by Dennis Foley
Finished with their deliberations, the officers shuffled back into the court room. The grinding sounds of their combat boots and the scuffing of their chairs on the raised platform, built just for the trial, broke the silence. Two colonels, three lieutenant colonels and one major flanked Brigadier General Ben Stratton. They silently took their seats.
Stratton slipped on his reading glasses, opened a piece of paper folded only once at the midline and read to all assembled in the room, “As President of this court-martial it is my duty to inform you the members of the court, two-thirds of which were present at the time a secret written ballot was cast, have reached their verdict.”
Scotty looked over at Pascoe, standing behind the Trial Counsel’s table with his military attorney. His color was ashen and his eyes were fixed on a point on the wall above and behind the members of the court.
The general looked up at Pascoe and then continued reading: “As to the charge of violation of Article 107 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, Making False Official Statements, the court finds you guilty.
“As to the charge of violation of Article 99, Misbehavior Before the Enemy, the court finds you guilty.
“For these violations you are sentenced to: Suspension of all pay and allowances, confinement at the United States Disciplinary Barracks at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas for a period of no less than fifteen years, reduction to the rank of Private E-1 and a dishonorable discharge.”
The general looked up from his notes and scanned the completely silent court room then turned back to Pascoe whose expression gave away the shock of his sentencing. The general took off his reading glasses and plopped them on the table. “Major Pascoe, I’ve been a soldier for thirty-one years. This is certainly not the first time I’ve been president of a court-martial board. But I have to say I have not seen such an egregious violation of the trust soldiers must have in their officers as you have committed. Every man who carries a rifle, faces an enemy or risks his life to execute the orders of officers appointed over him deserves the full measure of unwavering protection and unqualified loyalty his officers can give. Every soldier needs to know he will never be left behind on the battlefield as long as there is even the slightest chance he might be rescued or his remains might be recovered. You, Major, have broken that trust and for that crime you deserve the disdain and the scorn of your peers and all those soldiers who have ever served with you.
“I, for one, will lose no sleep over your confinement and dishonorable discharge. You do not deserve to be a field grade commissioned officer. You do not deserve the privilege of command of combat soldiers. And you certainly do not deserve the respect your rank should entitle you to.
“Soldiers will forgive just about any failing in an officer but cowardice. You have shamed yourself, the officer corps and your alma mater—the United States Military Academy.”
The general picked up his glasses and closed the bound maroon Uniform Code of Military Justice manual before him. “This concludes all matters before this court and we are adjourned.”
The members of the court stood and followed the general out of the room while everyone else waited for them to leave. Scotty felt Eileen give his arm a supportive squeeze as they both watched the two military police take Pascoe into custody, place him in handcuffs and lead him down the center aisle of the courtroom to the doorway leading to the street.
As Pascoe passed the row where Scotty and Eileen stood he stared at the floor in front of him and avoided making eye contact with Scotty.
Spring 1968
Still dark, Scotty tiptoed into his infant daughter’s bedroom and looked at her sleeping soundly in her crib. Though she was only eight months old, Scotty still stood in amazement every morning finding himself so blessed to be where he was and to have her and Eileen in his life.
Though it had been thirty-six months since he and Captain Nguyen had made it through the marshland along the Cambodian border, and he had already served one more year in Vietnam with an American Airborne Brigade, the time they were lost was still on his mind. How close they came to death, how great the possibility seemed that he would never stand over the crib of a baby daughter safe in Army quarters at Fort Benning, Georgia never left him.
He walked into the kitchen for a last sip of coffee before heading out to work. There he found Eileen, her hair pulled back into a pony tail wearing his pajama top which hit her about mid-thigh. “Morning, sunshine.”
She stretched her arms over her head and then reached out for him. “C’mere. Let me give you a hug before you leave.”
“Okay, as long as it’s only a hug. You know what happens when it is too much of a hug.”
They both laughed.
He embraced her and she put her head on his chest. “How’s our baby girl doing? She awake yet?”
“No. And I wanted to hold her before I left for work.”
“Hold me and I’ll pass it on later.”
“Deal.” He kissed the top of Eileen’s head and smelled the sweetness of her hair.
Eileen leaned back held him at arm’s length and looked up at him. “You better get going. You’re gonna’ be late?”
“Got a whole new gaggle of trainees arriving today. Don’t wait up for me. You know how first days are.”
She gave Scotty a kiss and released him. “Got to go check that baby girl.”
Scotty put on his Drill Sergeant’s hat and gave Eileen an affectionate pat on the behind as she walked away. “You two have a great day.”
Dawn was breaking. Sergeant First Class Scotty Hayes stood on the Orderly Room porch of Company E, 1st Battalion of the 3rd Training Regiment at Fort Benning. He sipped lukewarm mess hall coffee from the mug he had brought with him from breakfast.
He watched as two hundred and thirty brand new Army recruits were hustled off the olive drab buses parked in the company street and herded into their first sloppy military formations by junior NCOs with the group.
Once they were somewhat organized and quieted down, Scotty put his cup down on the railing and automatically checked his to see his pockets were buttoned and his campaign hat was set squarely on his head, low over his eyes.
That done, he walked down the three steps to the cinder topped roadway to a point in front of the assembled recruits.
As the company’s senior Drill Sergeant he took his position in front of them, the remaining noises, shuffling and mumbling within the ranks ended—each man looking at the sergeant obviously in charge of their futures.
Scotty raised his voice to reach every man in the formation and heard Sergeant Russell’s words slipping from his lips. “Welcome to E Company and your first day of Basic Training. My name is Hayes. We’re going to spend the next two months together. And you’re not going to like me. But I won’t lose any sleep over that…”
Epilogue
SCOTTY AND EILEEN HAYES—had three children, two boys and a girl named Kitty. Sergeant Major Scott Hayes retired from the Army in 1993, after he returned from the first Gulf War. He and Eileen settled down in their hometown of Belton, Florida.
Kitty Hayes—died quietly in her sleep in 1975 after having become a grandmother three times over.
Eldon Pascoe—was released from the United States Disciplinary Barracks at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas in 1981 and took a job teaching history in a private boy’s school in Oklahoma. He was fired two years later without explanation.
Sergeant Asa Russell—was the second American to escape from an enemy POW camp in Laos. He stayed in the Army and retired as the Command Sergeant Major of the 82nd Airborne Division in Fort Bragg, North Carolina.
Sergeant Caruthers—lost his right leg from wounds he suffered in the attack on the hamlet of Doi Bao Voi and went home to start a successful fishing camp in Lake of the Ozarks, Missouri.
Captain Nguyen—was promoted to major and became the Operations Officer of the 6th Infantry Division. In 1974, with the fall of Saigon to Communists forces, he became a boat person and ended up owning a liquor store in Costa Mesa
, California’s small Vietnamese community.
Karen Pascoe—divorced Eldon Pascoe three months after his court-martial conviction and later remarried an old high school sweetheart. She became a successful real estate agent in Peekskill, New York.
Malcolm Striever—was drafted in 1968 and sent to Vietnam as a helicopter door gunner in the 1st Cavalry Division. While serving there he was killed in a helicopter crash.
About the Author
Dennis Foley retired from the army as a lieutenant colonel after several tours in Southeast Asia. He served as a Long Range Patrol platoon leader, an Airborne Infantry company commander, a Ranger company commander, and a Special Forces “A” Detachment commander. He holds two Silver Stars, four Bronze Stars, and two Purple Hearts. In addition to his novels, he has written and produced for television and film. He lives in Whitefish, Montana.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2010 by Dennis Foley
Cover design by Mauricio Diaz
978-1-4804-7227-3
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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