“Bud draft please,” Jackie asked the bartender as he slid onto a barstool. He was the only customer sitting at the bar while just two of the dozen or so tables were occupied. “Slow night with all the snow huh?” Jackie offered as the bartender set the frosty cold mug of beer in front of him.
Yeah, we had a pretty good lunch rush when the snow stopped there for awhile, but looks like this is gonna keep up through the night.
The juke box played a Joe Satriani tune while Jackie watched the muted television over the bar, chuckling at some weather babe pointing out the obvious, it was snowing out. He looked around the pub, admiring the motif with what looked like authentic Irish artifacts hanging on the dark green walls. “Homey,” he thought to himself.
“Mr. O’Shea?” First Sergeant Mark McGowan asked as he took off his snow dusted Army issued black trench coat and extended his hand.
“Yeah, how’d you guess?” Jackie asked smiling and taking the soldier’s offered hand firmly.
“Why don’t we get a table?” McGowan asked and turned to the bartender, “I’ll have one of those and get him another. Is the kitchen open tonight?”
“Yes sir, anything off the dinner menu,” the bartender replied.
“I’ll take a bowl of your chili, they have the best chili in all of Long Island here Mr. O’Shea, you want some?”
“No thanks and if you don’t stop calling me ‘Mr. O’Shea,’ I’m leaving,” Jackie stated.
“OK, one bowl of chili and what the hell, bring a pitcher of beer, we’ll be over here, that good with you Jack?” the soldier asked.
“Yes sir.”
“Jack, call me Mark,” Mark McGowan said very deadpan, pausing to look the young man straight in the eye. “OK?”
“Yes, s… you got it Mark,” he said.
“Jack, I want to begin with an apology. From what I’ve been able to put together, we really screwed the pooch on this. I reviewed your qualification records and to be honest, there really isn’t any reason we couldn’t have pulled you an aviation job. I can’t make you a pilot, but something in aviation is certainly feasible,” Mark paused as the waitress brought the pitcher of beer and two frosted mugs.
“I have to be honest though Jack, I’m not able to get you any kind of cash bonus nor can I promise an assignment in Hawaii. Guaranteed assignments…”
“What are you talking about?” Jackie asked, somewhat confused.
“Wasn’t the reason you walked out of the MEPS last week because you wanted, and weren’t offered, one- an aviation job, two- a cash bonus, and three- a guaranteed assignment to Hawaii?” Mark asked suddenly feeling as if he hadn’t been given accurate information.
“You can do that?? Guarantee Hawaii?” Jackie asked incredulously. “Look, all I asked for was a job in aviation that would offer me a chance to fly helicopters, I don’t know anything about a cash bonus or Hawaii, but I do know that the jerk who was pushing some scout job wouldn’t even listen to what I had to say.”
“19 Delta, cavalry scout, that’s what I was before switching over to recruiting,” the first sergeant offered. “Jack, I’m afraid I owe you an even bigger apology. Somebody handed me a line of shit to try and make you look bad, or them good.”
“Hamilton,” Jack blurted.
Mark McGowan looked at Jack for what seemed like a long, silent moment before asking, “Why do you say that Jack?”
Jack told him about the phone conversation he had with the station commander a few days ago and could see that First Sergeant McGowan was becoming visibly angry as he listened to Jackie’s count of what transpired. So much so that he hardly touched his chili. Then he asked Jackie to start from the beginning, the moment he first met with his recruiter. Jack did.
“Did Staff Sergeant Lewis ever promise you an aviation job or a cash bonus or anything like that?”
“No, Chris was really straight up with me. He told me that my scores were very good and that I had a good shot at getting the job I wanted, but there just was no way for him to know what was available. He did say that with my college I could come in as a ‘first class’ instead of a private,” Jackie explained.
“How many college credits do you have Jack?” McGowan asked.
“I dropped out of Syracuse University after my junior year with 82 semester hours.”
“Lewis is correct, you qualify to join as a Private First Class which equates to more money in your paycheck.”
After an awkward pause and a pull from his beer, the first sergeant went out on a limb and asked, “Jack, what would it take to get you into my Army?”
“An aviation job, a cash bonus, and an assignment to Hawaii,” Jackie answered smiling broadly. Then more seriously said, “Just the aviation job Mark, but Hamilton told me that he’d make sure I could never join ‘his Army.’”
“Hamilton will no longer be working for me starting tomorrow morning Jack. What say we get you back to the MEPS, it won’t take all day like last time since you’ve completed everything, and if I can’t pull that aviation job for you, you won’t hear from me or any of my recruiters again?”
“I don’t know Mark, can I think on it?” Jackie asked.
“No problem Jack, just call me when you’re ready,” Mark told him, handing him a business card.
“C’mon I’ll give you a lift home,” the first sergeant said, pulling a $20.00 bill from his wallet and dropping it on the table.
Sgt Hook out.
Editor’s Note: If you’re just joining in on the Jackie O’Shea series, you can catch up in an organized fashion here.
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