a surrender - 2
(Continuing "a surrender," chapter one, "surrender")
The young officer hesitated, surprised and a little flustered. This was not a common thing, an officer returning from an unauthorized absence. I wouldn’t have known how to deal with it, if I was on watch. He picked up the phone. I glanced at the marine, but if he had heard me, he showed no sign of it.
After that it was like I entered a surreal dream, a dream, I was sure, that would end with me waking up in a jail cell. I wasn’t allowing myself to feel much of anything. I just reacted mechanically to what came at me. I’d been away from the ship, without leave, for almost five months. So I expected to be arrested immediately. But I wasn’t. There seemed to be some confusion about what to do with me at first. I got the impression that I wasn’t being taken to the ship’s jail, the brig, because I was an officer. Then I was told that I would be temporarily assigned to a desk job somewhere onboard. Probably not in the reactor department, where I had been working, since most everything there was classified. But when I made it clear that I would not wear my uniform, that plan was dropped. I was put in a bunk room in the upper part of the ship, used by officers in the air wing, where I wasn’t likely to see anyone from my old department. This was fine with me. I preferred to avoid anyone who knew what I had done. Part of the reason I didn’t want to put on my officer uniform was that I didn’t think anyone should have to salute me or call me “sir,” especially those people who knew that I didn’t deserve that honor anymore. So I was relieved to be mostly unknown for those first few confusing days.
But my old roommate found out where I was and came to see me. We had not been close friends; we just shared an apartment in town. But he seemed eager to talk to me now. I’d made an effort not to inconvenience him when I left, paying the rest of my half of the rent in advance, and leaving extra money to deal with the things I left in the apartment. He didn’t mention that, though, or want to hear much about what had happened to me in the months that I’d been away. He seemed more interested in letting me know about our department head, who was due to transfer off the ship soon. My roommate excitedly told me our department head would not be taking command of a ship, but would be transferring to a shore command, a less desirable assignment. Apparently my old boss had suggested that my going AWOL had somehow contributed to this. My roommate seemed to think so, and was glad about it. He didn’t much like our department head. Few of us did. I thanked him for coming to see me. But I couldn’t feel much besides the dread of what was going to happen next.
Then I remember waiting outside the office of the executive officer, the XO. I was there because I had refused to wear my uniform. The XO was the ship’s second in command, in charge of all disciplinary actions on the ship. He far outranked me. I was a junior officer, only two years out of training, and I had never talked to him before. When I was called in, I stepped in front of his desk and stood at attention. He told me he was giving me a direct order to put my uniform on, so I could serve in one of the offices while I waited for the legal process to begin. I don’t remember exactly what I said. It was something like, “I can’t do that, sir. It’s not right.” I spoke calmly but my knees felt weak. My face seemed to twitch and tremble and it was all I could do to hold it still. He looked at me for a moment. Then he dismissed me.
Those few simple words I had said would get me in even more trouble, I knew. My punishment would be worse. But wasn’t that what I had come back for?
Continued...
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