Ghosts of Bungo Suido (38 page)

“Commander?” the yeoman said. “Captain White can see you now. Right through there.”

Gar went into the PacFleet JAG’s office. Captain White was a severe looking four-striper with gray hair and piercing eyes behind steel-rimmed eyeglasses. Before the war every navy captain Gar had ever seen looked like that. Now most four-stripers were in their early forties, so this captain had probably been here since before the war. White pointed unceremoniously toward a chair in front of his desk.

“Commander Hammond,” he said. “Let me set the stage here before you say anything at all. You have been designated as an interested party to a court of inquiry, to be convened here in Pearl Harbor, in order to determine if certain accusations made by another officer regarding your conduct as a POW are true. Is this what you’ve been told?”

“More or less,” Gar said.

“Okay. I see here you’ve requested Lieutenant Commander DeVeers to represent you at a court of inquiry. Short answer: That will not be possible, and frankly, not advisable. She has been assigned to a long-term project while she waits for her discharge.”

“Discharge?”

“All the WAVE officers were temporary commissions in the Reserves. They will now all be discharged and returned to civilian life.”

“Why’d you say ‘not advisable’?”

White looked down at the pile of papers on his desk for a moment. “Lieutenant Commander DeVeers has a problem, Commander. A problem that, in my opinion, has affected her performance of duty. I would not want her as my defense counsel, and neither would you. If she were to have anything to do with this court, it would be in the capacity as counsel for the court. But like I said—she’s simply not available. In fact, I may have to do it myself.”

“Counsel for the court—the prosecution, in other words?”

Captain White leaned back in his chair. “No. This isn’t a court-martial. It’s a court of inquiry. Two very different things. A court of inquiry means a board of three line officers—captains, in all probability, since you’re a commander—chaired by the senior officer of the three. For admin purposes, the court will be convened by the 14th Naval District commandant. It’s a temporary entity—it’s convened for a specific case and then disbands once findings are made. The statute provides for a lawyer to be assigned to the court as counsel, since the members are all line officers. His job is to keep the court within bounds of proper legal procedure. To keep it fair, the ‘interested party’ gets one, too, assuming you want one. The whole point of a court of inquiry is to determine what further action, if any, needs to be taken in the matter.”

“And that further action could involve a court-martial?”

“Indeed it could.”

“So I
do
want a lawyer, right?”

“As I said, the court will have one, so I certainly would advise
you
to have one, and we will appoint one if you so request. You have rights in these proceedings. You get to confront your accuser, examine and cross-examine witnesses, if any, and introduce evidence. What you can’t have is Sharon DeVeers.”

Already have, Gar thought irreverently.

*   *   *

On the way out of the JAG’s office he asked the yeoman for a staff directory and found Sharon’s phone number. Once down at the front entrance he used an internal phone to call her. Her yeoman said she was busy, so he left a message asking her to meet him at the Pink Palace that evening, if possible. Being an orphan at the moment, he didn’t have a phone number, other than the front desk of the hotel. He told the yeoman he’d check back and said to tell Lieutenant Commander DeVeers that this was a business, not a personal, call. Then he took a shuttle bus back to the sub base. He needed to find more permanent digs at the BOQ now that the Pink Palace was shutting down. SubPac was releasing the requisitioned rooms in ten days, as most of the force’s submarines were already on their way to West Coast shipyards for demobilization. When it came to actual submarines, the sub base was becoming a ghost town.

He also needed to refill his seabag. He needed a complete set of uniforms and some civvies. He’d left the Dragon in a come-as-you-are exposure suit and work khakis. Unless they’d off-loaded his personal effects between getting back from the Kure operation and her last patrol, everything he owned went to the bottom with her, including his academy ring. Basically he had to reconstitute everything and, oh by the way, face a court of inquiry because of something he’d said to an army air force major in the back of a Jap boxcar. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. Having survived all of the things that had happened to him over the past nine months, he now had to face an investigation by his own superiors while everybody else was headed stateside for Christmas.

Sharon showed up in the lobby at six thirty. She tried unsuccessfully to hide the shock she felt when she saw Gar. She looked none the worse for wear and still wore that waterfall of blond hair pulled across her forehead. Gar found himself wanting to touch it.

“Goddamn, Gar Hammond,” she exclaimed. “You look like you got shot at and missed, shit at and hit.”

“You look pretty good, too,” he offered. They did a two-handed handshake and then just stood there for a moment. “My long lost, one true love,” he said.

“Hell, yes,” she replied, with that big grin. “Let’s get a drink, before they dismantle the bar.”

They spent the next two hours in a corner booth. The hotel wasn’t exactly deserted, but it had the air of a place that was going to close pretty soon, and the staff obviously knew it. He told her his story, soup to nuts, and she listened intently. When he was finished, she asked why he had said this was business tonight. That’s when he told her about the court.

“That’s bullshit,” she said. “A court of inquiry for a ‘he said, she said’ story? Bullshit. Total bullshit. I’ll tell you what a court of inquiry is for: Would you believe I’m working on setting up yet another high-level investigation and inquiry into the December seventh attack on Pearl Harbor? And they want to take you to a court of inquiry?”

Total bullshit, indeed, he thought. Besides, who didn’t know the answer to the question of who was responsible for the disaster that was Pearl Harbor? The fucking Japanese, that’s who. “That’s what they’re telling me.”

“For
collaborating
with the enemy?”

“I told this major that I talked to them. And I did talk to them, mostly to stop them from killing any more prisoners. They knew I’d been a CO, and they knew that I probably knew important stuff. That guy sat there and had a prisoner shot right in front of me when I did the name-rank-serial-number deal. Then they brought out another one—shot him, too,
after
I said I’d talk to them. They’re not human—they’re a bunch of medieval monsters from the tenth century.”

“What did you tell this major that you gave up to the Japanese?”

“I told him I’d talked to them. That I delivered a whole lot of bullshit, exaggeration, lies, and some truths.”

“Did you tell him
exactly
what you told them?”

“No.”

“Did you tell him that you talked to them to save other prisoners’ lives?”

“No. Well, maybe. I can’t remember.”

“Then here’s the answer: You request an admiral’s mast. You have that right when a court-martial is in the offing. Look, if a court of inquiry determines that whatever you did constituted collaborating with the enemy, you will be court-martialed and jailed until the end of time.”

“How does an admiral’s mast prevent that?”

“You were a CO—you did captain’s mast, right?”

“Rarely, but yes.”

“And if it actually came to bringing one of your crew before captain’s mast, is it true to say that you could have, under navy regs, sent him to court-martial?”

“Yes, although we almost never did that.”

“Listen to me, Gar Hammond—lady lawyer speaking now. You request an admiral’s mast within
your
chain of command—that’s ComSubPac. You have that right. You tell the truth about what you said to the Japs, and why, and everything that happened afterward. My view of collaborating with the enemy is a POW who trades information for better treatment, to the detriment of his fellow POWs. You didn’t do that, and any flag officer in SubPac will recognize that. An army or army air force colonel might not understand that.”

“You’re saying this court of inquiry might not be navy?”

“Absolutely. You could be looking at three army colonels, who haven’t the faintest idea of what it was like to be a submarine CO, or, for that matter, a POW. They’re more than likely to be professional staff officers, and they’ll have quaint notions like you only tell the enemy name, rank, and serial number, to the death, of course.”

“To the death,” he muttered. “Just like the Japs.” He leaned back in the booth and closed his eyes. This was too hard. He thought he’d done well. He thought he’d so dismayed that Jap intel officer that he’d even shot himself.

“Look,” she said. “You have to tell
your
story, the whole story. You said you’ve been put in for two very high decorations. What I’m saying is that the same people who put you in for those decorations should be the ones who hear the whole story—what you told the Japs,
why
you talked, how they didn’t believe any of it, what they did in the POW camp, what
you
did in the POW camp.”

“Do I need a lawyer with me at mast?”

“No, although White will probably appoint one for the court if that goes through. Request admiral’s mast within your own chain of command and just tell the truth. Go before Lockwood and tell him what happened. He’s a straight shooter, and he knows what you guys went through. It’s basic law: You’re supposed to get a jury of your
peers.
Doesn’t happen that way in civilian life, but you damned well
can
still get that in the navy. That’s my professional advice.”

“Whew,” Gar said. “I feel like stripping down to swim shorts and clacks and going native at the back of the island.”

“Gar, do you feel guilty about what you did out there in the Japanese prison camps?”

“Hell, no. Proud, if anything. I survived. I endured. That’s what POWs try to do.”

“Then do as I say.”

“If it goes to court, can you represent me?”

She paused. “I’m not sure,” she said finally. “Captain White makes those appointments, and he and I are not exactly on terrific terms.”

“So he indicated,” Gar replied.

“What?”

“He said that you had a problem and that he would not want you for his lawyer and neither would I.”

“That
bastard.
”

“He also said you were going to be sent back to the civilian world, along with all the other WAVES, now that the war was over.”

“Yes, that’s true,” she said. “I’ll be leaving here sometime next month.” She frowned. “He actually said that? He wouldn’t want me as his lawyer, and neither would you?”

“His words, not mine.”

She sat back in her chair. “If it does go to a court, you, as an interested party, can request a specific individual to act as your counsel. In a court-martial, they
must
agree to that request if at all possible. In a court of inquiry, that’s not always true. A court-martial can impose punishment. A court of inquiry is all about determining if there are grounds for a court-martial.”

“In English, then, will you represent me if I ask?”

“Let’s see what happens after you talk to Admiral Lockwood,” she said. “Hopefully he will interject some adult supervision here and make this whole thing go away.”

“New subject,” he said. “Fancy having dinner with me?”

She took his hand. “Sorry, Gar. Previous engagement. Whole different social scene now that the war’s over. Besides—”

“Yeah, I remember. Can’t blame me for trying.”

“I’d have been disappointed if you hadn’t. Let me know what happens.”

THIRTY-SIX

It took ten days. His request for an admiral’s mast had upset the apple cart at CincPacFleet. It turned out that the whole court of inquiry idea had come from none other than Captain White. He wasn’t pleased with Gar’s request, but Forrester managed to convince him to let Gar take a shot at mast. Now, almost a month after getting back to paradise, Gar was waiting in Admiral Lockwood’s outer office, wearing brand-new dress khakis, with a tie, even. Now that the boss was back from the advance headquarters out in Guam, the flow of staffers coming and going never abated. Gar got some strange looks from time to time; apparently they’d never seen a wartime sub CO sitting in the outer office awaiting mast. The faces were all new, and they seemed to be much younger than Gar remembered. Looking through the office windows, he was struck by how empty the finger piers looked. During the war there would have been a dozen or more boats out there, all beehives of activity. Now all he could see was palm trees. He’d moved to the sub base BOQ from the Pink Palace, and even the BOQ felt empty.

During the war. That was an expression that certainly would be coming into its own from now on.
Back in my day, sonny …
Gar smiled. The yeomen looked at him as if he were just a little bit nuts.

“The admiral will see you now, Commander,” a voice announced.

Gar got up, put his brand-new brass hat on, took a deep breath, and went into the inner sanctum. He expected to see Admiral Lockwood standing tall behind a podium, with a sergeant at arms on one side and the chief of staff on the other. Instead, Uncle Charlie was in his shirtsleeves and speaking loudly on his phone, probably on an overseas trunk call. Admiral Forrester was fixing himself a cup of coffee at the sideboard, and indicating to Gar to get some. They both sat down while waiting for Admiral Lockwood to finish. When he did hang up it was with a mild curse.

“We’re going to rue the day we let the goddamned Joint Chiefs of Staff have a vote on submarine policy, you mark my words,” he said to Forrester. Then he turned to Gar with a smile. “Gar Hammond, welcome back to the land of the living. What’s all this BS about an admiral’s mast and a court of inquiry? Who’d you piss off this time?”