“Yes, sir.” Docker’s thoughts turned back to those hours of coldness and fear, the German troops materializing in white forests, the section’s retreat through the mountains, the bursts of shrapnel spraying the sides of their trucks.
“Baird hooked on to our second truck,” he said. “Solvis told me later he looked close to shock. Solvis offered him a cigarette and a drink but Baird didn’t want anything.”
“Excuse me, major,” Captain Walton said.
“Yes?”
“Lieutenant, what kind of drink are you referring to?”
“Whiskey, sir.”
“Would that be Section Eight’s notorious black whiskey, lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir. Solvis had a canteen of it.”
“Did everybody in the section have a supply of it?”
“Some of them didn’t care for it, sir.”
Walton nodded and glanced at the major. “I have no further questions at this time, sir.”
“Very well,” Karsh said, seeming. Docker wondered, to be hiding his impatience with Walton? “Go on, lieutenant.”
“Later that day, I called a halt to check our bearings and maps. That was the first time I talked to Baird. He’d taken his helmet off, and I told him to put it back on and keep it on. I asked him what happened to his rifle and dog tags. He told me he’d lost them. Said the rifle had been knocked from his hands by an artillery blast and that he’d lost his dog tags when the chain caught and snapped on a tree branch.”
“Did he explain why he had left his position?”
“Yes, sir. Baird said he heard someone shouting to fall back.”
Karsh made a quick note, obviously waiting for Docker to continue, but when Docker remained silent Karsh removed his glasses and said, “Lieutenant, I’ve asked you to tell us about this sequence of events in your own words. I’d like to know what you said to him, what his responses were, something about his emotional state and so forth. I’d appreciate those details, if you don’t mind.”
“Yes, sir. Baird told me that his company was on the left flank of the Hundred and sixth. He’d been on guard a couple of hundred yards from his company headquarters. It was dark when the Germans attacked. Baird said it was like a nightmare. His exact words were that ‘it was like being caught in a tornado.’ ”
“Let’s go back a bit. Did he tell you who gave him orders to withdraw?”
“He wasn’t sure about that. His company commander was a Captain Dilworth, I believe that’s right. His lieutenant was named Russo. He also mentioned his sergeant, whose name, I think, was Greene. But Baird said there was so much wind and artillery fire he couldn’t tell whether it was the captain or Lieutenant Russo or the sergeant yelling at them to get out of there.”
“And what did Jackson Baird tell you he did after acting on those orders?”
“He told me that he had lost contact with the other men in his company. He headed west then and joined our section the next day.”
“You had no reason to question any of the details of his story?” Karsh looked up at Docker. “The missing dog tags and rifle, the unidentified voice ordering retreat, all of this struck you as reasonable at the time?”
“Yes, sir, it did.”
“I see.” Karsh made a check mark on his legal pad. “And so, after that first conversation with Jackson Baird, you accepted him as a member of your section, assigned him duties and so forth?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In fact, you provided him with a rifle, didn’t you, lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Wouldn’t you describe that as an act of faith in Jackson Baird’s bona fides?”
“Not exactly.”
The major looked mildly exasperated. “Then tell me, lieutenant, how would you describe this display of trust and confidence in a youngster who was a total stranger to you?”
“If I trusted anything, sir, I guess it was my own judgment.”
“Very well, let’s move on to another area. I’d like to discuss” — the major glanced at his notes — “the action in which Private Samuel Gelnick was killed. I’ll recap those events, lieutenant, and if I’m in error, please correct me. Private Gelnick was running toward the gun revetment with Private Solvis when the ME-262 attacked your position. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Private Solvis made it safely to the revetment and Private Gelnick did not. Correct?”
“Yes, sir. Gelnick hit the ground and froze. He was killed by shrapnel. Solvis took cover against the outer wall of the revetment.”
“Immediately after that attack did Private Solvis take cover inside the revetment?”
Since Karsh had received depositions from every member of the section, Docker realized he must already know the answers to these questions, but he said, “No, sir. Solvis did nothing to protect himself. He seemed dazed by concussion, and by what happened to Gelnick.”
“Lieutenant, would you characterize Solvis’ situation at that time as extremely dangerous?”
“Yes, sir, I would.”
“Exposed and vulnerable to an attacking enemy aircraft?”
Docker knew what the major wanted, and he had every intention of giving it to him, but he found the theatrical emphasis depressing because it cheapened his memories of that action on the hill, the sleeting winds, the sound of the guns, and waiting for the plane to come back, with nobody able to tell Solvis why it had happened to Gelnick... “Yes, he was very vulnerable, sir.”
“And then?”
“Baird went and got him, sir, grabbed him by the arm and hauled him inside the revetment.”
“Exposing himself to considerable danger in the process?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And in the subsequent action — I’m referring to the shooting down of the aircraft — Baird also conducted himself in a soldierly fashion?”
“Yes, he certainly did, sir.”
Major Karsh made notes for a moment or so, and then, after carefully reading what he’d written, glanced at the other officers. “Gentlemen?”
Captain Walton said, “I’d like to clarify one point, lieutenant. When Baird went to Solvis’ aid, was he acting under your orders?”
“No, sir, he wasn’t.”
“Was he acting under anyone’s orders?”
“No, sir. He saw what had to be done and did it without regard to the danger and his own personal safety.”
Walton seemed pleased. He glanced at Karsh, eyes bright behind the old-fashioned glasses. “That does it as far as I’m concerned.”
Major Karsh nodded and checked the heavy silver watch strapped to his muscular wrist. “I want to make a point for the record before we recess for lunch. I consider it a privilege to include this information in the transcript... The plane shot down by Lieutenant Docker’s gun section on December twentieth was no ordinary aircraft. It was an ME-262, a jet-propulsion plane with defensive and offensive capabilities superior to any aircraft flown in this war. Army engineers recovered that prototype aircraft from the Mont Reynard mountain range. The identification of its potential gave the Allied Air Force valuable lead time to prepare a strategy against the more than two thousand ME-262S which flew missions during the closing stages of the Battle of the Bulge.” The major’s eyes had become intent, serious. “The men of Section Eight, all the men of that section, are to be commended for their courage and resourcefulness during that action.”
“Hear, hear!” Captain Walton said.
Karsh turned his smile toward the sergeant. “When you’ve typed up copies of this transcript, remind me that I want this particular section initialed by all three officers of the Board.”
The MP corporal pulled open the double doors of the ballroom and came to attention as Karsh, briefcase under his arm, strode toward him, his leather heels echoing on the parquet floors.