tlb
Fleet Admiral
Posts: 4437
Joined: Mon Sep 03, 2012 11:34 am
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cthia wrote:Halsey has just received orders to relieve Vice Admiral Ghormley and take command of the South Pacific area and South Pacific forces immediately.
I don't recall anyone being relieved of area command in the Honorverse. I can certainly recall several instances where relief would have been ideal, justified and prudent. I do recall Honor being sent to complement an officer's style of command, but IDSTR anyone actually being relieved of duty. Other than the beachings.
I suppose BuPers simply didn't have the same luxury of pick-n-play.
Of course, this is an example of a higher ranking officer relieving a lower ranking officer. In every case I can think of, Honor would have been relieving a higher ranking officer. Is that even done?
I am not sure if this is what you meant, but chapter 3 of The Short Victorious War has an example of an area commander being replaced by a higher ranking officer: The Hancock System's barren red dwarf had absolutely nothing to recommend it . . . except its location. It lay directly to galactic north of Manticore, ideally placed as an advanced picket for the systems of Yorik, Zanzibar, and Alizon, all members of the Kingdom's anti-Haven alliance. Perhaps more to the point, it was less than ten light-years from the Seaford Nine System, and Seaford Nine was one of the People's Republic of Haven's largest frontier bases. Which was very interesting, since Haven had absolutely nothing worth protecting within a good fifty light-years of it. "Leave it to Mark Sarnow," the earl said, and Webster groaned. "Damn it, I knew you were going to say that! He's too junior, and we both know it!" "Junior or not, he's also the man who talked Alizon into signing up with the Alliance," White Haven countered, "not to mention having set Hancock up in the first place. And if you've read my report, you know what kind of job he's been doing out there." "I'm not questioning his competence, only his seniority," Webster shot back. "No one admires the job he's done more than I do, but now that the yard facilities are coming on-line we're upgrading the station to a full task force. That means we need at least a vice admiral out there, and if I put a rear admiral—and a rear admiral of the red, at that!—in command, I'll have a mutiny on my hands." "Then promote him." "Lucien already bumped him from commodore at least two years early." Webster shook his head. "No, forget it, Hamish. Sarnow's good, but he just doesn't have the seniority for it." "So who are you thinking of putting in?" White Haven demanded, then paused with an arrested expression. "Oh, no, Jim! Not me!" "No." Webster sighed. "Mind you, there's no one I'd rather have out there, but even with the upgrade, it's only a vice admiral's slot. Besides, I want you closer to home if the fecal matter hits the rotary air impeller. No, I was thinking about Yancey Parks." "Parks?" One of the earl's mobile eyebrows rose in surprise. "He's almost as good a strategist as you are, and he's one hell of an organizer," Webster pointed out. "Why do you sound like you're trying to convince yourself of that?" White Haven asked with a small smile, and Webster snorted. "I'm not. I'm trying to convince you to agree with me." "I don't know, Jim. . . ." The earl rose, clasping his hands behind him, to take a quick turn around his study. He gazed out into the wet night for a moment, then wheeled to stare down at the crackling flames. "The thing that worries me," he said without turning his head, "is that Yancey's too much of a thinker." "Since when has that been a liability? Weren't you just objecting to Caparelli because he's not one?" "Touché," White Haven murmured with a chuckle. "Not only that, he's been working with BuPlan on the general buildup in the sector. He knows it backward and forward, and the first priority has to be getting Hancock fully operational." "That's true." The earl frowned down into the fire, then shook his head. "I don't know, Jim," he repeated. "There's just something about the idea that . . . bothers me." His hands fisted and opened behind him a time or two, then he wheeled to face the First Space Lord. "Maybe it's just that he doesn't have enough fire in his belly. I know he's got guts, but he second-guesses himself. Oh, he's got good strategic instincts when he listens to them, but sometimes he over-analyzes himself right into indecision." "I think an analyst may be exactly what we need," Webster argued, and White Haven frowned a moment longer, then snorted. "Tell you what—give him Sarnow as a squadron commander, and I'll give you my blessings." "Blackmail!" Webster grumbled around a grin. "So don't pay. You don't really need my approval, Your Lordship." "True." Webster rubbed his craggy chin, then gave a sharp nod. "Done!" he said crisply. "Good." The earl smiled and sat back down behind his desk before going on in an unnaturally casual tone. "By the way, Jim, there was something else I'd like to speak to you about while you're here." "Oh?" Webster sipped coffee, regarding his friend levelly over the cup's rim, then lowered it. "What might that be? No—let me guess. It wouldn't be your newest protégée, Captain Harrington, would it?" "I'd hardly call her that," White Haven objected. "Oh? Then it must have been someone else who's been badgering Lucien and me to get her back into space," Webster said ironically "She was Raoul's protégée, not mine. I simply happen to think she's one hell of an outstanding officer."
-- snip --
"Indeed. We gave her Nike last week." "Nike?" White Haven sat bolt upright, jaw dropping, then recovered and glared at his friend. "You bastard! Why didn't you just tell me?!" "I told you you're too easy." Webster chuckled. "Got a bit of a God complex when it comes to faith in your own judgment, too." He cocked an eyebrow. "What made you assume I didn't share your opinion of her?" "But last month you said—" "I said we had to go through channels, and we did. Now we've done it. But it was certainly worth it to see you hot and bothered." "I see." White Haven leaned back in his own chair, and his lips quivered. "All right, so you put one over on me. Next time it's my turn." "I await the event with trepidation," Webster said dryly. "Good, because I'm going to catch you when you least expect it." The earl tugged at an earlobe for a moment, then snorted. "But since you're putting her back on a bridge, why not—" "You never quit, do you?" Webster demanded. "I've just given her the plum command slot in the entire Fleet! What more d'you want from me?" "Calmly, Jim. Calmly! I was just going to say, why don't you send Nike out to Hancock Station as Sarnow's flagship when she commissions?" Webster started to reply, then stopped with an arrested expression. He played with his coffee cup for a moment, and then he began to grin. "You know, you might just have something there. Lord, won't all our other junior flag officers just howl if Sarnow cops Nike!" "Of course they will, but that wasn't my point. I assume that the fact that you're giving Harrington Nike means that despite your 'tail twisting' you share my estimate of her capabilities?" "Of course I do. She needs more seasoning before we start talking about flag rank, but she's definitely on the fast track." "Well, she could learn a lot from Sarnow, and the two of them'd get along like a house on fire," White Haven said. "More than that, frankly, I'd feel a lot better if Parks had a pair like them to keep him on his toes." "Um. I think I like it," Webster said slowly. "Of course, Yancey will have a fit. You know what a stickler for protocol and proper military courtesy he is. The way Harrington busted that asshole Houseman's chops in Yeltsin is probably going to stick in his craw." "Let it. It'll be good for him, in the long run." "All right, Hamish." The First Lord nodded crisply. "I'll do it. And I only wish I could be there to see Yancey's face when he finds out!"
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