Return to Holliday Creek (5)

A Team Is Formed

          -By Robert Faulkender ©

Villa leads his band

First Sergeant Bill Hicks was a solid, practical man with good organizational skills and an eye for talent. He wasn’t the usual top kick who could talk louder, shoot straighter, and lick any man who questioned his orders. He had the quiet self-assurance of infallibility. He didn’t look like much: barely five foot five and, not fat so much as, thick and balding. But his smile was infectious. When he flashed it, even the ugliest orders became a pleasure to obey.

     Hicks had been a platoon sergeant back when Private Ted Skillman—on the run, looking for adventure-- had enlisted. It struck Hicks that this young kid had a lot more mileage on him then others his age. The sergeant finessed Skillman into his platoon. Neither was sorry.

     Hicks groomed the man. He assigned him all the responsibility Ted could handle, to the point of overload. But, along with the missions, Hicks delegated the authority to make decisions, and cut him a little slack in which to maneuver. Ted Skillman shined.

    Now, Hicks watched from the Headquarters stoops while his protégé marched four bandits though the camp gates. He took pride in the leader and his men. “Where the Hell you been, Skillman?  You let Poncho Villa escape, and then you saunter in here as though catching four desperados can get you off the hook.” 

     Ted had learned from Hicks long ago to credit success to your subordinates, and take responsibility for failure as the leader. Skillman came back in the same tone. “It’s all Corporal Grimes’ fault, Top. He got so carried away with that dam French piece of junk; drove away the whole Villa mob before I could get to it.”

   The First Sergeant made a mental note of trooper Grimes. “The Old Man wants to see you when you have turned that trash into the stockade.”

    The troop commander, Captain Daily, was pacing the orderly room when Skillman entered. The smile on the Captain’s face turned up the corners of his handlebar mustache; gave him a happy surprised look. “Seems you’ve had a good day, sergeant. Come into my office.” 

     Daily pointed, “Have a seat, sergeant,” and the captain sat down behind his desk. “You know, this whole thing is going to blow up into something big. The colonel has already sent three telegraphs to Washington. It’s not just a little boarder incident; it’s an invasion of the United States of America and we don’t dare let it stand.”

     Two knocks; the office door opened. “First Sergeant Hicks reporting as ordered.” A salute. Captain Daily waved his right hand in the vicinity of his forehead. His mustache drooped. 

     “Have a seat, Top.” He continued. “You two plan to muster out within the next ninety days, right?” Both men nodded. 

" There's been a change of plans."