Word of Honor (84 page)

Sproule went on in a somewhat convoluted manner, explaining the merits of the government's case, then the merits of the defense. He pointed out weaknesses in both cases and said, "You must be satisfied from the evidence, which consists solely of testimony, that the accused acted unlawfully, and further that any unlawful acts that the accused may have committed constitute murder. You must have an abiding belief, amounting to a moral certainty, that Lieutenant Benjamin Tyson is guilty as charged. I must remind you that because of the statute of limitations, there is no lesser included offe4se of which you may find him guilty. You may not return a verdict of manslaughter. You may not return a verdict of dereliction of duty, conspiracy, or any other lesser offense. You may only return a verdict of guilty or not guilty to the charge and to one or both of the specifications. "

Colonel Sproule explained the procedures under which the board had to operate, and it was apparent that he was

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explaining it not only to the board, who most probably knew the procedures, but to the civilian spectators and the press. He said, "There is no possibility in a trial by court-martial of a hung jury. The first vote on the charge will be decisive. To convict, four or more of you must have voted guilty. To acquit, three of you or more must have voted not guilty. So I urge you to deliberate for as long as you feel necessary before you cast your first and only ballot. If you vote to convict on the charge of murder, then you must vote on the specifications. You may vote to approve one or both of the specifications. If you cannot in good conscience vote for either specification as written, but you have voted to convict on the overall charge, then it is within your power and your duty to change the wording of one or both specifications so that it comports with your reasoning behind your guilty verdict. I warn you, however, that a rewording of the specifications may change their meaning to the extent that they define manslaughter. In such a case, the accused would be not guilty of any chargeable offense under the Code. "

Colonel Sproule said, "If you have reached a verdict by sixteen-thirty hours, you will return to this court to announce that verdict. If you have not reached a verdict by that time, you will be housed in the post bachelor officers' quarters and will not deliberate there. If you wish to deliberate this evening, you must arrange to be taken back to the deliberation room that has been set aside for you in the adjoining office wing."

Colonel Sproule continued, "I must remind you that you have sworn not to disclose or discover the vote or opinion of any particular member of the board. That is to say your vote and your reasoning for it are to remain secret after this court is adjourned and for all time."

Colonel Sproule leaned farther to the side of the pulpit toward the board and concluded, "The final determination as to the weight of the evidence and the credibility of the witnesses in this case rests solely upon you members of the court. You must disregard any comment or statement made by me during the course of the trial which may seem to 'indicate an opinion as to the guilt or innocence of the accused, for you alone have the independent responsibility of deciding this issue. Each of you must impartially resolve

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the ultimate issue as to the guilt or innocence of the accused in accordance with the law, the evidence admitted in court, and your own conscience. " Colonel Sproule straightened up and announced, "The court will be closed."

Tyson looked at his watch. The charge to the jury had taken a full forty-five minutes, and now all the words that could possibly influence them had been spoken.

Benjamin Tyson stared silently out the window of Rabbi Weitz's office.

It appeared that all the spectators had left the chapel and were now milling about over the lawns in the cool autumn sunshine. There were, in addition, several hundred people across the road behind MP barricades.

Corva poured himself a cup of coffee. "Do you want to go outside?"

"No.-

"Don't you want to see your family?"

Tyson continued to stare out the window. "No."

Corva came up beside him and glanced out the window. "They look properly subdued. Respectful. It wasn't such a circus. "

"Yes." The scene actually reminded him of a cigarette break outside a funeral home; people are introduced, there is the occasional brief smile.

Everyone has their back to the place, not wanting to be reminded of why they are there. The final sermon is about to begin, so no one strays too far.

Corva turned from the window and stood beside the desk. He put cream in his coffee. "Are you satisfied with how the trial went?"

Tyson said with a touch of sarcasm, "I suppose if one has to be tried for murder, that was as good a trial as one can expect."

"I mean," said Corva, a bit impatiently, "are you satisfied with how I represented you?"

"I'll let you know after the verdict." Tyson noted that Corva's manner was somewhat cool. He supposed that was a defensive response. He felt badly for Corva having to wait here with him. Tyson said, "Why don't you take a walk?"

"You mean I'm fired?"

"No. A walk. In the fresh air."

"I wouldn't get fifteen steps before the media surrounded WORD OF HONOR * 655

and annihilated me. I'll stay here until we're called. Or until four-thirty.

" Corva added, "But if you're going to smoke, open the window."

Tyson opened the window and felt the rush of cool, crisp autumn air. "How long do you think this will take?" He turned from the window.

Corva shrugged. "The trial was relatively short. There isn't much to consider except testimony. They may ask for transcripts of that. "

Tyson waited, then asked again, "How long? Days? Hours? Minutes? Do I have time to finish a cigarette?"

"Court-martial deliberations are usually short. There is only one vote, and it is binding. " He paused. "I suspect that everyone's mind was made up as they rose from their seats. "

Tyson nodded distractedly.

Corva said, "There is no reason for them to pretend they agonized for days.

In fact, there is subtle pressure on them to make up their minds. They are officers. They have heard the case. They have duties awaiting them. They would rather be back with their units than here. So, to give you a precise answer, I expect a verdict before four-thirty. "

Tyson looked at the wall clock. "Six hours."

"Yes. More than ample time."

Tyson contrived a smile. "Nervous?"

"Anxious. "

"You going to break your streak?"

Corva smiled wanly but didn't reply.

Tyson and Corva conversed on various irrelevant topics. No subject seemed appropriate, and each short foray into idle chatter inevitably led to something they didn't care to pursue. After an hour and a half, Corva opened the door and asked the MP to bring them newspapers and magazines. He said to Tyson, "I'll ask you one more time-you're authorized to go back to your quarters--do you want to go?"

.'No. I I

"Do you want to go to the club for lunch?"

"No. I'm not particularly hungry. You can have something brought in."

"Are you feeling sorry for yourself?"

"No. I'm feeling sorry for you. And for my family."

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"Can I send an MP to bring your wife here?"

"No. ' ~

"Your son?"

"No. And not my mother or my sisters or my minister or anyone." Tyson's voice rose. "Why can't you understand that I cannot face anyone now? Why can't you understand that if I see anyone ... I don't want anyone to see me in my present condition .... Can't a man suffer alone, in dignity, anymore?" He pointed to Corva. "Would you want your family around you?"

Corva replied in a soothing tone, "I might, Ben. I might want their support-"

"Oh, fuck support. That's an idiotic word."

Corva drew a deep, patient breath. "I just wanted to make sure you understand that this may be the last time ... for some time ... that you can speak to them without ... guards present.

Tyson paced across the small office. At length he said in a calmer tone,

"I don't mean to take this out on you. You just happen to be here. So leave."

"No, Sir. My personal policy is to stay with the accused.

Tyson stopped pacing and turned to Corva. "Well? Take a guess. As long as you're here, entertain me. Take a guess."

Corva said evenly, "Within the narrow confines of the charges and from a legal point of view, the government proved its case."

Tyson said, "So what is taking them so long? They're officers. Why can't they make up their minds?"

"Because the defense proved other things. Things that went beyond what they'd expected to hear." He looked at Tyson. "I'm not upset with you for holding some of this back. I asked you to. I wanted it revealed spontaneously, in its own time. And the board listened, and their impassive faces betrayed their emotions. They are human; therefore, they are now questioning themselves."

Tyson didn't respond.

Corva said, "Right now, one or two of them are making arguments to try to influence a second or third member to say, 'The hell with the law.'

That can be the only reason for any delay."

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"Will it happen? Will three of them say, 'The hell with the law'?"

Corva glanced at Tyson, then looked off at the rabbi's bulletin board. He said, "If they say the hell with the law, then they are saying the hell with the Army. They are part of the system, the embodiment of the Code.

They are sworn officers. They have more of a vested interest in this system than any civilian juror has in the civilian judicial system. What would you do in their place? How do you vote?"

Tyson thought a moment, then replied, "I vote guilty."

"Me too."

"So what is taking so long?"

"I honestly don't know. I told you . . . they are having some problems getting to the vote. Colonel Moore is not calling for the vote because one or two of them is sticking his or her neck out and making a pitch for you.

Maybe Moore is making the pitcl,, himself. Maybe Davis is on your side, too. Maybe Sindel is the one pushing for a quick guilty vote. Maybe Laski would have been the third person we needed on your side. I don't know.

Nobody knows ... juries never fail to surprise me."

"Even military juries?"

"Even them sometimes."

"You'd be damned surprised if you won this case."

Corva began to smile, but the sound of footsteps in the corridor brought him to his feet. There was a knock on the door, and an MP opened it, carrying a stack of newspapers and magazines. He said, "Got next month's Playboy, too. Get you anything else, Mr. Corva?"

"No, thanks."

The MP left. Tyson and Corva read desultorily. At half past noon, there were again footsteps outside the door. They stopped. There was a knock, and the door opened. Sergeant Larson said, "Can I take your lunch order? Or are you going out?"

Corva replied, "Have sandwiches and coffee sent, Sergeant. Surprise us. But no white bread and no mayo.'9

They waited a half hour, and Tyson commented, "It usually takes fifteen minutes to get sandwiches from the mess hall. Maybe they've reached a verdict."

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"We'd still get the lunch before we were called. Try to relax. "

"I'm relaxed. I'm bored."

Again there were footsteps, a knock, and the door opened. Sergeant Larson entered with a cardboard box which he set down on the desk. Tyson saw it was crammed with sandwiches, salads, and desserts. Larson said, "My wife.

She's been insisting," he added with some embarrassment. "Hope it's okay."

Corva said, "Tell her we appreciate it."

Tyson took a wrapped sandwich, though he didn't want one. "That was thoughtful of her, Sergeant."

Larson smiled and left.

Corva found a chicken cutlet sandwich on rye bread and bit into it. He said, "As I told you once, and as you see and hear every day, you are not guilty in the public mind. "

"I never thought much of American public opinion and judgment before. I'm a snob and an elitist. I don't deserve to take comfort in what they think now."

Corva found a can of cola and popped it open. "You have a good grasp of who you are and the world you live in. Unfortunately, who you are and the world you live in don't get along."

Tyson discovered two beers in the cardboard box and drank both of them without offering one to Corva.

Corva ate with no apparent loss of appetite.

Tyson went to the men's room under escort. Corva went on his own. The afternoon played itself out in boredom and anxiety. The sunlight was beginning to fail, and a wind came up off the water, scattering the red and gold leaves over the lawns and sidewalks, and rustling them against the side of the building. Tyson went to the window and noticed that the crowd had thinned and those who had not gone back in the chapel were huddled against the chill wind. Tyson said, more to himself than Corva, "Last autumn I raked the leaves and threw around the football with my son. I split logs and built fires in my fireplace. We went to a farm out east and bought pumpkins and gourds and apple cider. We came home, and I made hot rum toddies. I like the smell of autumn." .

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Corva replied in an equally distant voice. "Me too. I missed it in Cu Chi.

I had my brother send me a shoebox full of leaves." He smiled to himself.

"I gave them to people who said they missed the fall."

Tyson said, "Sounds like you were fishing for a psychiatric discharge."

Corva picked up the Daily News. The headlines read simply: VERDICT TODAY?

Tyson looked at it. "Good question." He looked at the wall clock. It was four-sixteen.

At four-twenty, Corva stood and went to the window. "No one seems to be leaving. The press vans are still there. "

At four twenty-five, Tyson stood. "I didn't want to have to sleep on this.

Have me put up in the BOQ. I'm not going home tonight. "

Corva replied, "All right. I won't argue with you." He added, "It may be nerve-racking to have to wait, but it is not a bad sign. Something happened in that deliberation room. I I