The Corps is feeling down, but it's been expected. Losing to Navy has everyone in the dumps, especially with end of semester exams just around the corner.

For me though, it's the start of my favorite time of year, the plan up for Sandhurst. The Sandhurst competition is a military skills competition open to cadets from around the country. Each company in the Corps puts up a team, as well as having teams from other schools like VMI, Texas A&M, and the Citadel. Even the Brits send two teams, which kind of makes sense considering Sandhurst is the name of their military academy, RMC Sandhurst.

The competition is fierce for bragging rights, and I love it.

“Hey Mike,” I say, knocking on the door of Mike Price. He's already signed up to run the Sandhurst team next semester. “You busy?”

“Nope, what's on your mind, Simon?” Mike asks. He's a good guy, and has done a good job as company commander this semester. “You ready for that Honor Class with the Plebes tomorrow?”

I step inside and take a seat on his footlocker, leaning back against the footboard of his bed. I don't know why, I like sitting on footlockers more than chairs. “Not a problem there. No, I wanted to ask you about Sandhurst.”

Mike grins, sitting back in his chair. “I wondered when you'd come by on that. I heard your rep before you joined I-1, you tore the course up as a Yuk in your old company. What's up?”

“Well, what're we looking at so far? I mean, there's you and I, but that's still nine more slots to put up, and two of those need to be female in case one of the girls gets hurt.”

Mike hums, nodding. “Yeah, we're looking good on the male side, we've actually got twelve guys who want to go for it, us included. But we're short on the female side.”

“Really?” I ask, surprised. “You mean King doesn't want to? I figured she'd be charging the damn course, she's such a fireplug.”

“A fireplug who's going out for the submission grappling team next semester,” Mike explains. It makes sense, Cara is a beast with a build perfect for wrestling, she's got better traps than a lot of the guys in the company. “I asked her about it, but she said nope. Said she wanted to twist some arms, work off some frustration. I can't fault her for that, so... got any ideas on who to recruit?”

I think about it, then nod. “Yeah... what about Carlyle?”

“Red?” Mike asks, referring to Carlyle's nickname. Better than JR, the name some joker in G-1 called her, after Jessica Rabbit. I had to straighten that shit out real quick, I won't accept that sort of disrespect. “You sure? I mean, I know she's impressed you Simon, but think she can hold up?”

“I think so. Besides, do you know her rifle score from Beast? She hit a thirty seven during week three of Beast, man. That's some pretty impressive shit,” I admit. “She took advanced swimming, got an A in it, and she's got the right attitude, man. Seriously, I don't think she's got the natural talent for being a super high rank in the Corps, but she's never going to quit on us.”

Mike hums, then nods. “Okay. I'll let you talk to her then. I'm going to talk to Betty Lawton, she's a good athlete. Her military skills are a bit lacking, but she tabbed her IOCT. That's hardcore shit.”

I shrug, not impressed. I know Betty, she's flirted with me a few times, but since the beginning of the academic year, for some reason I've been backing off on my playing. It's not like I'm losing interest in girls. But for a reason I won’t even admit to myself, I’ve stopped being a player.

I don't know if I'd want Betty on the squad. She's a great athlete, but she's a fucking rock in the water, she barely scraped through Plebe swimming if I remember right. Looks great in a swimsuit, but that suit ends up on the bottom of the damn pool far too easily. “If you think, Mike. You know her better than I do. But head to head, I'd put my money on Carlyle. Those two ever throw down, I think Carlyle'd scrap harder than Betty.”

“That's fine, man. We'll talk about it as the training progresses. First we've got to get them on the team. You don't mind though, I've got a paper to knock out , and then me and the boys are going to go down to the day room, watch wrestling. You game?”

I shake my head, not all that interested. According to what some old grads told us back in September, the Monday Night Wrestling Crew stretches back twenty years or more. I like traditions, but still, not my scene. “Nah, man. Thanks though.”

* * *

“Okay, so quick one minute review,” Major Campos, our TAC officer, asks, looking around at the collection of Plebes in the day room. “Price, gimmie the Honor Code.”

Price, who's perhaps the shyest Plebe I've ever known, speaks up. She's the complete opposite of Mike Price, sharing only a last name even if they aren't related. “Sir, a cadet will not lie, cheat, or steal, nor tolerate those who do.”

“Exactly,” Major Campos says, looking around. “Now, so far this year, we've covered the basics. Not a problem to figure out what a basic lie is, you all have known that since you were about four or five years old.”

There's a little laugh around the Plebes, which I'm glad for. Despite the stuffy image and the intimidation that the Honor Committee has, I want them to relax and really feel it. We're not the Spanish Inquisition.

“Good. But there's areas that we're going to get into over the next three years that gets more difficult. I'll turn it over to Cadet Lancaster now. Simon?”

I give the Major a nod, waiting for him to take a seat in the back of the day room. “Okay everyone, let's talk cheating. Here in the Academy, what constitutes cheating?”

The answers are predictable, and boring. Yes, sneaking notes into a class, copying someone else's paper, intentionally not citing your stuff properly, all pretty clear, and all of them covered months before. “Okay, all good answers, and all things that'll get you in the hack here at USMA. But I want to ask you all something. Is there a time when cheating is not only allowed, but perhaps encouraged?”

The Plebes sit for a while, thinking, then Carlyle of all people raises her hand. “Sir.... what about in war?”

“How so?” I ask, encouraged.

“Well sir, the whole point of war is to take advantage of your enemy,” Carlyle says. “We use technology all the time. Better radar, night vision, better... well, just better stuff to beat our enemy. We even intentionally lie and use unfairness in our war tactics. Some could call that cheating.”

I nod, impressed. “Good point. Where else? Even here in the Academy, where is being unfair not cheating?”

It's a good discussion, and as the hour goes on, the Plebes are looking thoughtful, which is what I want. They're growing past the 'monkey see, monkey do' stage of the cadet experience, and I like seeing them thinking. “To wrap up, let's review. There are some inherently unfair things that the Honor Code does not see as cheating. Just because Galloway is six foot four and Justino is five foot nothin', doesn't mean Galloway's cheating if they play basketball. And yes, if you have an advantage within the rules that you can exploit in a sport or other competition, you use it. Okay, I know you all have finals next week, I'll let you get to studying. Dismissed. Carlyle, wait up a moment.”

There's a few jokes for Carlyle as she sits back down, and Major Campos holds fast too. He's big into Sandhurst, and he probably knows what I'm going to talk with Carlyle about. “Relax, Carlyle. I just wanted to ask you about something.”

“Sir?” Carlyle replies, and I can see it in the way she looks at me, not intimidated or freaked out, but just measuring. She's the person I want on the team, she won't crack. There’s something else there, and the forbidden little whisper in my head repeats itself. She’s more than cute, and I’ve had a challenge being professional with her as her squad leader.

“I don't know if you are aware, but I'm the lead Cow for the Sandhurst team,” I tell her, giving her a smile. Normally around unrecognized Plebes my straight laced side comes out, but Carlyle is different. “What do you know about it?”

“Military competition sir, between the companies in the Corps and some outside teams. Gavin did it back when he was here,” she says, and Major Campos sits up, interested.

“Excuse me, Carlyle. I don't mean to interrupt, I noticed the name before. But... Gavin Carlyle, was he in G-3 as a Firstie?”

Carlyle turns, surprised. “Sir? You knew Gavin?”

“I was in G-3 my Plebe and Yuk years. I heard about his accident... my condolences. He was a good man, Ashley.”

Carlyle swallows and nods gratefully. “Thank you, sir. But, Cadet Lancaster, why me for Sandhurst?”

“Because we need two women to step up,” I tell her honestly. “Cadet Price's going to talk to Lawton, but I don't think she'll keep up when the mud hits the boots. Yeah, she's got a better APFT than you, but you've... you've shown me grit. And you shoot really well, something that can make the difference in the competition. It'll qualify as your Intramural credit for second semester, but it also takes up a lot of your military days too. So it's not easy, but it's worth it. What do you say?”

Carlyle thinks about it for a moment, then nods. “I'm game, sir. When do we start?”

“Formal practice will start during Winter Intercession, but I'd advise you to get workouts in starting ASAP. The Sandhurst is four hours long. When do you have gymnastics for DPE?”

“Next cycle, sir. Is it helpful?”

I nod. “Put it this way, everything we'll do in Sandhurst, you'll do in gymnastics. Don't sweat it now, but come January we'll get some extra work in on it all. I'm not guaranteeing you a slot on the team, but you'll be squared away for summer, I can guarantee you that.”

Carlyle gives me a smile, and again I'm struck by just how pretty this girl can be when she smiles. She might have major RBF, but when she smiles, she makes my blood run a lot warmer than I’ve felt in a while. Still, she's an unrecognized Plebe, and one who is in my squad to boot. I can’t do a thing. “Okay, sir. I'll get the workouts in starting tomorrow. Can I get workout tips?”

“Sure. I'll send you an e-mail with a training plan tonight. For now, go get some dinner,” I tell her, and Carlyle gets up, heading out of the day room. After she leaves, I look over at Major Campos, who's giving the now empty door an interesting look. “Any thoughts, sir?”

The Major nods. He's not much of a talker, he's more of a hard charging kick ass type, and he's in his last year as a TAC officer. “I wasn't sure, and to be honest I didn't check because I didn't want to be unfair to her or the other Plebes. But... she's a lot like her brother. You're extraordinarily fortunate to have her as one of your Plebes, Simon.”

“Thank you, sir. What was her brother like?” I ask, and the Major laughs before growing serious and contemplative.

“Funny. Intense, too. He was the sort of dedicated fool that'd sacrifice his life giving his poncho and gear to the other guys in his patrol, so that they can live while he freezes to death in a Florida swamp,” the Major says softly, shaking his head. “Never, ever doubt that Ashley Carlyle doesn't come from a strong background. And I suspect that come Sandhurst, you're right, she'll be the female on the team while Lawton cheers on from the sidelines.”