight-wheeled, four-wheel primary drive, amphibious reconnaissance vehicle built by General Dynamics and based upon the well-proven Swiss MOWAG series of eight by eight vehicles. The LAV-25 has a crew of three and can carry up to six deployable Marines. Armaments: One twenty-five-millimeter Colt Bushmaster auto-cannon, two M240 machine guns. Light assault vehicle. Not a tank.”
“’Cause an Abrams could roll over one of these toys and crush it like a tin can, ma’am!” Decker said tightly. The staff sergeant was starting to twitch. Never a good sign.
“Very well, Staff NCOs,” Faith said. “I concur to your experience. Not a tank. But can we get it running?”
“I am less familiar with the operation and maintenance of the light assault vehicle, ma’am,” Decker said, calming down. “However, many of the same issues apply to a lesser degree, ma’am.”
“LAVs are way less maintenance intensive than Abrams, ma’am,” Januscheitis said. “Or helos. We can probably get one of these running in a day or two if the colonel okays it.”
“We need these for more than just to give your lieutenant a driving lesson,” Faith said. “I haven’t discussed it with the colonel, but there’s an argument for having some amphibians. I know the tank doesn’t count for that. But we need some
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