by Sandy Addson
“I’ve never heard it put in such stark terms before but yes I understand,” replied the British officer.
The silence started to build once again as the two women quietly sipped their drinks. Finally, Johnson broke the silence and asked, “Are the stories true?”
“Which stories Ma’am?” Alex genuinely didn’t know which stories the Lieutenant was talking about. And if you have done more than one thing which people are telling stories about that probably isn’t a good thing.
“About how you single handedly created the situation that forced your Army into letting women fight,” replied the young officer.
Alex chuckled and then said “Oh that. I was there, and maybe I got the puck out of our end, but it was Leftenant Grassa who put it into the net.”
When she saw that Lieutenant Johnson wasn’t satisfied with that response, Alex knew that she wasn’t going to get away without telling the full story. So, after taking another sip from her beer, Alex started in.
“It was last summer, Leftenant Grassa was in charge of the maintenance and repair platoon that I had been assigned to. We were part of 2nd Brigade’s HQ and we’d been working on repairing a number of vehicles all day. It was late, well past midnight, but we’d managed to get everything at least working ahead of the other maintenance platoons. We were just cleaning up and grabbing a mug of composite tea when the alarms for a terror raid started up. We were near the HQ and even with our limited lighting we stuck out in the night. So, we knew we were going to be a target.
“This had happened before, of course, but this time… We’d just put in all those hours getting these machines back together and here Jerry was, going to mash it all back to hell. Right then, I was too tired to be scared, instead I was pissed off. So instead of heading to a shelter and away from the fight, I did what any good soldier did; I headed towards the guns. We’d been working on some walkers that night and I knew they were ready to go. We also had ammunition on hand for test firing the machine guns to make sure the mechanisms worked, and gas in jerry cans to top off fuel tanks. So, I grabbed a box of 50 cal. and a near full jerry can and started to lug both towards one of the open Guardians.
“I was about half way there when I felt someone else take up the weight of the Jerry can and then I saw the rest of the platoon running past me heading towards the walkers. The Lieutenant then slid up next to me and said, ‘Sergeant if you’re going to do something truly stupid could you let me know first; you still need my permission.’
“I was too dumd struck to do anything but grin and speed up to a run,” Alex then paused and took a full swallow of her beer.
“And then what happened?” asked Lieutenant Johnson, her attention still fixed upon the red-haired non-com.
“Pretty much what’s in the reports. We armed up and got moving and got to the Brigade HQ just in time to sae a whole lot of brass from being killed. We saved their butts, including the Divisional Commander, who was there on an inspection. When he got over the shock of still being alive, he asked what we wanted as a reward for going above and beyond. It was the Leftenant who said we wanted the option to serve in combat,” finished Alex.
“And what was the general’s response?”
“He laughed and said he would take it ‘under advisement’. I doubt it would have gone anywhere, if it hadn’t of been for a CBC reporter, who ass we also saved. He thought that our idea had merit and made the story too large for the Army to ignore,” Alex said with a grimace, as if she was embarrassed about having to rely on the press to get what she wanted.
“Is that what you discuss in your ‘talk’?” The British woman asked changing course
Alex raised an eyebrow, and said, “Oh you’ve heard about it have you?” Every time a new walker crewman came into the platoon Alex gave them an orientation lecture, and explained what her expectations were and the realities of being a woman in combat. That this was strictly a woman only lecture and no one talked about it afterwards, had given the lecture a bit of mystique within the battalion; that according to Becky, ‘gossiped more than a bunch of spinsters making a crazy quilt’.
“Leftenant Colonel Goodbar told me about it. He said that you were going to give it to all of the British women that were joining the platoon. He also said that if I was really as smart as what I appeared to be, that I would take off my epaulettes and attend as well,” said Lieutenant Johnson with a genuine smile.
Alex smiled as well. She then gave her beer another sip. “I’ve heard worst ideas,” she said finally.
Chapter Four: The Talk
Major William Steves knew that a lot of brass was watching the Seaforths right now with all these ‘special projects’ going on. If he wanted any future in this man’s army then he wasn’t going to have any choice but to give the ‘special handling’ that the rest of the command gave to the girl walker crews and mechanics. So when Sergeant Mackenzie made the usual completely unreasonable request to use one of the lecture halls for briefing the British girls he surprised the young non-com by signing off on the request without his usual inquiries making sure that it was really needed.
Though he would never tell anyone, the truth was that he was scared of the red headed Sergeant. Lieutenant Grassa had been a pushy bitch but he could intimidate her when necessary. Mackenzie on the other hand, despite being the smallest woman in the platoon, just didn’t scare. He’d tried, and he’d seen others also try, and the Sergeant had just looked at them with those hard-grey eyes of hers that just dared you to bring your worst. According to battalion legend, when she was just a mechanic, a couple of male privates had caught her in an alleyway and brought their worst. Mackenzie had spent two weeks in the stockade for fighting. The two privates ended up being medically discharged.
Pushing those unpleasant thoughts aside, Major Steves went back to signing orders and filling forms that someone else thought were important.
**
When Alex and Ida entered the lecture room, they were greeted by ten or so British Faces of the new Walker crews and their maintenance personnel. On the one hand the sergeant felt grateful for the additional manpower but their number effectively doubled the platoon’s size which in turn meant a lot more paperwork, even if she was back to being Platoon Sergeant.
Among the waiting faces, three stood out. One was of course Lieutenant Johnson herself, sans her officer epaulettes. The other Alex recognized as one of Blastfield’s aides; one of his male aides. The last person that stood out to Alex was a young woman dressed in a mixture of civilian and military dress that marked her as one of the most quixotic of adversaries for the army: a reporter.
“Oh, this is going to be interesting,” said Ida to her shorter superior.
Alex didn’t say a word. Instead she squared her shoulders and marched brusquely up to the male lieutenant. Giving him a sharp salute, she then said “Sir this orientation is for women only.”
The British officer returned the salute with a lazy, indifferent one himself then said, “the Brigadier has assigned me as the platoon’s neutral observer. It is important that I observe all lectures and briefings of a military matter.”
“Ah, then you are not required to be here then sir, as this lecture is strictly around the issues of female hygiene within the modern combat environment. Due to its importance, it has to be a rather graphic and detailed lecture,” said Alex with an almost apologetic tone.
The lieutenant blanched as he realized what exactly Alex was talking about. With a barely audible, “yes yes quite right.” He retreated out of the room as fast as his staff legs could carry him.
There was an audible sigh of relief in the room as the door closed behind the staff officer. Turning back to Lieutenant Johnson, Alex was gratified to see a silently mouthed ‘thank you’ from the dark-haired woman.
The small Sergeant then turned her attention to the female reporter. With no military etiquette whatsoever, Alex marched up to the reporter and said, “You’re leaving too.”
Alex’s voice was cold and
her eyes took on a glassy shine. The temperature dropped several degrees as the mood in the room went from lighthearted and jovial to serious as everyone realized that violence was just moments away.
The reporter looked shocked by Alex’s statement and the very real danger she felt herself in. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, the reporter gathered up her things and quietly followed the male officer out of the room.
As she went by, Ida whispered “smart choice” to the reporter. From experience Ida knew that despite her size Alex Mackenzie was one of the most dangerous people in the battalion. She had absolutely no qualms about using violence, nor about killing for that matter. In confrontations with drunken soldiers or rampaging zombies Alex never backed down and wasn’t afraid to be messy when she had to be. That she backed up that attitude with the savage skills that modern warfare had taught her; made Alex a dangerous person whether in a walker or not.
Once the reporter left the room, Alex turned to the rest of the women and said “Right, now that the distractions have been removed, I expect to have your full attention. And as my old mechanics instructor used to say ‘the only dumb question is the one not asked’ if you have a question, I will take them at the end of the lecture. If you can’t remember what the question was by then, it must not have been very important in the first place. Clear!”
“Yes Sergeant!” replied the entire room as one.
Alex just nodded, and then started into her standard orientation speech that Ida had heard many times before.
“Welcome to the Seaforth Highlanders of Canada. You are joining the best battalion of the best brigade of the best division of the best army that the allies have. The Seaforths have seen near continuous combat since 1943 and we have the scars and bragging right that comes with that level of fighting. The walker platoon might be the newest part of the battalion and we might not always be welcome by other members of the unit, but you will give it the respect that it deserves. Clear?”
“Yes Sergeant!” was the reply.
“Good. Now unlike our allies, the Canadian Army has dispersed its walkers among its infantry battalions as part of its support company, along with its anti-tank guns, mortars, Bren carriers and pioneers. This has allowed the walkers to train with the infantry and the Alfreds to become an effective fighting whole. As a result, we’re able to accomplish the same combat mission as an American or British battalion but with three quarters of the personnel,” continued Alex.
Watching from the sidelines Ida noted some disbelief on the British faces. It didn’t surprise her, since the First World War, Canadians have been showing the ‘senior force’ how to fight smarter, not just harder; often to little effect and even less credit.
Alex ploughed on, “By now I’m sure you’ve all experienced at least one of Jerry’s terror raids. If not then you soon will, because it is the favorite tactical engagement for him in the Canadian sector. From brutal experience we have learned that walkers are best equipped to counter these terror attacks. As a result, standard operating procedure for a Battalion in the rear area is to have half of its walker platoon on standby during the night ready to respond to a raid. The other half is to be kept combat ready and expected to follow the active half of the platoon into combat as quickly as humanly possible. If the original crew is not available in a timely manner then maintenance personnel will take their place. Clear!”
“Yes Sergeant,” said the rest of the room.
“Now such a high tempo of readiness combined with the fact that during an attack we’re on the bleeding edge will lead to a lot of pressure upon all personnel. Try to be as supportive of each other as possible. Now is not the time to undercut each other, especially in front of any male personnel. They already think that we don’t belong here, don’t give them additional dirt to bury us with.
“Further regarding men; best not to trust any of them. Now I assume that all of you have received your contraception shots before being sent to the front?” Alex asked.
When she saw all the nods Alex said “Good. Now I assume they’re still pushing that bullshit about protecting you from pregnancy in case you’re captured? Well the truth is that you have a lot more to fear from Canadian dicks than German. That is why you will never go anywhere on base by yourself. Always move in groups of two or more. This is especially the case with going to the latrine, the showers, or anywhere else where you may be caught in a vulnerable position. As well, as part of your kit you will be issued with a set of Canadian Women’s Mark 1 brass knuckles,” said Alex as she held up her own set.
With a nod from Alex, Ida started to hand out the knuckles to all the women in the room.
“You will keep them within arm’s reach at all times, and you will not hesitate to use them on any man who appears to be having ill intentions towards you; no matter the rank. I want to really stress this. If you feel that the division commander himself is not taking the hints. Use his balls as a punching bag with these and report the incident to me or the Leftenant right away. If we can get ahead of the story, we can hopefully keep you out of the stockade,” said Alex
Ida looked over towards the new Lieutenant whose eyes were wide and her complexion had turned a Zombie’s white. Obviously, she hadn’t known that she’d be volunteered as part of Alex’s ‘punch the Division Commander and we’ll try and get you out of it’ promise. But to her credit she didn’t contradict Alex and just let her continue.
“By the way, the chances of the male soldier getting changed are next to zero. So, don’t expect ‘official channels’ to protect you. However, at least in this battalion it’s well known that all women carry these knuckles and that we’re not afraid to use them. So, we’ve largely got the problem licked in house. However, others are not aware so be careful.
Ida noticed that Alex made no comment about the other reason why women inside of the unit generally didn’t have to worry about the rest of the battalion and that was Alex herself. Like a lot of other Sergeants Alex was more than willing to use back of the barrack discipline and that if she tangled with a man that had threatened one of her girls, they’d be found later alive but temporarily combat ineffective. The other Sergeants were well aware of this and came down hard on their own men because they knew if they didn’t Alex would.
Ida didn’t know how the other battalions handled these issues, only that things hadn’t gotten out of hand in the Seaforths and that couldn’t be said about the army as a whole.
“Alright now that we’ve dealt with the problems unique to women in combat, lets deal with some other issues,” said Alex as she pulled out a tanker’s helmet from her rucksack.
“This is the current issue helmet for all tank and walker crews. While you are in this platoon, when you are in your walker, you will wear your issued helmet at all times. I know the tankers and quite a few walker crews like their more stylish berets. However, there are good reasons to wear a helmet. Sergeant,” said Alex as she gestured to Ida.
Ida then pulled out her own helmet. It had obviously seen some use, being dented and nicked in over a dozen places.
“How many combat missions has that helmet seen?” asked Alex.
“Two Sergeant,” replied Ida.
There was an audible gasp from the room.
“You’d be surprised how motivating people trying to kill you is when it comes to how hard you’ll maneuver your walker. Keep that in mind next time you to want complain about helmet hair,” Alex said.
Her role in the lecture complete, Ida watched Alex go onto other matters and then answer a dozen inane questions at the end of the lecture. Looking over the new members of the platoon she was glad to see that the new Lieutenant had taken a lot of what Alex was saying to heart. This bode well as far as Ida was concerned. Any officer who was willing to learn was okay in Ida’s book.
Chapter Five: Preparation
With the breaking-in of a new officer and the initial talk to new recruits over and done with, all that was left was fighting and winning the war. The
wiser heads at 21st Army Group decided that it was time for the Canadians to get back onto the offensive.
For the past two years, the Allies had tried to breach the German Rhine defense to the South without much success. Finally, someone at SHAFE had looked at a map and realized that the entire Canadian 1st Army was actually north of the Rhine and maybe it might be a good idea to try attacking there for once.
Or at least that’s how many officers with the 1st Canadian Army felt as they found out that it was going to be their sector that was going to kick off the Spring offensive of 1947. The overall offensive would be of two parts. The 1st Canadian Corps with the three Canadian Infantry Divisions and the two independent Armoured Brigades would punch through the deeply layered German defences along the Dutch border creating a corridor that the 2nd Canadian Corps, which had the two Canadian Armoured Divisions, would then use to breakthrough to the North German Plain and onto Osnabruck. The Dutch Corps with two Dutch Infantry Divisions and what remained of the 1st Polish Armoured Division would be held in reserve to either check a German counter attack too strong for the Canadians or to keep the corridor between the Canadian lines and Osnabruck open. The entire U.S. 9th Army was ready to swing north and push on to Hamburg if the Canadians succeeded in their attacks.