"Oh, I can do it," I shrugs. "The trouble is it might involve striking a non-commissioned officer ... which I seem to recall from our Military Law lesson is a no-no."

The sergeant's smile fades a bit, and I realize he has been expectin' me to withdraw from this exercise when he feeds me the cue. Unfortunately for both of us, this realization comes a little late to do us any good.

"Don't worry about that, 'Cruit!" he sez, though I notice his voice has gotten tighter. "Even if you get real lucky and tag me, you're acting under orders so no charges will be brought."

That was all I needed to hear. As a last precaution, I glance back at Nunzio where he's standin' in line, and he gives me a little nod with his head.

"Your cousin can't help you now. Guide," Smiley snaps, regainin' a bit of confidence. "This is between you and me."

That wasn't why I was checkin' with Nunzio, but I have no trouble goin' with the flow, bein' real adaptable when the music is startin' and I am one of the designated dancers.

"I was just wonderin'," I sez with a shrug. "It's nice to know you know I'd be under orders. The question is whether or not that officer knows it."

Now the sergeant is no dummy and I really don't expect him to fall for the old "there's someone behind you" gag ... but he does. It isn't until much later that I find out non-coms have a real thing about officers. That is, they are comfortable runnin' the army ... unless there is an officer somewhere in witnessin' range. Anyway, Smiley starts cranin' his neck around tryin' to spot the officer to which I am referrin', and when his head is turned away from me, I glide in on him.

If this tactic sounds a little strange to you, realize that if someone waves a sharpened hunk of metal at you, the last thing they are expectin' is for you to charge them. What you are supposed to do is freeze up, or better yet run, thereby givin' them ample leisure time to carve their initials on whatever portion of your anatomy is handiest. When you move forward instead of back, it tends to startle them, and they usually react by pokin' at you with their weapon to try to get you to back off like the script says. This is really what you want, as it has put you in control of their attack and lets you bring it in where and when you want it instead of just standin' and hopin' they'll go away while they play around on their own timetable.

The sergeant sees me comin' out of the corner of his eye, and, just like I expect, he sticks his sword out like he's hopin' I'll run into it and save him the trouble of havin' to plan and execute an attack of his own. This makes it easy for me to weave past his point and latch onto the wrist of his sword arm with my left hand, which keeps the weapon out of mischief and me, whilst I give him a medium strength pop under the ear with my right fist.

It was my genuine hope that this would end the affair without further waltzin', but the sergeant is still a pretty tough old bird and it only crosses his eyes and drops him to one knee. I realize the situation has just become dangerous, as he still has hold of his sword and in his dazed condition may not remember that this is only an exercise ... if that was his original intention at all.

"Give it up, Sarge," I hisses quiet-like, steppin' in close so's only he can hear me. "It's over."

Just to be on the safe side I wind his arm up a little as I am sayin' this to prove my point. Unfortunately, he either doesn't hear me or chooses to ignore what you must admit is excellent advice, and starts strugglin' around tryin' to bring his sword into play.

"Suit yourself," I shrugs, not really expectin' a response, as at that moment he faints, mostly because I have just broken his arm ... for safety sake, mind you. (For the squeamish readers, I will hasten to clarify that this is a clean break as opposed to the messier compound variety, and that it probably wouldn't have put the sergeant out if he hadn't been woozy already from the clout I have just laid on him. As I have noted before, controlled violence is my specialty ... and I'm very good at it.)

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ..."

These last words come from Corporal Whittle who has come alive far too late and tries to intervene after the dance is already done. The incomplete nature of his question is due to the fact that, as he is steppin' forward, he runs into a high swing from Nunzio's elbow goin' in the opposite direction, which effectively stretches him out on his back and turns his lights out ... and also stops his annoyin' prattle. For the record, this is what the earlier exchange between Nunzio and me was all about ... my makin' sure he was in position and willin' to cover my back while I dealt with the sergeant.

There is a moment's silence, then someone in the ranks lets out a low, surprised whistle, which seems to cue everyone to put in their two cents worth.

"Wow!"

"Nice goin', Swatter!!"

" 'Bout time someone taught him to..."

Hy Flie starts nudgin' the corporal's nappin' form with his toe.

"They don't look so big lying down, do they, Swatter?" he grins, like he took the two of 'em out all by himself.

"AT EASE! ALL OF YOUSE!!" I bellows, cuttin' the discussion off short, "If you touch that man again, Hy, you and I are gonna go a couple rounds. YOU UNNERSTAND ME??"

He looks surprised and hurt, but nods his agreement.

"I can't hear you!!!"

"YES, SAR ... I mean, GUIDO!!"

"THAT GOES FOR THE REST OF YOUSE TOO!" I snarls. "I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU KICKIN' EITHER OF THESE TWO, OR MAKIN' FUN OF THEM UNLESS YOU'RE WILLIN' TO DO THE SAME THING WHEN THEY'RE AWAKE AND ABLE TO HIT BACK. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR??"

"YES, GUIDOW."

As might be noticed in my manner, I am a bit annoyed at this point, but mostly with myself. I am genuinely irked that I was unable to squelch the sergeant's move without havin' to break his arm, and am quite willin' to take my anger out on the crew. If my speech pattern when addressin' my colleagues seems uncharacteristic, it is because I discovered quickly that the army's non-coms have a point ... it is the easiest way to shout at an entire formation at the same time.

"Okay, now LISTEN UP!! As Actin' Squad Leader, I am the rankin' individual present until such time as the sergeant and corporal regain consciousness. I want one volunteer to get a medic for these two, while the REST OF US CONTINUE WITH THE TRAININ' EXERCISE!!"

This strikes me as the logical course to follow, as I am not eager to lose a day's trainin' whilst waitin' for our non-coms to wake up. At this point, however, I notice my cousin has raised his hand politely for my attention.

"Yes, Nunzio? Are you volunteerin' to go for a medic?"

"Not really, Acting Squad Leader Guide, sir," he sez, sarcastic-Iike. "I was just thinking that, before you assumed command, it might be wise for you to check in with the officer over there who is the ranking individual present."

Now, as youse will recall, when I pulled this gag on the sergeant, it was a ploy to divert his attention. I've played Dragon Poker with Nunzio though, and I can tell when he's bluffin' ... and this time he wasn't. With a sinkin' feelin' in my stomach, I turn to look in the direction he is pointin'. Sure enough, there is an officer there, the first I have seen outside of our lectures. What is worse, he is comin' our way with a real grim look on his face.

"Stand easy, Guido."

I switch from Attention to At Ease, which is not to say I am at ease at all. I have been summoned to the Officer's Tent, which is not surprisin' as it is obvious I am gonna take some kinda flack for the afternoon's skirmish. What does take me off guard is that Sergeant Smiley is there as well, sportin' a sling for his arm and a deadpan expression.

"Sergeant Smiley here has given me his version of what's been going on with your training group that led up to the event I witnessed this afternoon. Would you like to tell me your side of the story?"