GWOT VII - Court Martial
Jan. 25th, 2020 08:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
drewkittyGWOT VII - Court Martial
The judge was sitting behind the bench. We had just stood up and seated ourselves again.
It felt really weird to be in a courtroom again.
It felt even weirder to be sitting in the audience, not up behind the bench as when I'd presided over atrocity trials at Alviso.
But this was in a secured conference room in Old Sacramento, the presiding party was a randomly assigned officer from the Provost Marshal's office, and I was sitting on very much the wrong side of the courtroom.
In the dock.
My defense counsel was sufficiently in awe of me that he hadn't said a word. Somehow this didn't comfort me as to the strength or skill of his defense.
"People of the California Republic versus Major [18]. You are charged with one count …"
One count? What?
"… of Article 92 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, Dereliction Of Duty. It is alleged that as Commanding Officer of the deployment of California Republic forces in support of the United Nations peacekeeping detachment, UNNAPD …"
He couldn't pronounce it either.
"… you performed your duties in a wilfully negligent manner, in such fashion that your force sustained over fifty percent casualties. To be specific, three hundred six California Republic personnel under your operational control were killed and another one hundred seventeen wounded. How does the defendant plead?"
When I started to speak my defense counsel put his hand over my lips. I was so shocked I neither bit it nor broke his arm.
"Motion to dismiss in the interests of justice."
He looked at me firmly and shook his head. No.
The clerk of the court handed a two page document to the judge and to the prosecution counsel.
The prosecution counsel read it carefully, but more quickly than the judge.
"Is this authentic, Defense Counsellor?"
This is military court. Lying in front of such a court can get you charged with numerous UCMJ violations.
"Yes."
"Your Honor, this court never should have been convened. The prosecution withdraws this charge and apologizes to the Court."
For wasting its time.
I stood immediately.
"I object," I said loudly.
The Judge had just finished reading the order for the third time.
"Sit down and shut up, Major."
I perforce sat.
"Let the record show that this two page document is the text of a written order from the Governor of California to Major [18], ordering him to take certain actions and measures for the good of the Republic and in the service of humanity. This document is classified. Clerk, return both copies to me. Counsel will see me in my chambers, now.
"Major. Sit there and be silent."
With that, the three of them left the room.
That left me in a room with military police, the clerk of the court, the recorder, and a packed house of military witnesses - most of whom had been under my command until my return to California.
The force I'd gone out with could fill a high school gym.
The force I'd come back with could barely fill that high school's swimming pool.
Some were in hospital. But over half were dead.
I'd been told to sit there and be silent.
I hadn't been told that I couldn't turn around.
So I did. To look my people in the face. Now that they were no longer under my command, they could show their sentiments as freely as a military court in temporary recess permitted.
There were fierce grins. Thumbs up. Nods. More than one totally inappropriate salute.
As the door to the judge's hallway opened, they blanked and I turned back around.
"Major 18," the Judge began.
"The events in Iowa are well known to the public, the Court and indeed the world. Your deployment's military records are complete and are in agreement with the observations of other California Republic activities in a position to collaborate. The question that had been raised before this court is simple. I wish to address it so that I can extinguish it.
"As you know, having sat in the chair, the first purpose of the military justice system is not common justice. It is the order, efficiency and effectiveness of the California Republic's fighting forces.
"When a naval officer loses the ship that the California Republic has entrusted to her or him, a court martial follows automatically. Lives and treasure are gone; California reasonably wants to know what happened to both.
"This question does not arise here. We know what happened to your men and women. They died hard defending innocent human life. They did so in the highest traditions of any military service, let alone the California Republic.
"So the other half of the question is whether you, Major 18, did your utmost to carry out the mission you were given. Your objection was proper. Now that the question has been raised, you would like proof that you were not derelict in your duty.
"I am in receipt of additional information on this point. Pending its public release, this is my ruling. Stand up, Major."
I did so.
"The defense - and prosecution - request to withdraw the charges is denied. Major 18, you have been charged with one count of UCMJ Article 92, Dereliction of Duty. You have not pled.
"Major, what is your plea?"
I took a moment to think about it.
I had to. The faces behind me demanded it.
"Not guilty, Your Honor."
"Noted. Prosecution and defense, your objections are overruled. Major 18, based on the evidence of the public record and of this document, I rule that you are most honorably exonerated. Withdrawal or dismissal of the charges would leave doubt. Acquittal would imply that the matter needed weighing. This is neither.
"With the thanks of the Republic, get out of my courtroom. Dismissed. And adjourned."
The Judge got up and left so quickly that none of us could react.
My people swarmed over the balk line and surrounded me, pounding on my back and cheering.
They dragged me out of the courtroom, down the hall and to the front steps of the Military Building.
A much, much larger crowd awaited. There was a podium, a speaker's pulpit, audio…. and my brain couldn't help but notice the security arrangements.
This part had been planned. This was a crowd in the thousands. Mostly military, but not all.
Someone was shaking my hand. The Commanding General, California Expeditionary Forces. The Provost Marshal herself. Then the Commanding General, California Republic.
Highest ranking last. The Governor in the flesh.
Pat gave me a fierce hug. Governors can do that, dispense with protocol.
Pat whispered in my ear.
"I heard about this fucking farce last night. I knew you'd try to duck out of a public ceremony, so I did it this way. Humor us for a few minutes and we'll get you clear."
Pat took the mike.
"People of California, defenders of California, thank you all for coming. We are here to - briefly - honor Major [18], for all he has done for the California Republic and for the state of Iowa, and in the cause of justice and freedom.
"Bend your head, Major."
I did perforce.
She put something on a wreath around my neck.
"By arrangement with the state of Iowa, and on behalf of that great state, you are awarded the Governor's Lifesaving Award for your actions within that state in cooperation with …"
… defiance of …
"… the UN peacekeeping operation to protect innocent people from separation, starvation, kidnapping and murder."
The crowd cheered. I saluted the Governor, the officers on stage.
Some misguided aide handed me the microphone.
The crowd roared.
"Speech! Speech! Speech!"
I had no time to think.
"Thank you all for coming. I did nothing. My people - your people, lent to me by this great California - did everything I asked them to do. Many of them lost their lives doing it.
"'Greater love hath no person than that they lay down their life for a friend.'
"They died for strangers. Sick people, scared people, hurting people. Often enough, not very nice people. They loved California so very much that they laid down their lives for her. They didn't ask why. California called and they hauled.
"I shouldn't say this. This is a politician thing. But someone has to, and I don't want people to get confused.
"No more genocide! No more murders! No more dead cities! No more express deliveries of canned sunshine! No more walking dead, not knowing if radiation will kill them in five months or five years! No more picking out those Other People and pointing at them and using them as scapegoats, cutting _their_ throats out of _our_ shame!
"We know genocide. We know that stinky bitch all too well. We stop her, out there, so she never ever comes back here!
"But don't get confused! I didn't do this for those poor bastards in Iowa. In the affairs of nations, gratitude means nothing! We, the California Republic, did this for _revenge_ and for _deterrence_.
"REVENGE for San Francisco. DETERRENCE that anyone who murders civilians or nukes cities has something new to fear. Five idiot kids in a pickup raping and murdering a refugee, or five hundred thousand Church militia cleansing their state of filth, we don't care. Rope, especially when tied in a noose, speaks a universal language. The answer to rape, is rope. The answer to genocide, a lot more rope."
With difficulty, I stopped myself.
"Over to you, Governor. Peace is your profession."
Handed Pat the mike.
Pat thanked the crowd again, built on my foundation a tower of hope and peace and making a difference.
I stood there smiling, seeing in my mind just one thing.
Rope.
###
Pat and I ended up in the back of the same limo.
"You're not running for office anytime soon, right?" Pat asked. Almost worried.
I shook my head.
"Have something else for you," and Pat handed me an envelope with a single crisp page in it. Gold seals too.
"Doctor," she said. I read it.
The Church Triumphant of Iowa - one of the larger sects, and one that had accepted the peace deal - had awarded me an honorary doctorate of theology. For my speeches and for my actions.
I tucked it in with the folder containing my legal papers, which I thought I'd need for the trial.
"You know what the reward is for a job well done."
I nodded.
"Try to act surprised when they tell you next week. Another promotion out of zone, Lieutenant Colonel. Your name has been submitted to the California State Assembly."
That was weird. The Senate normally approved the higher promotions.
"I am sending you to Monterey for a few weeks. Language course, protocol course, brush up on close protection. I am appointing you assistant military attache to the new embassy."
My face betrayed my puzzlement.
"Beijing. You're going to China. And while you're there, I'm going to ram through an ambassadorial appointment for you. Once I kick some teeth in the Senate, you might stay in Beijing and you might go somewhere else. Maybe France.
"But if we're really, really lucky, and you do as well in your diplomatic career as you did in Iowa, I hope to appoint you ambassador to our biggest most dangerous neighbor."
Me, a diplomat?
I must have had a little native talent, because I did not laugh in the Governor's face.
But to Mexico?
"No, Colonel. America."
The judge was sitting behind the bench. We had just stood up and seated ourselves again.
It felt really weird to be in a courtroom again.
It felt even weirder to be sitting in the audience, not up behind the bench as when I'd presided over atrocity trials at Alviso.
But this was in a secured conference room in Old Sacramento, the presiding party was a randomly assigned officer from the Provost Marshal's office, and I was sitting on very much the wrong side of the courtroom.
In the dock.
My defense counsel was sufficiently in awe of me that he hadn't said a word. Somehow this didn't comfort me as to the strength or skill of his defense.
"People of the California Republic versus Major [18]. You are charged with one count …"
One count? What?
"… of Article 92 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, Dereliction Of Duty. It is alleged that as Commanding Officer of the deployment of California Republic forces in support of the United Nations peacekeeping detachment, UNNAPD …"
He couldn't pronounce it either.
"… you performed your duties in a wilfully negligent manner, in such fashion that your force sustained over fifty percent casualties. To be specific, three hundred six California Republic personnel under your operational control were killed and another one hundred seventeen wounded. How does the defendant plead?"
When I started to speak my defense counsel put his hand over my lips. I was so shocked I neither bit it nor broke his arm.
"Motion to dismiss in the interests of justice."
He looked at me firmly and shook his head. No.
The clerk of the court handed a two page document to the judge and to the prosecution counsel.
The prosecution counsel read it carefully, but more quickly than the judge.
"Is this authentic, Defense Counsellor?"
This is military court. Lying in front of such a court can get you charged with numerous UCMJ violations.
"Yes."
"Your Honor, this court never should have been convened. The prosecution withdraws this charge and apologizes to the Court."
For wasting its time.
I stood immediately.
"I object," I said loudly.
The Judge had just finished reading the order for the third time.
"Sit down and shut up, Major."
I perforce sat.
"Let the record show that this two page document is the text of a written order from the Governor of California to Major [18], ordering him to take certain actions and measures for the good of the Republic and in the service of humanity. This document is classified. Clerk, return both copies to me. Counsel will see me in my chambers, now.
"Major. Sit there and be silent."
With that, the three of them left the room.
That left me in a room with military police, the clerk of the court, the recorder, and a packed house of military witnesses - most of whom had been under my command until my return to California.
The force I'd gone out with could fill a high school gym.
The force I'd come back with could barely fill that high school's swimming pool.
Some were in hospital. But over half were dead.
I'd been told to sit there and be silent.
I hadn't been told that I couldn't turn around.
So I did. To look my people in the face. Now that they were no longer under my command, they could show their sentiments as freely as a military court in temporary recess permitted.
There were fierce grins. Thumbs up. Nods. More than one totally inappropriate salute.
As the door to the judge's hallway opened, they blanked and I turned back around.
"Major 18," the Judge began.
"The events in Iowa are well known to the public, the Court and indeed the world. Your deployment's military records are complete and are in agreement with the observations of other California Republic activities in a position to collaborate. The question that had been raised before this court is simple. I wish to address it so that I can extinguish it.
"As you know, having sat in the chair, the first purpose of the military justice system is not common justice. It is the order, efficiency and effectiveness of the California Republic's fighting forces.
"When a naval officer loses the ship that the California Republic has entrusted to her or him, a court martial follows automatically. Lives and treasure are gone; California reasonably wants to know what happened to both.
"This question does not arise here. We know what happened to your men and women. They died hard defending innocent human life. They did so in the highest traditions of any military service, let alone the California Republic.
"So the other half of the question is whether you, Major 18, did your utmost to carry out the mission you were given. Your objection was proper. Now that the question has been raised, you would like proof that you were not derelict in your duty.
"I am in receipt of additional information on this point. Pending its public release, this is my ruling. Stand up, Major."
I did so.
"The defense - and prosecution - request to withdraw the charges is denied. Major 18, you have been charged with one count of UCMJ Article 92, Dereliction of Duty. You have not pled.
"Major, what is your plea?"
I took a moment to think about it.
I had to. The faces behind me demanded it.
"Not guilty, Your Honor."
"Noted. Prosecution and defense, your objections are overruled. Major 18, based on the evidence of the public record and of this document, I rule that you are most honorably exonerated. Withdrawal or dismissal of the charges would leave doubt. Acquittal would imply that the matter needed weighing. This is neither.
"With the thanks of the Republic, get out of my courtroom. Dismissed. And adjourned."
The Judge got up and left so quickly that none of us could react.
My people swarmed over the balk line and surrounded me, pounding on my back and cheering.
They dragged me out of the courtroom, down the hall and to the front steps of the Military Building.
A much, much larger crowd awaited. There was a podium, a speaker's pulpit, audio…. and my brain couldn't help but notice the security arrangements.
This part had been planned. This was a crowd in the thousands. Mostly military, but not all.
Someone was shaking my hand. The Commanding General, California Expeditionary Forces. The Provost Marshal herself. Then the Commanding General, California Republic.
Highest ranking last. The Governor in the flesh.
Pat gave me a fierce hug. Governors can do that, dispense with protocol.
Pat whispered in my ear.
"I heard about this fucking farce last night. I knew you'd try to duck out of a public ceremony, so I did it this way. Humor us for a few minutes and we'll get you clear."
Pat took the mike.
"People of California, defenders of California, thank you all for coming. We are here to - briefly - honor Major [18], for all he has done for the California Republic and for the state of Iowa, and in the cause of justice and freedom.
"Bend your head, Major."
I did perforce.
She put something on a wreath around my neck.
"By arrangement with the state of Iowa, and on behalf of that great state, you are awarded the Governor's Lifesaving Award for your actions within that state in cooperation with …"
… defiance of …
"… the UN peacekeeping operation to protect innocent people from separation, starvation, kidnapping and murder."
The crowd cheered. I saluted the Governor, the officers on stage.
Some misguided aide handed me the microphone.
The crowd roared.
"Speech! Speech! Speech!"
I had no time to think.
"Thank you all for coming. I did nothing. My people - your people, lent to me by this great California - did everything I asked them to do. Many of them lost their lives doing it.
"'Greater love hath no person than that they lay down their life for a friend.'
"They died for strangers. Sick people, scared people, hurting people. Often enough, not very nice people. They loved California so very much that they laid down their lives for her. They didn't ask why. California called and they hauled.
"I shouldn't say this. This is a politician thing. But someone has to, and I don't want people to get confused.
"No more genocide! No more murders! No more dead cities! No more express deliveries of canned sunshine! No more walking dead, not knowing if radiation will kill them in five months or five years! No more picking out those Other People and pointing at them and using them as scapegoats, cutting _their_ throats out of _our_ shame!
"We know genocide. We know that stinky bitch all too well. We stop her, out there, so she never ever comes back here!
"But don't get confused! I didn't do this for those poor bastards in Iowa. In the affairs of nations, gratitude means nothing! We, the California Republic, did this for _revenge_ and for _deterrence_.
"REVENGE for San Francisco. DETERRENCE that anyone who murders civilians or nukes cities has something new to fear. Five idiot kids in a pickup raping and murdering a refugee, or five hundred thousand Church militia cleansing their state of filth, we don't care. Rope, especially when tied in a noose, speaks a universal language. The answer to rape, is rope. The answer to genocide, a lot more rope."
With difficulty, I stopped myself.
"Over to you, Governor. Peace is your profession."
Handed Pat the mike.
Pat thanked the crowd again, built on my foundation a tower of hope and peace and making a difference.
I stood there smiling, seeing in my mind just one thing.
Rope.
###
Pat and I ended up in the back of the same limo.
"You're not running for office anytime soon, right?" Pat asked. Almost worried.
I shook my head.
"Have something else for you," and Pat handed me an envelope with a single crisp page in it. Gold seals too.
"Doctor," she said. I read it.
The Church Triumphant of Iowa - one of the larger sects, and one that had accepted the peace deal - had awarded me an honorary doctorate of theology. For my speeches and for my actions.
I tucked it in with the folder containing my legal papers, which I thought I'd need for the trial.
"You know what the reward is for a job well done."
I nodded.
"Try to act surprised when they tell you next week. Another promotion out of zone, Lieutenant Colonel. Your name has been submitted to the California State Assembly."
That was weird. The Senate normally approved the higher promotions.
"I am sending you to Monterey for a few weeks. Language course, protocol course, brush up on close protection. I am appointing you assistant military attache to the new embassy."
My face betrayed my puzzlement.
"Beijing. You're going to China. And while you're there, I'm going to ram through an ambassadorial appointment for you. Once I kick some teeth in the Senate, you might stay in Beijing and you might go somewhere else. Maybe France.
"But if we're really, really lucky, and you do as well in your diplomatic career as you did in Iowa, I hope to appoint you ambassador to our biggest most dangerous neighbor."
Me, a diplomat?
I must have had a little native talent, because I did not laugh in the Governor's face.
But to Mexico?
"No, Colonel. America."
