Waiting for tomorrow...

The snail mail brought truly sucky correspondence today, of the kind that was enough to raise my systolic BP by 26 points, even though outwardly, I did my best—rather successfully, I thought—to remain calm. I will certainly have a more detached view upon rising tomorrow. Fortunately, rapid response is not required, so I can take a little time to get my head straight.

On the other hand, the email brought a truly crazy request to look at about a gigabyte of project files with a request that I let the client know, among other things, what portion of those files I can translate by COB next Friday. I spent 6 hours reviewing the material (and did not get through all of if, I might add) and then lobbed the ball back at the client: "What part do you need done, realistically speaking?" No response yet.

I watched Hell in the Pacific last night, a curious film from 1968 with Lee Marvin and Toshiro Mifune playing the roles of military men—neither of whom knows a word in the other's language, or cares to learn, for that matter—sharing a small island as castaways during World War II.

I thought the story was very well developed, up through the point where the pair manages to build and sail a home-built raft to an island that appears to be occupied... by the Japanese. The character played by Mifune here takes the initiative and advances, his hand gestures suggesting that Marvin lie low until Mifune can talk to his countrymen (presumably, out of shooting the American out of hand). Then Marvin notices that some of the garbage on the island is of US origin, whereupon he jumps up and yells (to any Americans within earshot) not to shoot Mifune.

This was all very naturally done, and all very touching. The most memorable—and revealing—line comes while Marvin is stumbling about, when suddenly, Mifune jumps noisily out from a half-demolished building. Marvin is startled by Mifune's appearance, and upon regaining his composure, says, "For a second, there, I thought you were a Jap."

From this (for me) high point, I found the rest of the film disappointing. The writing makes a point of shoving your nose into how "civilization" (exemplified by shaving, having a smoke, sharing a drink, and reading a newsmagazine filled with war news) rapidly turns the men against each other, at which point the film basically ends most perfunctorily and unsatisfactorily, in my opinion.

Still, the film was worth watching, and I'll probably watch it again, given the opportunity (just not right now).

On the plus side of the ledger, I did have ribeye for dinner! :^)

Cheers...

LJ Idol 9.14: Confession from the chair...

Emil Bor's physical demeanor, the crispness of his uniform and the manner in which he wore it (together with the medals and orders he had been awarded) was the stuff designers of military recruiting posters dream of depicting, except that high-ranking officers like Bor never appear on such posters, and in any event, Bor's service branch never made use of such vulgar, public recruitment propaganda. Bor sat behind a desk in a room that should have looked dingy, but didn't. Instead, the plain room and the furniture in it was neat and spotless and conveyed an unmistakable impression of competence, hard work, and discipline.

Two young men stood at attention in front of Bor's desk as the latter reviewed a pair of files. The men wore the uniforms of provisional lieutenants. The pressed creases on their uniforms were sharp, their shoes gleamed with polish, and the men's eyes were locked on a point about halfway up the painted concrete block wall behind Bor's chair, where there hung a portrait of The Leader. After a suitable interval, Bor closed both files and placed them atop one another, aligning them perfectly in the center of his desk.

"At ease, comrades," ordered Bor. As one, the men in front of him snapped to a no-less-formal position, with the left leg "relaxed."

"You are both to be congratulated," continued Bor. "You have completed a very arduous course of training to serve in a most trusted capacity in our country's security apparatus. Before you can assume your responsibilities as lieutenants in that apparatus, however, you both face a special challenge." Bor allowed the hint of a smile to flicker across his face before continuing.

"Comrades, we have removed your desk chairs from your office area, arrested them, and placed them in Interrogation Rooms 23 and 27 downstairs." Bor paused for a moment to let what he said sink in, and then continued. "Please understand that this is not a joke of some kind. From here, you will proceed to your respective assigned room and commence an interrogation of the chair you will find there. I will expect you to deliver a valid confession from the chair, however long the process might take. You will formally receive your assignments momentarily. Do either of you have any questions?"

"No, comrade general!" answered the men, in unison. Bor pressed a button on his desk, and said, "It is now Friday afternoon. I expect you to be finished well before Monday morning." A second or two later, an orderly opened the door to Bor's office and motioned for the men to come out. As each man left the room, he received a file from the orderly.

* * *
"So, how did our young lieutenants do?" asked Bor during an unplanned visit to his facility on Sunday. The captain on duty snapped to attention and reported.

"Comrade general, I was informed both candidates handed in completed confessions after about six hours," said the captain. "The legal department vetted both confessions as valid according to current rules and regulations. The confessions are on your desk, comrade general, awaiting your review."

"Excellent!" said Bor, and headed off to his office. Some time later, as he passed the captain on his way out of the facility, Bor said, "Please arrange for our two young fire-eaters to meet with me in their office area at 8 am, won't you?"

"Yes, comrade general!" said the captain.

* * *
The lieutenants came smartly to attention when Bor entered their room at the appointed time the next day. This room was smaller than Bor's office and looked like most other rooms at the fortress-like facility, clean but... ordinary. In addition, there was a strong feeling of imbalance in the space, which was doubtless the result of each man having a filing cabinet and desk in the room, but no chair.

"As you were," said Bor, as he closed the door behind him. After the men relaxed—to the extent lieutenants could in front of a general—Bor continued, "I wanted to come by and congratulate both of you on a job well done. I am pleased to note that you were able to fulfill the task I assigned you." Bor allowed what seemed to be a genuine smile to appear on his face. "Interrogating each other's chair is probably the last thing you ever expected to be ordered to do, am I right?" The young men allowed themselves to smile, faintly.

He turned to the lieutenant standing behind the desk to the left of the door and said, "Your interrogation was a model of propriety," said Bor. "When the chair did not answer your questions, you put down 'the accused does not deny guilt'; when the chair did not provide information in its defense, you put down 'the accused refused to provide any mitigating information'; when the chair did not sign the confession, you certified that fact and made the whole thing proper and by the rules. A textbook confession. Bravo!" The last word was uttered without much enthusiasm, however.

As if on cue, a knock came on the door.

"Enter!" said Bor. A sergeant and two enlisted men carrying a furniture dolly entered the room. Bor pointed at the desk between himself and the lieutenant and motioned the lieutenant to move out of the way.

"That said," said Bor to the lieutenant (who stared as his desk was being loaded on the dolly), "your success—compared to what your colleague was able to accomplish—fell a bit short of the mark."

Here, Bor turned his attention to the other lieutenant and said, "The confession you extracted was truly a pleasant surprise for me to read. I was particularly impressed with the scope of the confession, especially the part where," and here, Bor turned his attention back to the first man, "your chair admitted to being part of an international conspiracy against our country, and further, implicated your desk as one of the ringleaders of that conspiracy!" Bor was now pointing at the desk, which was being rolled out the door. "Your inattention to the 'big picture' indicates a certain need for 'seasoning' in the field for several years… perhaps at a remote, cold duty station… before you can be trusted with serious responsibility." After a beat, Bor said, "I trust you have learned a valuable lesson from this exercise. Report immediately to the duty officer for further instructions. Dismissed!" Visibly shaken, the man left the room directly. Under our previous Leader, thought Bor to himself as he watched the man leave the room, you would not be getting off so easily, so count yourself fortunate!

Bor then turned to the remaining lieutenant and said, "I noted with satisfaction that you were able to get the chair to sign the confession, although I must admit to being saddened by the news of the chair's fragile health and sudden demise due to splintering at the end of the interrogation. The fact you had the chair's signature witnessed was a good example of fast thinking, and saved the day. Bravo!" This time, Bor sounded like he meant it.

"Thank you, comrade general!" said the young man, almost bursting with pride.

On his way out the door, Bor turned and said to the lieutenant, "This will be your office now. I'll have our supply people come by and arrange things. While your training is far from over, I think you will go far here."