by C. X. Moreau
Griffin and Slocum answered “Yes, sir” in unison and stood silently while the Captain turned and walked down the dim corridor toward the battalion operations center. Slocum slapped Griffin on the chest lightly and said, “What the fuck got into him? He seemed almost human for a minute there.”
“He’s not so bad, Bobby. He’s damn sure better than the rest of them. At least he had the balls to come and say something to us. All the others are more than willing to look the other way while the witch-hunt takes place.”
Slocum shook his head slowly in an obvious air of disgust. “Are you fuckin’ crazy, Dave? Were we listening to the same conversation or what? That fuckin’ idiot just told us to trust the system. He has to be kidding! What system is he talkin’ about?”
Slocum looked at his friend and continued, “Was he referring to the system that taught us how to use all this fancy gear and shit to kill people? Or the system that says if you break the rules you don’t have any rights unless you request a general court-martial, and if you do the penalties are guaranteed to be stiffer when you’re found guilty. Or was he referring to the system that says you can place your fate in the hands of the investigating officer who not only decides whether or not you’re guilty or innocent, but what your punishment is going to be. After all, man, NJP stands for nonjudicial punishment. What a crock of shit!”
Slocum stopped walking and Griffin noted the anger in his voice. “If they want my stripes they can have them, but they are going to have to work for it. I’m not about to just hand them over to a bunch of college-boy officers who played soldier at ROTC meetings while I humped my shit all over the world. For the better part of four years while they were drinking beer at frat parties and screwing somebody’s sister in the backseat of daddy’s car I been here learning how to be a Marine.”
Slocum paused and looked around the area, then spoke again, “Fuck ’em! I was in the grunts learning how to do my job from the bottom up, the way you’re supposed to learn it, while they pissed away daddy’s tuition money at college. You and me both spent years proving we could be NCOs. Nobody just handed us a squad or a fireteam the day we arrived at Lejeune and said, Okay, now that you’ve spent six weeks learning how to be a Marine officer you can be in charge of the platoon.’ After all, you do have a college degree in business administration, and everybody knows how valuable that is on the battlefield.
“Jesus, Dave, these fucking guys start off at the top, in charge of a whole platoon, and half of them don’t even know how to adjust their web gear. They’re so fucking arrogant you can barely talk to them, and when you do try and unfuck them, nine times out of ten they give you a ration of shit for being out of line.
“What a collection of prima donnas. I just don’t have any use for any of them anymore. I’ll be glad to get out and go back home to the mountains where I belong.” Slocum paused to catch his breath and looked around the empty corridor before going on. “And anyway, where the hell were they the night you came out and got us up on that hill? I don’t remember seein’ any of them around. For a bunch of guys who pride themselves on being leaders they sure as hell are hard to find when it comes time to do the petty, dirty shit.”
Slocum’s voice softened as he looked at his friend and said, “Look, man, nobody is more proud of being a Marine than I am. And I know we have some good officers. But the system is all fucked up when they punish us for doing shit that is tactically sound. And you know as well as I do that the whole point of this exercise is to find us guilty, and no matter what we say or do they’ll punish us however they see fit.”
“Dave, even if the Rock Man wants to help us he won’t be able to. It would ruin him and his career would be finished if he bucked the system. They’d just shit can him at the first opportunity. You know it’s true, we’ve both seen it done before.”
“I think he’s got some integrity, Bobby. Why else would he even have been here this morning?”
“You’re right, Dave. But think about what he said to us. All that ’trust the system’ garbage is for shit when you remember what he said about the officers being derelict if they didn’t convene a court-martial if they know we disobeyed orders.”
Griffin sighed and said, “It’s a foregone conclusion that we disobeyed orders. Everybody knows we did. Hell, all they have to do is talk to the lance corporal from the motor pool and they’ll know we didn’t have any vehicle problems.”
Slocum laughed at Griffin’s comment and shook his head. “Man, sometimes you’re pretty naive for a big city boy, Dave. Kind of gives you a certain charm though, I have to admit.”
Griffin looked at Slocum puzzled, then asked, “Why? What the fuck are you talkin’ about now?”
Slocum laughed again and explained, “Well, when we got the order to pull out from the hill and then ol’ Ahmud showed up, I knew we were in trouble. They told me over the radio that a squad was comin’ out with extra vehicles and that we were to withdraw that night and not leave any gear behind and not to destroy the building or rig it for booby traps or anything.”
Griffin shot a glance at Slocum and said, “Somebody in battalion ops must’ve known you were the one in charge out there from the sounds of those orders.”
Slocum grinned and answered, “Well, I do have a certain creative flair. I get it from my mother’s side of the family.”
“Yeah,” said Griffin sarcastically. “What are they, moonshiners?”
Slocum shrugged and continued, “Anyway, when I knew we were leavin’ for sure that night I started gettin’ the squad ready to go, just like a good boy. Nobody said anything about who was comin’ out to relieve us. Just that it would be one squad with some extra trucks. About mid afternoon, after Ahmud had come up the hill the first time but before you got there, one of my corporals tells me the natives are gettin’ restless. From the bottom of the hill you can see into the village and his fireteam has seen them sandbaggin’ some windows and draggin’ in some heavy machine guns. Anyway, things aren’t startin’ to look so good for that neat orderly withdrawal we Marines are so famous for.”
“So?” said Griffin.
“So I decided to take matters into my own hands. I figured it would be a fight with them whether we stayed or left, and if we stayed we had all the advantages. So I went over to one of the six-bys and modified a distributor cap. Damn thing just wouldn’t start when it came time to turn the engines over that afternoon.”
“Yeah, great, Bobby. I suppose you’re going to tell me that nobody saw you do that? Small as that compound is someone must’ve seen you fuckin’ around under the hood.”
“Nope. They were all in formation on the other side of the building. Just like I told ’em to be. After all, I had to have an all hands muster to give them the word about us pullin’ out. So nobody is the wiser, and the only guys not in formation are members of my squad who aren’t going to say anything to any court of inquiry.”
“So what was all that bullshit you gave me about the Motor-T guy knowin’ the vehicle wasn’t really down?”
“Did I say that?” asked Slocum with feigned innocence.
“God, you can be a real asshole,” said Griffin.
“Yeah, but anyway as far as anyone else is concerned that break-down was legitimate. So we don’t have to worry about some fucker from Motor-T saying we ordered him to rig a vehicle. We’re covered as long as we stick to the story that the vehicle broke down and we couldn’t leave it because we had orders to bring out all the equipment.”
“Well the Motor-T guy could still smell a rat. After all, he must have seen the distributor cap after you fucked with it. How hard can it be to figure out someone deliberately screwed it up?”
Slocum shrugged noncommittally. “Who cares? They can’t prove anything. That’s the whole point.” The pair continued to walk toward the company commander’s office on the far side of the building. Outside of the office they saw the H&S company clerks standing in a tight knot. “You know what really bothers me about this whole mess, Dave?”
“That they think we are going to rat on each other so they can play God and fuck with us. These guys actually think that if they give me some bullshit story about how it’s my duty to tell the truth then I’m going to rat on you and make it easy for them to hang us.”
“Fuck you,” said Griffin attempting to be lighthearted, “everybody knows it’s all your fault. And that’s just what I’m going to tell every Zero from now until the time they bust me back down to private.”
“Well, it is my fault mostly, I guess.” Slocum paused and Griffin stood beside him, the two of them well away from the clerks who stood near the office door. “Look, Dave. I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry I got you mixed up in all of this. I never thought it would come to this,” said Slocum.
“Don’t worry about it, Bobby. We both did what we had to do. Shit happens.”
“Well, maybe so, but I’m going to tell them it’s my fault. If they can burn one of us they’ll be happy. All you have to do is keep your mouth shut and everything will be fine.”
Griffin looked at his friend and shook his head. “Look, shit for brains, that won’t work. Not this time. This is personal. The first shirt is out to prove a point. If it’s not this then he’ll just dream up somethin’ else. And if we both beat him on this he’ll still dream up somethin’ else to fry us for, so don’t go tryin’ to be heroic or some shit. Just do like you said and try not to say anything. If it’s like you said and nobody but us knows about the vehicle then we’ve at least got a chance.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Dave,” said Slocum. “You know, I’m proud of being a Marine, too. I don’t think I ever meant to stay past my four years, but this is the proudest thing I’ve ever done in my life. And now this. I sort of wanted to go home a sergeant. My mom and dad sure would’ve been proud of me.”
Griffin looked at his friend and traced a circle on the dusty floor with his boot. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He paused, remembering Parris Island and the pride he had felt when he had worn the Marine Corps emblem on his uniform for the first time. “Well, we’ll still be Marines, Bobby. Nobody can take that away from us. Let’s just make sure we don’t let them take our self respect along with our stripes.”
The door to the company office swung open and the first sergeant stepped out as Griffin nodded to indicate the waiting room and said, “C’mon, it’s time to go and face the music.”
CHAPTER
21
Downs sat stiffly facing the seven officers who comprised the board of inquiry. The night before he had been ordered to report to the battalion headquarters with his fireteam. He had walked through the darkness with Smith and Ferris who now sat in the rear of the room waiting their turn to be questioned. None of the three had spoken during the long walk to the battalion headquarters, and Downs had risen early and eaten alone at the battalion mess.
Captain Simmons, the H&S company commander, reviewed his notes as Downs concentrated on maintaining his composure under the stare of the first sergeant and the sergeant major, both of whom stood to one side of the seated officers with their arms folded across their chests. Downs remembered his drill instructor’s advice from boot camp, “Right hand, right knee, left hand, left knee when facing any kind of board.” He automatically shifted his hands to their respective knees and made a mental note to keep them there.
Before entering the room he had been told by the company clerks that he would give testimony first as he was the senior member of the fireteam. Smith and Ferris would then be questioned by the board after he was finished. He was also told not to discuss his testimony with any other member of his squad, fireteam, or any of the dragon gunners who had been at the hill that night.
Downs knew that other members of the platoon who had been questioned regarding the fight that night were not allowed to return to their units. They were told to remain at the battalion command post until further notice. As his was the last fireteam to testify he was not sure what would happen after he, Smith, and Ferris had given their testimony. Downs was aware that neither Griffin nor Slocum had given their statements as of yet. The two sergeants sat impassively against the wall in the back of the room. Neither spoke to the other or to Downs as he had entered the room.
Captain Simmons finished writing and he lifted his head, speaking to Downs he said, “Good morning, Corporal Downs.”
Before he could continue Downs automatically responded, “Good morning, sir,” realizing as he spoke that the captain had not expected him to reply, but had planned on giving him some sort of preparatory comments. Simmons nodded and continued, “Corporal Downs, as you are now probably aware there have been some questions raised regarding the action at the American ambassador’s mansion on the night of 11 October 1983. The purpose of this board is not to find fault or to establish guilt, but to clarify the actions taken by those concerned. Specifically, I am speaking about the decisions and actions of your squad leader, Sergeant David Griffin, and the squad leader of the dragon squad, Sergeant Robert Slocum. It is the belief of this board that these two Marines were responsible for the defense of the post and the safety of the Marines there.” Simmons paused and looked at the other members of the board who sat studying Downs. Downs stared at the H&S company commander impassively, then realized he was expected to respond.
“I wasn’t aware of the purpose of the board, sir. I was ordered to report here this morning. To you, sir. I was not given an explanation. And neither was my fireteam.” Downs nodded toward the rear of the room where Smith and Ferris sat.
The captain let out an impatient sigh, then continued, “Be that as it may, Corporal Downs, the board is convened to determine the facts of the matter. Your duty is to answer the questions put to you in a clear, concise, and truthful manner. Anything less would be a serious infringement of the Uniform Code of Military of Justice. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” said Downs, careful not to betray any emotion in his voice.
“Good,” said the captain, “then maybe we can continue. I believe you already know the other members of the board and their assignments in the battalion.” As the captain introduced the other officers Downs said “Sir” and nodded to each of the young men. None appeared sympathetic to Griffin or Slocum. Downs surmised that they were making the same effort he was, to remove any trace of emotion or opinion from their expressions or manner. As the junior officer of the board was introduced he raised his pencil, indicating that he had a question for Downs before Captain Simmons continued.
“Do you have a question, Lieutenant Walters?” asked the captain.
“Yes, sir. I do,” answered the officer. The captain waved a hand at Downs, indicating the lieutenant should ask his question. “Corporal Downs, I notice only three Marines from your fireteam are present. Is there a reason why the fourth man is not present?”
Downs looked at the captain who averted his eyes then glared down the table at the lieutenant. Before the Captain could speak Downs answered the question, “Yes, sir. There is a reason the fourth member of my fireteam is not present.” Downs stared at the officer, his face a mask of indifference.
“Well, Corporal Downs,” said the lieutenant impatiently. “Maybe you could enlighten the board.” The sergeant major and the first sergeant shifted uncomfortably against the wall. The first sergeant went so far as to clear his throat and scowl at the lieutenant.
“Lance Corporal MacCallum was killed in action four days ago, sir. It was during a mortar attack on the Alpha company lines. We’ve not been given a replacement as of yet, sir,” said Downs.
For a moment the silence hung in the air before one of the other officers shuffled some of his papers and the lieutenant said, “I see.” After an awkward moment the lieutenant added, “That will be all, Corporal.”
Realizing that the lieutenant had no authority to dismiss him Downs looked at the captain. The captain motioned for him to remain seated. To his rear Downs heard either Smith or Ferris clear his throat loudly and scrape h
is chair along the dusty concrete floor.
Downs stole a glance at the lieutenant. He was staring intently at some paperwork, not lifting his head from the table. Downs felt elated. In some small measure he knew he had won the opening round. He fought to control his emotions and concentrate on not saying anything that might incriminate Slocum or Griffin. The lieutenant will come after me now, thought Downs. He has to. He was trying to impress his superiors by catching me not reporting with my full fireteam and instead he stepped on his dick in front of God and everybody. Now he has to make up for lost ground or really look like an ass. Downs made a mental note to think carefully before answering any question put to him by the board, particularly the lieutenant.
Captain Simmons cleared his throat and said, “I believe we’re ready to proceed now, Corporal Downs. I want to caution you again regarding answers that are anything less than the full and complete truth.” Downs nodded in answer to the captain’s questioning look. “Very well. Why don’t you begin by telling us what your duties were that afternoon, Corporal Downs?”
“My duties, sir?” asked Downs. “What specifically does the captain want to know?” Downs heard the first sergeant shift as the captain looked directly at him.
“It’s a plain question, Corporal. You do remember what your duties are, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Downs. “My duties as a Marine require that I be aware of, and comply with the standing general orders of the Marine Corps. Would the captain like for me to recite my general orders, sir?”
Simmons exchanged an exasperated look with one of the other officers and Downs noted Captain Roberts, the Bravo company commander, attempting to stifle a chuckle. In an irritated voice the captain glared at Downs and said, “Corporal Downs, what were your specific orders on the night in question? I am not interested in a recital of the general orders by you or anybody else. I want to know what your orders were that night, in regard to your position on that hill and as a NCO in first squad. Have I made myself clear, Corporal?”