Accompanying letter from Arthur Grindal. Says that despite son's desire to cover up for Sergt Pascoe, he feels it his duty to speak out if only to prevent others from being put at risk by future association with the Sergt who used to be in his, Grindal's, employ before war. Despite many favours shown, he proved to be an unreliable workman, preferring to associate with union and socialist freethinkers rather than advancing his family and his firm's interests by putting in an honest day's work for a good day's pay. Even on his recent leave he had been observed at a socialist rally in Leeds which advocated following the Russian example of insurrection against the legal authorities and replacing the king and parliament by a council of workers, as well as withdrawing all troops from the Front and leaving the enemies of our country to deal with France as they wished. Nevertheless Grindal hoped that the army might temper justice with mercy etc. (If there'd been any doubt about the verdict, which there probably wasn't, this letter was the clincher. It was never read out in court, not being strictly speaking relevant to the facts of the case. Lt Grindal's letter was read out.)
(5) Sergt Pascoe made a statement saying that after the shell blast had left Lt Grindal unfit to give orders, command of platoon had fallen on him and he'd judged it best to get Lt back to aid post, suspecting that he might have internal injuries as well as evident shock. Admitted striking Lt to restrain him from blundering forward to certain death from pillbox machine guns. After depositing Lt it was his intention to go forward again after a short rest to make contact with Battalion HQ and get further orders. Pres. asked why he'd told remnants of platoon that Lt had communicated order to withdraw. Replied, if he'd given it himself men might have been put in bad light when explaining actions later, but by implying it was Batt. HQ order, he'd put them in clear. Pres. made note saying it was clear Sergt knew he was doing wrong. Asked him why after Lt incapacitated by shell blast he didn't attempt to contact battalion officers on either flank. Sergt said he'd no idea who was still alive and after what he'd seen in his section it wasn't likely to be many. Pres: Was that a criticism of the tactics involved in the assault? Sergt: It was a criticism of the whole fucking campaign. Reproved for swearing. Pres: You are aware that the assault on Polygon Wood was a success and at the end of the attack the wood was firmly in the hands of the comrades you turned your back on? Sergt replied, But it wasn't a wood. He wished to hell they'd all stop calling things names that no longer fitted. A wood was a place with trees and undergrowth, with green shade and birds singing and mossy tracks and maybe rabbits and deer playing around. These so-called woods he'd spent the last few weeks watching good men die over were nowt but blasted stumps sticking up out of churned up ground where your only solid footing was like to be a dead man's bones, and if you nailed a crosspiece on every stump to turn them into grave markers, there'd still not be enough for all the men who'd died to take or defend them. And there was none of them worth it, not one of these so-called sodding woods, whatever picture it might give folk back home of cavalry trotting under oak and beech. Their names were a deceit. The whole campaign in the Salient was a deceit. Every fighting man in the army, including those in this court, knew that the taking of Polygon Wood, and of the other pathetic two or three miles of muddy hell that had been covered these last few weeks, wouldn't bring the end of the war a day nearer. If after this the leaders on both sides couldn't see how futile the whole business was, then what was to stop them fighting on till they ran out of men to fight with?
(Pres. made what look like verbatim notes of all this. Must have scribbled furiously. Perhaps he felt that prisoner's personal statement merited close consideration. Only comment at end was, 'SANITY?' Not an issue, of course. Catch-22 had always applied. If Arthur Grindal's letter clinched verdict, this outburst probably put lid on any hope of a strong recommendation to mercy.)
This was end of defence. No witnesses called, everyone possible having been called by prosecution.
(6) Verdict guilty, sentence death, no recommendation to mercy.
(7) CO says Sergt had shown many good qualities as soldier but recently stories had been circulating that he was centre of disaffection based on idea that working men with pacifist inclinations on both sides should unite in refusing to fight any more. Lt Grindal had given assurances from personal knowledge of Sergt that he could keep him straight. CO's sense that Lt had suffered personal betrayal meant he could not demur from court's verdict.
(8) After such comments at battalion level, verdict was rubber-stamped approved all way up the line of command.
(9) B 122 exemplary. Shows what a lot of fucking notice they took of that!
(10) Confirmed. Signed Douglas Haig CiC.
(That's it. Apart from Sergt's spirited outburst, it's pretty well par for the course. Evidence as it stands made it almost impossible for FGCM not to bring in guilty verdict. But in terms of basic legal and human rights — and I mean those which were accepted and operative in civvy courts in 1917 — the whole shebang is a mess which you wouldn't shoot a dingo on. Absence of ref. to Prisoner's Friend doesn't necessarily mean the poor bastard didn't do his best, but only that Pres. of Court, possibly out of kindness to a fellow officer because he knew that senior eyes which got bloodshot at any hint of a troublemaker would be scanning these records, didn't feel the need to record his efforts. Not much here for your comfort but then you didn't expect any, did you? One last thing. After you've read, marked and learned this, would you quite literally inwardly digest it, or destroy it by some other means. See you!)
Pascoe finished reading then gathered the papers up and took them through to the lounge where Ellie was sitting in front of the fire, nursing a glass of Scotch.
'Hi. All done?'
He knelt beside her and laid the fax sheets on the flames.
'I wish I could feel that was symbolic,' said Ellie. 'Shall I pour you a Scotch?'
'Better not,' said Pascoe.
'That doesn't mean what I think it means, I hope.'
'I need to see Studholme and I doubt if I'll have time tomorrow.'
'They've invented this thing called the telephone.'
'I need to see him,' repeated Pascoe.
She didn't argue but rose and went out into the hall. He heard her using the telephone. When she returned he looked at her enquiringly.
'Just fixing a baby-sitter. Hit lucky with Myrtle down the road. She'll be here in ten minutes. Any objection?'
'Yes,' he said smiling. 'If you hadn't been so quick getting stuck into that whisky, you could have done the driving too.'
xv
'You won't be late?' said Edwin Digweed.
'Definitely not.'
'Good, because Dora's promised us something really special.'
'I'm practically on my way,' said Wield.
He put down the phone and returned his attention to the TV screen. Behind him he heard the door of the CID audio-visual room open.
'Working late?' said Dalziel. 'Or do you just get lousy reception out in the sticks?'
Wield shifted sideways to give a clear view of the screen. On it a frozen frame over Des Patten's shoulder of Cap Marvell, lightly crouched, holding the heavy wire cutters at her side like a broad sword in a double-handed grip. Her expression was calm, with the calmness of concentration rather than repose, and her unblinking gaze was focused on the man before her.