The forecast was for more rain...naturally. Sophie stared up at the black billowing clouds in dismay. Texas had been in the midst of a long drought, but as had happened too often lately, as soon as her unit hit the field, the weather developed a sense of humor. July in Texas was supposed to be hot and dry. Add a little water to the landscape, and you got a steamy quagmire of mud. This was not an auspicious beginning to the annual two-week training with her Guard unit.

They waited in a long line of convoy vehicles for word that they could enter the training area on the military reservation. She hoped the rain would hold off just long enough for the soldiers to get the tents and camouflage nets unloaded from the trucks and erected. Their O-dark-thirty departure from the armory assured them they would have plenty of daylight to accomplish these tasks. But if the skies didn’t cooperate, they could be working well into the dark.

Not that she would complain. The captain was not going to hear a single whine from her on this trip. She was very mindful of her last disastrous field exercise and wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of seeing her making a fool out of herself again. Though she knew it was time to talk with him, she decided this exercise wasn’t the time nor place. She had a job to do, and she was determined to do it well. For now, Gage would remain “the captain” in her speech and in her thoughts.

Her platoon sergeant walked up to the side of her Hummer, a cigarette in his hand, and she smiled. Sergeant Schott never smoked, except during annual training. His wife wouldn’t stand for it.

“Hey, LT, I been thinkin’.”

That would be a first. He had a good heart, but Sergeant Schott wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.

“I been thinkin’ that if you get aggravated with the new captain, you should just let me and the boys know. We’ll take care of things for you, if you know what I mean.”

“Uh, thanks Sergeant Schott. You tell the boys I appreciate the offer, but I can handle the new captain all by myself.”

Great, word’s out. Now, the whole unit will know something’s going on between the captain and me. That’ll never do. Any discord will only undermine his authority, and he’ll blame that on me, too. Not to mention the small matter of fraternizing with a superior officer. Her goose was cooked.

She would just have to watch and see how things went. If she had to, she could pull Sergeant Schott aside and set him straight. He would see that the rest of the boys got the word. If there was anything that needed to be disseminated to the rest of the unit, Sergeant Schott was a one-man grapevine.

With the ominous threat of rain, she knew she’d have to push her men, and herself, to their limits. The company’s command post had to be established as efficiently as possible, even if the soldiers balked. She was pushing them for their own good, after all. They’d appreciate getting a decent night’s sleep in a dry tent, before a six o’clock wake-up call.

The crackle of the radio sounded from behind her.

“Charlie three-zero, Charlie three-zero, this is Charlie four-five, over.”

Sophie recognized the captain’s voice, and reached for the microphone hanging from the front of the radio, which was bolted to the floor of the Hummer between her driver and herself. “This is Charlie three-zero, over.”

“This is Charlie four-five, the advanced party has completed their sweep of the area, and it is clear, you may move the main body into the area now, over.”

“Roger. Out.” Sophie heaved a sigh of relief. They could get started, now that the advanced party had checked for enemy presence and mines. They were only going through the motions of an area check.

The unit which had been assigned to be the “enemy aggressor” for this exercise was very likely just as busy setting up the comforts of home away from home. Soldiers had priorities. Who wanted to play war games without a good night’s sleep and a full belly? Until they had set up the field dining facility, they would only have pouches of the less than appetizing MREs, in tasty selections like tuna casserole or ham and eggs. Sophie shuddered at the thought.

The wind whipped up just as the last vehicles rolled into predetermined positions around the hilltop. Soldiers scrambled urgently to unload the vehicles of their cargo. Sophie joined them as they unfolded the large canvasses and began connecting metal poles for the tents. They went up swiftly. Then soldiers scrambled over tent tops, unrolling and lifting camouflage netting with poles over the tops of the tents and vehicles, to disguise the silhouettes of the equipment beneath them.

The first sergeant found her inside a large green tent in the middle of a group of men, helping to lift a tent pole into place. “Lieutenant, may I have a word with you?”

With the pole in place, she stepped outside the tent into the brisk wind.

“Yes, Top, what can I do for you?”

“The captain told me to tell you not to do sergeants’ work. Erecting tents is sergeants’ work, ma’am.”

Nothing made her madder than someone telling her how to do her job, when she’d been doing just fine for the last three years in this unit. “Oh, he did, did he? And why didn’t he come tell me himself?”

He cleared his throat. “Uh, we’re having trouble with some of the equipment in the communications van, and he stayed with the specialist to help.”

“Well, you can just tell him—” Pausing with her mouth open and ready to spit out the next word, she realized her anger would only add fuel to the gossip’s fire. “Just tell him you delivered your message. Thank you, Top.”

As Sophie turned to go, the first sergeant placed a hand on her sleeve. She turned to face him and noticed he had a look of concern in his eyes.

“Lieutenant, the captain seems to be a fair man. You should try to talk to him and resolve whatever difficulties you two have. Otherwise, it’s going to be a long two weeks.”

“Don’t worry, Top, I plan to. I just don’t think the field is the best place to do it. Thanks for caring, and for the advice.”

---

The first sergeant walked away, shaking his head. Youth was wasted on the young.

He figured there was something going on between the lieutenant and Captain Jenkins. But Top had the good sense to keep his mouth shut.

As the first sergeant walked away, Sergeant Schott stopped him.

Schott took a drag off the cigarette in his hand and blew a stream of smoke into the wind. “You know, Top? There’s more than meets the eye between our sweet little lieutenant and the new captain, know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I guess anyone with a pair of eyes could see that, except maybe them.”

“I have a feeling this is going to be a mighty interesting field exercise, if we want it to be, if you know what I mean?”

“Yeah?” Top gave Schott a narrow-eyed glance. “Whatcha got in mind?”

“How’s about a little match-making?”

“Sounds more interesting by the second. You can count me in, as long as the lieutenant doesn’t get hurt.”

---

Sophie found it hard not to let her gaze follow the captain. He was a beautiful man, solid and tall. He had stripped off his camouflaged jacket like most of the soldiers, in deference to the extreme heat. His desert-loam-colored T-shirt clung, wet with sweat, to his broad chest. His white teeth flashed against a tanned face as he moved from one group of working soldiers to another, offering advice and lending his own aid to their efforts.

Her opinion of him as an officer jumped a few notches higher as she noted he wasn’t averse to getting his hands dirty. But it galled her that he thought she shouldn’t pitch in when he did.

Sergeants’ work, ha!

On more than one occasion, she caught him watching her. She was gratified knowing it was every bit as hard for him to pretend there was nothing between them other than professional courtesy.

The rain began to fall as the last tent, the one reserved for female officers, was being erected. Sophie would be the only occupant. The wind blew so hard now it carried their voices away, so the soldiers assisting her worked with quiet purpose. The last tent stakes were driven into rain-softened ground, and the poles went up pushing the canvas into the air.

She left her driver, Private Johnson, to set up her cot and deliver her personal bags to the tent, a task she normally would have completed herself. However, she wanted to find the commander and report the completion of camp setup.

Sophie found the Operations Van and climbed the steps. She let herself inside and barely had room to clear the door and close it behind her. There were two other soldiers besides the captain occupying the van. Good. She wouldn’t be alone with him.

“Captain, camp setup is complete.”

Without turning from what he was studying, he called over his shoulder, “Thank you, Lieutenant, you can have the soldiers turn in for the night. That will be all.”

“Yes, sir.” Resisting the urge to snap to attention and salute in the normally informal environment of the van, she made an abrupt about face, opened the door and slid right off the first step to land face first in the mud.

Just call me grace!

The three people in the van crowded at the door, trying to gauge how to get down and help her, considering she was effectively taking up all of the ground at the bottom of the steps.

“Are you all right, Lieutenant?”

Of course, the captain couldn’t have stayed in the Operations Van and ignored her little embarrassment.

“I’m fine, just fine.” As she pushed herself up in the mud, the soldiers started down the steps to assist.

“No, no,” she insisted. “I don’t need help. Nothing’s damaged except my pride. But thanks anyway. I’ll just be on my way. Carry on. Don’t worry about me.”

She turned and bolted before she uttered one more inane bit of nonsense. What was it about the captain that made her a blithering idiot in his presence?

Heading straight for the tank trailer, affectionately called the water buffalo, she scrubbed the mud off her hands and face. Then, pulling her hat off her head, she ducked beneath the faucet and rinsed the mud from her hair and neck. She could have just stood out in the rain and let it wash the mud off, but with the water buffalo, it was done much quicker, and it didn’t wash the mud down her neck and inside her shirt.

She slung her hair up to the top of her head and twisted the damp strands until they were in a small and tight enough mass to jam under her cap. Voila. Her bath for the first night was complete. It was always amazing what she would settle for when out in the field.

With rain dripping off the brim of her cap, she sloshed through the mud to her tent. The wind was picking up, driving the rain sideways, making each drop a tiny projectile, blasting against her skin. She was glad to duck under the flap into the relative calm of the interior of her very own tent. Switching on the army issue, battery-powered flashlight, she lay it on her cot, so she could see. She would be glad when they put up the light kits tomorrow.

She undressed by removing the muddy uniform jacket and draping it over the end of her cot. The ground beneath her was soggy, and she didn’t dare place too much of her things on it. Otherwise, she’d end up spending her entire two-weeks in the field in wet, smelly clothes.

Jacket removed, she was unbuttoning the top button of her uniform trousers, when she noticed the roof of the tent was leaking a steady stream of drips, which were falling right into the middle of her cot. Grumbling, she moved the cot out of the small, but steady stream of water, and spread her plastic-coated poncho over it to keep the water on the cot from soaking through to her. With the cot moved and situated, she continued to work at the buttons on her trousers. When she finally loosened all of them, she hooked her thumbs into the top of her trousers and pushed them downward.

Just as her trousers cleared her hips, the entire side of the tent flapped inward. Sophie let out a small scream and dove for the flap, knocking her cot over in the process, the army flashlight going dark as it rolled to the ground. Grabbing the side of the tent, she held on for dear life as it flapped in the gusting wind.

---

Gage was just passing the line of tents, on his way to his own, when he heard Sophie’s scream. He rushed through the door, and was immediately enveloped in complete darkness.

“Sophie...I mean, Lieutenant, are you all right?” He moved further inside feeling his way around, nearly tripping over the upended cot.

“I’m fine, but this tent is about to goooooooo!”

The wind swept under the loosened flap and filled the ceiling of the tent like a balloon, lifting it high enough to pull all the stakes from the soggy ground, allowing the poles that supported it to fall. Stubbornly holding on to the side flap, Sophie rose several inches into the air with it. When Gage’s eyes finally adjusted to the dark, he found her and quickly wrapped his arms around her to add his weight to hers. “Let it go, Sophie!”

“I can’t. It’ll blow away!”

Then, as if the storm ran out of steam, the wind died down enough for the tent to crumple inward, it’s occupants trapped and tangled beneath it.

---

Sergeant Schott and the first sergeant had just settled in for a hand of poker, when they heard a scream.

Without looking up, Sergeant Schott asked, “Suppose we oughta check it out? Could be the little lieutenant is in a bit of trouble.”

Laying a card on the field table, the first sergeant chewed on the toothpick in his mouth before replying. “I think I heard the captain. Reckon he’ll take care of things.”

The flap to their tent whipped open, and a young soldier stuck his head in the tent.

“Hey, Top, the lieutenant’s tent is down, and I think the captain and her are trapped under it. I’m going to see if I can help.” The soldier disappeared, and the flap fell back in place.

Nodding his head, the First Sergeant studied his cards a second longer then tossed them on the table. “Lousy hand, anyway. What say we check out the entertainment?”

“I’m game.” Sergeant Schott tossed his cards onto Top’s and followed him out of the tent. Several soldiers passed them on their way to the lieutenant’s tent, but soon the pair arrived at the circle of men surrounding the tent, watching instead of helping. He couldn’t see much, but Top listened in fascination to the conversation coming from beneath the crumpled tent.

“Captain, you can let go of me now.”

“Gladly, as soon as you get off my lap.”

“I would, but I can’t move,” the lieutenant said. “My trousers are down around my knees.”

“Watch where you’re putting your hands, you’re damaging the goods,” the captain said.

The mass of canvass was undulating in the near darkness, and the First Sergeant couldn’t make out two distinct forms. It looked as though only one lump moved with two voices muttering epithets.

“Well, if you would just sit still long enough for me to pull up my pants, I’d be more than willing to get off your lap,” the female voice said.

When snickers erupted amongst the audience of soldiers, the arguing ceased abruptly, and the fallen tent stopped moving, as the two occupants must have heard the growing sound of laughter.

“Hey, Lieutenant, need another hand in there?” yelled Sergeant Schott.

“Yes...No!” yelled the feminine voice.

“Hurry up and button your britches, Lieutenant,” came a muffled command.

Within just a few moments, Top could see the shapes of two people pushing against the canvas to crawl out from underneath it. They straightened slowly from their crouched positions and surveyed the men standing around them in the dark. A single soldier began to clap, joined by a few more, until the entire camp roared with applause and laughter, much to the embarrassment of the two chagrined officers. Yup, thought the first sergeant, this was going to be an interesting two weeks.