"Another of your innocent lambs, I see, Commander," Captain Kamnik said.
"Lovely fellow, obviously," Grotski said.
"So what about him?"
Grotski handed a single sheet of paper to Kamnik.
OP-29-BC3
FROM: THE COMMANDER IN CHIEF, PACIFIC FLEET
TO: GENERAL OFFICER COMMANDING, MARINE BARRACKS, PEARL HARBOR
REFERENCE: RECORD OF TRIAL, MCCOY, PFC THOMAS MICHAEL, USMC
1. THE REVIEW REQUIRED BY LAW OF THE TRIAL, CONVICTION, AND SENTENCING OF PFC MCCOY HAS BEEN COMPLETED BY THE UNDERSIGNED.
2. THE REVIEW REVEALED THAT THE COMPOSITION OF THE GENERAL COURT-MARTIAL WAS NOT IN KEEPING WITH APPLICABLE REGULATIONS AND LAW. (SEE ATTACHMENT 1 HERETO.)
3. IT IS THEREFORE ORDERED THAT THE FINDINGS AND SENTENCE IN THE AFOREMENTIONED CASE BE, AND THEY HEREBY ARE, SET ASIDE.
"You mean we're going to have to try this character again?" Captain Kamnik asked. "What about the 'composition' of the court-martial?"
"The law requires that 'all parties to the trial,'" Grotski said, "be present for all sessions of the court. They weren't. The trial lasted three days. Three times, one officer or another was called away. The court reporter, apparently a very thorough individual, put it in the record every time somebody left, and when they came back."
"I can't imagine why they would be called away," Kamnik said, sarcastically. "It's not as if there's a war on, or anything important like that."
"CINCPAC really doesn't review these cases himself," Grotski said. "He gives them to a lawyer on the judge advocate's staff to review, and he generally goes by his recommendations. Whoever reviewed this saw that members of the board kept wandering in and out."
"You're not telling me we have to go through the whole goddamned trial again?" Kamnik said.
"No," Grotski said. "You remember I said the general is pissed at me?"
"What about?"
"Well, by the time the case was reviewed, McCoy was already on his way to Portsmouth… here, in other words. So this was sent here for action. And the general called me in and said that somebody had fucked up in Hawaii, and that we were going to have to try Brother McCoy all over again, and would I please see that it was done very quickly and efficiently, and that I was to personally make sure that no member of the board left the room for any purpose while the trial was on.
"So I said, 'Aye, aye, sir,' and read the file. Then I went back to see the general and told him that in my professional judgment, we could not retry Brother McCoy. For two reasons: The first was double jeopardy. He'd already been tried. The government had its shot at him. They should not have gone on with the trial with any member of the court missing, but they did. That was not McCoy's fault. He was there. And I told the general that it was not the responsibility of his defense counsel to object; that he was almost obliged to take advantage of mistakes the prosecution made. And then I told him that even if they sort of swept that under the rug and tried him again here, McCoy was entitled to face his accusers. The Navy would have to bring here from Pearl (or from wherever they are now) the officer he punched out, and the shore patrolman, plus all of McCoy's buddies who had previously testified that McCoy was just sitting there innocently in the whorehouse when the shore patrol lieutenant came in and viciously attacked him for no reason that they could see."
"You mean this sonofabitch is going to get away with punching out an officer? A shore patrol officer?" Captain Kamnik asked incredulously.
"Think of it this way, Casimir," Commander Grotski said dryly, " 'it is better that one thousand guilty then go free than one innocent man be convicted.'"
"But the sonofabitch is guilty as hell! Innocent, my ass!"
"He was entitled to a fair trial, and he didn't get one," Grotski said. "I must say the general took this better than you are."
"I thought you said he was pissed," Kamnik said.
"At me. As the bearer of bad news. He doesn't seem to be annoyed with Brother McCoy nearly as much. As a matter of fact, he even had a thought about where PFC McCoy can make a contribution to the Marine Corps and the war effort in the future."
"What does that mean?"
"I'm here to 'counsel' McCoy," Grotski said. "You're welcome to watch, but only if you can keep your mouth shut."
"I wouldn't miss this for the world," Kamnik said. "You want him brought here?"
"That would be very nice, Captain Kamnik," Grotski said. "I appreciate your spirit of cooperation."
"Scott!" Captain Kamnik called. The natty corporal stuck his head in the door. "Do you know where to find the sergeant of the guard?"
"He's out here, sir. He's waiting to see you."
"Ask him to come in, please."
The sergeant of the guard was the meanest-looking sonofabitch Commander Grotski had seen in some time, a bald, stocky staff sergeant of thirty or so, with an acne-pocked face. Grotski searched for the word, and came up with "porcine." The sergeant of the guard was porcine, piglike, a mean boar pig.
The sergeant of the guard came to attention before Kamnik's desk.
"What's on your mind, Sergeant?" Kamnik asked.
"I didn't know that the captain was busy, sir."
"Don't mind me, Sergeant," Grotski said amiably.
The sergeant still hesitated.
"Go on, Sergeant," Captain Kamnik said.
"The captain said he wanted to hear," the sergeant of the guard reluctantly began, "of an 'incident.'"
"Yes, I did."
"We had a little trouble with one of the transits, sir," the sergeant of the guard said.
"Oh?"
"He gave one of the guards some lip, sir," the sergeant of the guard said. "And then he assaulted two guards. The point of it is, sir, before we could restrain him, he busted PFC Tober's nose."
"The situation is now under control?"
"Oh, yes, sir," the sergeant of the guard said. "But I thought you'd want to hear right away about PFC Tober. I sent him over to the dispensary."
"And the transient?"
"We have him restrained, sir. I was going to ask the captain's permission to keep him in the box until we can ship him out of here."
"The 'box,' Sergeant?" Commander Grotski asked, innocently.
"That's what we call our 'solitary detention facility,'" Captain Kamnik explained.
"Oh, I see," Grotski said. "And just out of idle curiosity, what's the name of the prisoner who broke the guard's nose?"
The sergeant of the guard looked at Captain Kamnik for permission to reply. Kamnik nodded.
"McCoy, sir," the sergeant of the guard said. "He's a mean sonofabitch, a general prisoner on his way to Portsmouth. He's gonna do five-to-ten. Assault on an officer and some other stuff."
"Curiosity overwhelms me," Commander Grotski said. "I would like to see this villain."
The sergeant of the guard looked distantly uncomfortable. He looked to Captain Kamnik for help and got none.
"Do you suppose you could bring him here, Sergeant?" Commander Grotski asked.
"Commander," the sergeant of the guard said, "you don't really want to see to this character, do you?"
"Oh, but I do. Go get him, Sergeant."
The sergeant of the guard again looked in vain for Captain Kamnik's help.
When he had gone, Commander Grotski asked, "Are you a betting man, Casimir?"
"Sometimes," Kamnik said.
"How about three will get you five that this McCoy will fall down the stairs on his way here?"
"It happens, Commander," Kamnik said. "I do my best to stop it, but sometimes it happens."
Five minutes later General Prisoner Thomas Michael McCoy was led into the brig commander's office. He was dressed in dungarees. A ten-inch-high letter "P" had been stenciled to the thighs of his trousers and onto the rear of his jacket. He was in handcuffs, and the handcuffs were chained to a thick leather belt around his waist. His ankles were encircled with heavy iron rings, and the rings were chained together, restricting his movement to a shuffle.