Free The Hunting Trip by III William E. Butterworth

Army
. The others were of various colors, including one that was startlingly purple.
    And they had different license plates. Two had large, egg-shaped plates with black numbers and letters on a white background. Both plates had the letter
B
followed by numbers on them. Phil thought the
B
might have something to do with Berlin. One of them, which was dark blue in color, had an American-shaped white license plate with the legend
US GOVT
above its numbers. The remaining four Beetles also had white plates and numbers, but their legend read
US of AMERICA
.
    â€œHere we are,” the driver of the Volkswagen said, as he pulled to a stop beside its cousins.
    The driver, a large young man in civilian attire—a corduroy jacket and khaki pants—was not very loquacious.
    When Phil had been claiming his luggage at the airfield, which was called Tempelhof, the driver had walked up to him and inquired, “Williams, P.?”
    When Phil had replied in the affirmative, the driver had picked up one of Phil’s suitcases, announced, “I’ve got the EXPLETIVE DELETED!! driver duty,” and motioned for Phil to follow him.
    The driver assisted Phil with his luggage, carrying his suitcases into the foyer of the building. Once there, he pointed to a door, put the suitcase on the floor, and walked back outside.
    Phil went to the door and knocked.
    â€œCome.”
    Phil went inside.
    A heavyset man in his early thirties in a gray flannel suit rose to his feet from behind a desk.
    â€œWilliams, P.?” the man inquired.
    â€œYes, sir.”
    The man examined him carefully.
    â€œYou have made a good first impression, Williams. The last three replacements Holabird sent us were sartorial disasters. One of them was actually wearing cowboy boots and blue jeans, and another a baseball cap with the brim turned sideways.”
    â€œYes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
    â€œI’m the first sergeant, Williams. As I’m sure you know, first sergeants are not addressed as ‘sir.’ I am also a CIC special agent. You may therefore call me, at your option, either ‘Special Agent Dumbrowski’ or ‘Mr. Dumbrowski.’”
    â€œYes, Mr. Dumbrowski.”
    â€œI am now going to send you in to meet Supervisory Special Agent O’Reilly, who commands the Thirty-third CIC Detachment. He likes to become personally acquainted with all newcomers.
    â€œBut before I actually do that, CIC Administrator Williams, there are certain things I wish to bring to your attention. First, Supervisory Special Agent William O’Reilly is a lieutenant colonel of Infantry, pay grade O-5. He is also a graduate of the United States Military Academy at West Point. With me so far?”
    â€œYes, Mr. Dumbrowski.”
    â€œNow, I am sure in your previous uniformed service you were trained in, and, it is to be hoped, became proficient in practicing the protocol one follows when first meeting one’s new commanding officer, to wit: The newcomer marches into the commander’s office, stops four feet—no more, no less—from the commanding officer’sdesk, where he comes to attention, salutes, and says, ‘Sir, STATE NAME AND RANK reporting to the commanding officer for duty, sir.’ You are familiar with this protocol?”
    â€œYes, Mr. Dumbrowski.”
    â€œGood. Now we are not required here in the Thirty-third to follow this protocol, because we are in civilian attire, and one does not salute when so attired. Nor are we required to use the term ‘sir’ when addressing another member of the CIC family, even if we are aware that the individual is a commissioned officer.
    â€œHaving said that, CIC Administrator Williams, I suggest that when Supervisory Special Agent O’Reilly gives you permission to enter his office, you march into his office, stop four feet—no more, no less—from his desk, come to attention, and without saluting, repeat, without saluting, say,