Mind the Gap: a Spy School Collection

An Operator and His Aviator

Camp Dwyer

Helmand Province

Afghanistan

December 21st, 2015

2210

MSgt Schacter POV

I had just finished debriefing and the rest, and the men of Marine Special Operations Team "Hitman 1" were all squared away. Cap'n was taking care of the rest of the administrative details, while Robbie was getting patched up by the corpsmen in the field hospital.

But, I still had one job to do: give some pilots of VMA-223, the "Bulldogs," a little thank-you for the close air support they gave us on the op earlier today. When we were pinned by Taliban fighters, danger close fires (gun runs and Hydra 70 rockets) from Stone 3-1 and Stone 3-2 unpinned us.

Yes, their squadron nickname is "Bulldog" while their callsign is "Stone." It's a pilot thing, I guess.

Nonetheless, I owed one of the flyboys a beer. As for Stone 3-1, I had something special in mind.

I arrived at their hooch, removing my cover as I entered the building. It didn't take long to find the Harrier-flying Marines of the squadron, all talking and laughing over something or the other. This included Lieutenant Colonel Rick "Ice Cube" Basley, the commanding officer; Major Phil "Nuke" Keating, the executive officer; Captain Sean "Granite" Jones, or "Stone 3-2," and of course, my personal favorite...

"Evenin' gentlemen, ma'am," I greeted, making their heads spin my way, including the most beautiful aviator of them all: Captain Molly Schacter, otherwise known as my wife

"Evening, Mass Sarn't," Basley greeted, with the rest of the boys greeting in kind. "What can we do for you?"

"I owed Cap'n Jones somethin', sir," I replied, extending the cold beer towards the captain, which he accepted with glee. "Thanks for savin' our tails."

"No problem," Jones replied with a handshake. "Nice work out there, Mass Sarn't!"

"Also, would the Colonel mind if I borrowed Cap'n Schacter for a bit?"

"We're all good here, Mother. Go have some fun," Basley chuckled, nodding at her.

My wife's nickname had many variations—"Ma," "Moms," "Mama Bird"—depending on which pilot you ask, but it's always centered around "Mother," given her motherly disposition and that she's older than her entire squadron, save for Basley.

Coincidentally, I had earned the nickname "Father" from the manner in which I handled my Marines as a squad leader in the infantry. I did everything from picking up the men that drank too much, to cracking puns, to pulling them aside and ensuring they were doing all right. This behavior persisted during my time in Force Recon and MARSOC, with the nickname sticking.

As such, the running joke is that our children consist of our two sons and—at minimum—a few platoons' worth of adopted Marines.

"Well, in that case, you may, Mass Sarn't," Molly said with a coy smile.

"See ya, Moms!" Jones said, with the rest of the pilots bidding similar farewells to their squadron's mother figure. With that, the two of us left the room and moved for the exit.

"Hey," she said as we stepped out into the cold night.

"Is there something I can do for the Captain?" I replied with a grin as I put on my cover and looked down at her.

"Well," she began. "You could drop the 'Captain,' Mr. Schacter."

"If the Captain so pleases..." I began, chuckling as she lightly bumped against my side, a similar smile on her face. "Alright, alright, Mrs. Schacter."