Fragment

{Fragment Titles will indicate exactly what the word means. Just a scrap of an idea floating around in my head that had to get out onto paper. No plot, no theme, not really any main characters.... Just a snippet}

I stood still, my face burning with shame and fury, as my commanding officer gave me the worst dressing-down of my career. I stood there a full minute after he left the room, my gaze fixed on the far wall, before I finally turned to face my squad.
Not a single man would meet my eyes. I stalked out the room, disgust filling my thoughts; not for my men, but disgust for me. Those men were loyal, obedient, and brave to a fault. If they would not look at me, it must be that they felt I had failed them. There was only one recourse for an officer that no longer had the trust of his men. I returned to my rooms to draft my request for dismissal from service.
Not ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I glared at the door, then ignored whoever was outside. They would not be ignored. The knocking grew more and more persistent. Aggravated, I stalked to the door and flung it open.
Every man in my squad was standing there, waiting respectfully. I saw no revulsion, no loathing, no hatred. Not even any dislike. Only respect and apology. One man stepped forward, the obvious spokesman.
"Sir, a word, if we may?"
I nodded abruptly, curious despite myself.
"What happened back there... well, we wanted to let you know that we think it was wrong. Undeserved and out of place. None of us agreed with what he said or how he said it. Even if you had done wrong, sir, he had no right to address it like that. And, well... we wanted you to know that we're still watching your back." He stepped back.
I looked at them again, carefully, letting the silence hang in the air. I saw men that I had led into battle, men I knew better than they probably knew themselves. And knowing that, I was sure they knew me better than I knew myself. A commander tries not to reveal too much to those in his command, but the way he goes about concealing it tells more about him than most realize.
"Officially," I said quietly, "I should berate every one of you for criticizing the actions of a superior officer." I stared around sternly, then my expression softened. "Unofficially, I'm grateful for your support." There was a collective sigh of relief, and I dared a smile. "I don't deserve such loyalty, but I thank you for it. What's done is done, and, knowing I have your approval, I can cast his opinion aside like so much--" I cut myself off, and the men all smiled. "You can fill that in yourself. Let's put this behind us, and never speak of it again if we can help it."
"Not even in jest, sir?" one fun-loving sergeant asked impudently.
"Especially not in jest, sergeant." I grinned suddenly. "Now, if you boys will run along, I have a resignation letter to destroy."
There was laughter as the men scattered, as they thought I was kidding. I shook my head in amusement, then went back inside. I shredded the letter I had half-finished and tossed it in the trash.