Sons of Fortune

“Don’t remind me,” Jimmy replied. “You know that they’re now cheering her at the beginning and end of every lecture she gives.”

“So when does the ethics committee convene to make its decision?”

“Next Wednesday at ten o’clock. It’s going to be a media field day. I just wish my father wasn’t coming up for reelection in the fall.”

“I wouldn’t worry about your father,” said Fletcher. “My bet is that he’ll have already found a way of turning the problem to his advantage.”

Nat had never expected to come into contact with his commanding officer, and wouldn’t have done so if his mother hadn’t parked her car in the colonel’s reserved space. When Nat’s father spotted the sign COMMANDANT, he suggested she should quickly reverse. Susan reversed a little too quickly, and collided with Colonel Tremlett’s jeep just as he swung in.

“Oh, God,” said Nat as he leaped out of the car.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” said Tremlett. “Colonel will do just fine.”

Nat leaped to attention and saluted as his father surreptitiously checked the commandant’s medals. “We must have served together,” he said, staring at a red and green ribbon among the cluster on his chest. The colonel looked up from studying the dent in his fender. “I was with the Eightieth in Italy,” Nat’s father explained.

“I hope you maneuvered those Shermans a damn sight better than you drive a car,” said the colonel as the two men shook hands. Michael didn’t mention that it was his wife who was driving. Tremlett looked at Nat. “Cartwright, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” said Nat, surprised that the commanding officer knew his name.

“Your son looks as though he’s going to be top of his class when he graduates next week,” Tremlett said, turning his attention back to Nat’s father. He paused, “I may have an assignment in mind for him,” he added without explanation. “Report to my office at eight tomorrow morning, Cartwright.” The colonel smiled at Nat’s mother, and shook hands once again with his father, before turning back to Nat. “And if I can see a dent in that fender when I leave tonight, Cartwright, you can forget your next furlough.” The colonel winked at Nat’s mother as the boy sprang to attention and saluted again.

Nat spent the afternoon on his knees with a hammer and a pot of khaki paint.

The following morning, Nat arrived at the colonel’s office at seven forty-five, and was surprised to be ushered straight through to see the commandant. Tremlett pointed to a chair on the other side of his desk.

“So you’ve stood up and been counted, Nat,” were the colonel’s first words as he glanced down at his file. “What do you want to do next?”

Nat looked across at Colonel Tremlett, a man with five rows of ribbons on his chest. He’d seen action in Italy and Korea and had recently returned from a tour of duty in Vietnam. His nickname was “the terrier,” because he enjoy

ed getting so close to the enemy that he could bite their ankles. Nat responded to his question immediately. “I expect to be among those posted to Vietnam, sir.”

“It’s not necessary for you to serve in the Asian sector,” said his CO. “You’ve proved your point, and there are several other postings I can recommend, ranging from Berlin to Washington, D.C., so that once you’ve completed your two years, you can return to university.”

“That rather defeats the object, doesn’t it, sir?”

“But it’s almost unknown to send an enlisted officer to ’Nam,” said the CO, “especially one of your caliber.”

“Then perhaps the time has come for someone to break the mold. After all, that’s what you keep reminding us leadership is all about.”

“What if I asked you to complete your service as my staff officer, then you could assist me here at the academy with the next intake of recruits?”

“So that they can all go off to Vietnam and get themselves killed?” Nat stared across the table at his CO. He immediately regretted overstepping the mark.

“Do you know who the last person was who sat there and told me he was determined to go to ’Nam, and nothing I could say would change his mind?”

“No, sir.”

“My son, Daniel,” replied Tremlett, “and on that occasion I had no choice but to accept his decision.” The colonel paused, glancing at a photo on his desk that Nat couldn’t see. “He survived for eleven days.”

Woman lecturer seduces Senator’s son, screamed the banner headline in the New Haven Register.

“That’s a bloody insult,” said Jimmy.

“What do you mean?” asked Fletcher.

“I seduced her.”

When Fletcher stopped laughing, he continued to read the front page article: