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The admirals, conscious of a growing unrest in the media and the public about the precise circumstances of the submarine’s demise, were considering the possibility of a Special Court-Martial charging both the captain and the executive officer with gross negligence.

In the past four days there had been a succession of stories leaked about the loss of Seawolf, and the media was beginning to get warm. The admirals felt that a court-martial would clear the air and put everyone off the scent of what had really happened in the South China Sea, especially since the President’s son was involved. Nothing, surely, could be worse than that.

And so the admirals, including Mulligan and Cameron, had agreed upon this course of action. The court-martial would almost certainly find both men not guilty, but to have staged it, and put two of their own through the humiliation, would hopefully absolve the Navy from further blame.

The trouble now was that the President was not having it. He stood before Admiral Morgan and said categorically, “No one is going to court-martial my son. Not while I sit in this chair as Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces.”

“But, sir, I don’t see that we have any choice. We have to deflect the media from the real story, which would have this administration thrown out. You would be in disgrace, sir. Going to war with China, to save Linus. Even you, sir, could not get away with that.”

“Okay. I accept that. But look here, Arnie, I’ve read this report, and I don’t think anything of this Crocker guy. Jesus, I’m a lawyer, and there’s not one shred of corroboration to back his claim that Linus made a mistake. Nothing, ’cept stuff that happened after the fact. I mean, give me a break. There was three seconds on the periscope. And you guys want to hang my own son on that? Nossir. That’s not going to happen.”

“Mr. President, the Navy is going to court-martial either Linus, or both him and Judd, for the loss of the ship. After all, he was driving the damned thing.”

“So he may have been. But this Crocker guy should have been there. He’s the captain. And his evidence is flawed against my boy. Linus has always been truthful, ever since he was little…and this Crocker character is trying to turn him into a liar. And that’s what I’m not having.

“Admiral Morgan, I want that captain court-martialed. But I’m not having Linus there with him. He’s the CO. Let him take the blame. It’s just his word against the truthful word of my boy. I’ll even have Linus stand witness for him. But I’m not having that boy facing a Navy court-martial, which would ultimately bring a much greater disgrace upon him than it would for a normal person.”

“Sir, I will make your wishes known to the respective admirals, and we’ll just have to see how the cards fall. But I do know everyone is very concerned about how much press this thing is beginning to attract.”

“All right. But don’t come back with a lot of crap. I just want to be told that Linus is not going to be facing a U.S. Navy court-martial. Not after all that boy’s gone through.”

0900. Wednesday, September 27.
The Oval Office.

Morgan paused before the door of the Oval Office, then entered.

“Sir, you’re not going to like this,” he said to the President. “The Navy is to convene a Special Court-Martial charging both Captain Crocker and Lt. Commander Linus Clark with gross negligence in the loss of the submarine Seawolf. Sir, they feel they have no choice in the current climate, and I agree with them.”

“GODDAMNIT, ARNIE! Can I overrule, strike Linus off the charge?”

“Yessir. As C-in-C you may do as you wish. But I am told you will then receive the instant resignations of your chief of naval operations, Admiral Joe Mulligan, and that of the commander of the Pacific Fleet, Admiral Archie Cameron.”

“THEN TELL ’EM TO GET THE HELL OUT AND I’LL APPOINT A COUPLE OF GUYS WHO WILL HELP ME OUT HERE…MAYBE APPRECIATE SOME OF THE STUFF I’VE DONE FOR THE NAVY.”

“Is that your last word, sir?”

“It sure as hell is. I need a new CNO and a new CINCPAC, right? Please start things moving, and announce nothing about the court-martial.”

“Very well, sir. But we have to hurry. They intend the court-martial to sit on Friday morning, while the evidence is fresh.”

“They can sit whenever the hell they like. But the only man they’ll be trying is Captain Judd Crocker. I want him charged with being absent from his place of duty in the face of the enemy. China, right. That’s an enemy.”

Arnold Morgan left without another word. And within 30 minutes the two resignations were in. It took another five hours to make new appointments, and both men were given to understand that if the Navy wanted its massive budget for the next two years to be approved by the President, they would acquiesce to his wishes in the court-martial of Judd Crocker.

Admiral Dick Greening, flying in from Pearl to replace Archie Cameron, had no feelings about the trial, and felt that the probable letter of censure to a captain who had lost his submarine could not possibly be worth such a total disruption.

The appointment of a new CNO was more difficult, but in the end they appointed Admiral Alan Dickson, Commander-in-Chief of the Atlantic Fleet. His views, too, were ambivalent on the subject of Judd Crocker’s court-martial. He was not, however, appraised of the President’s wish that the captain should be found guilty, and the entire matter closed at that point.

Admiral Morgan requested a delay until Monday for the trial of Judd Crocker, which was granted. And he spent much of the weekend trying to reason with the President. But there was no reasoning. He did not wish Linus Clarke even to attend the hearing, and he sent him home to the ranch in Oklahoma.

Which meant that on Monday morning, in the same room where the Board of Inquiry had sat, Captain Judd Crocker faced the court-martial alone. Only his father was there, waiting outside for the verdict. And for three hours, the former commanding officer pleaded his case, explaining the circumstances, trying to explain his XO’s mistake.

But there was no pleading here. The Navy wanted a conviction, to get everyone off the hook. The President wanted a conviction, to get his son off the hook. This was a trial that was lost before it was held.

At 1625 on the afternoon of Monday, October 2, Captain Judd Crocker was found guilty of gross negligence, effectively “on grounds that he had been absent from his place of duty in the face of the enemy.” He was relieved of command and issued a letter of the severest censure, with a recommendation that he leave the service forth-with.

1400. Tuesday. October 3.
Office of the National Security Adviser.

Admiral Morgan had just proposed to Kathy O’Brien. “Thought I’d get that absolute formality out of the way before I go along and tell the Chief I’ve resigned,” he said.

“Well, yes. I will marry you. But this is all a little sudden. I presume it’s about Judd Crocker’s court-martial?”

“Not quite. It’s just that I can no longer give my loyalty to a man like President Clarke. This whole thing has been riddled with dishonesty and corruption. Nothing’s ever been straight, right from the start. And I cannot put up with it. I’m outta here, though he will not know that for a couple of days.

“I’ve been in the United States Navy almost all of my life, and I have never known such a series of totally shocking events. Losing Joe Mulligan? Archie Cameron? Disgracing our best submarine CO? All for this little shit Linus Clarke? No, Kathy, I’m not having it. I’m out.”

Then the admiral was gone, on his way to the Oval Office, taking with him his letter of resignation, effective Friday.

The President was stunned at his decision to quit on him.