Chapter 14: Scapegoat

13 June 1988 – Fort Bragg, North Carolina

“Private Knox, you’re under arrest.”

What the hell? Jeff stood frozen in shock.

The sergeant nodded to one of the MPs behind Jeff. The specialist stepped up to Jeff, grabbed his thumbs, and snapped handcuffs on him. That brought Jeff out of his trance, but he did not react. The MPs were doing their jobs and this was neither the time nor the place to act up.

“Private Knox, I want to advise you of your rights under Article Thirty-one of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. You have the right to remain silent, that is, to say nothing at all. Any statement you do make, either oral or written, may be used against you in a trial by court-martial or in other judicial, nonjudicial or administrative proceedings.

“You have the right to consult with a lawyer prior to any questioning and to have a lawyer present during any interview. You have the right to military counsel free of charge. In addition to military counsel, you are entitled to civilian counsel of your own choosing at your own expense. You may request a lawyer at any time during any interview. Do you understand your rights, Private?”

“Yes, Sergeant. At this time, I wish to request the presence of military counsel prior to any questioning.”

One of the things he and Jack Dwadczik talked about during their workouts was what to do if he was ever arrested; that discussion boiled down to him keeping his mouth shut after he requested a lawyer.

“Very well.” The sergeant raised his radio. “Bravo Zero-Three, Uniform Zero-Six, suspect in custody. Suspect requests presence of JAG prior to questioning.”

“Roger, Zero-Six. One in custody, requesting JAG.”

“Zero-Six to all Uniform units. Suspect secure.” The sergeant placed his radio back in its holder. He motioned for his men to follow him.

“Jeff, I’ll call Sergeant Tyler,” Ken called out as the MPs led him away. His squad-mates stared in disbelief from their doorways as he was escorted down the hall. His cheeks burned from embarrassment and anger.

What the HELL?

Sergeant Tyler stood in the lobby next to the CQ desk by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Sergeant, I’m Knox’s squad leader; can I ask what’s going on?”

“Private Knox is under arrest for theft of Government property, conspiracy to commit theft and other charges. He has requested counsel as is his right under UCMJ Article Thirty-one,” the MP sergeant explained. One of the other MPs placed Jeff’s beret on his head in preparation for leading him outside.

“Thank you, Sergeant.”

The MP nodded at Tyler, then at his men. They led Jeff to a waiting MP cruiser and placed him in the back seat. They drove to the stockade, where they brought him inside for processing. They booked him and placed him in a holding cell. It approached 0900 and he still hadn’t had breakfast. Jeff did push-ups and sit-ups to tire himself out, then laid down on the cell’s bunk. There was nothing to do but wait.

What the FUCKING HELL?

Jeff reviewed his seven months at Fort Bragg, trying to remember something that could have landed him in the stockade. He couldn’t think of anything; no one in authority spoke so much as a cross word to him since Jaeckel’s little test his first day. They’d taken his watch during booking, and there was no clock he could see. Jeff didn’t know how long he’d been in the cell when he drifted off to sleep.

The clank of the lock turning in the heavy door woke Jeff. It took a moment to get his bearings, but he soon remembered where he was. Two MPs stepped through the door.

“Private, stand up, face the far wall and put your hands behind your back.” Jeff complied immediately. They handcuffed him again. “Your lawyer’s here. Let’s go.”

The two MPs led Jeff to a small meeting room where they uncuffed him and told him to enter. Jeff snapped to attention upon seeing the JAG captain waiting for him.

“Private Knox? I’m Captain Willoughby.” She sported a 18th Airborne Corps patch on her uniform as well as jump wings.

“Good morning, Ma’am!” Jeff barked.

“At ease, Private. Have a seat. We have much to discuss.” Jeff complied right away, sitting across from his attorney. “Private, the Corps Judge Advocate General’s office has assigned me to be your counsel in this matter. Do you have any objections to that?” Jeff was puzzled.

“No, Ma’am?”

“You’d be surprised how often people object to a woman as their counsel.”

“That seems a little stupid, Ma’am.”

“I agree. Let’s get to the matter at hand, shall we? The Government alleges you took part in a robbery on the night of 04 June and planned it as well. They have charged you with theft of Government property, receiving stolen Government property, breaking and entering into a Government warehouse, and conspiracy to commit said theft.”

Jeff’s head, which had already been spinning, spun harder. The captain was forced to get his attention because he took so long to process that information.

“Sorry, Ma’am.”

“It’s a lot to take in all at once, Private; don’t worry about it. I’ve been reviewing your 201 file, and this doesn’t line up with what I’ve read. Your record is spotless.”

“This is not who I am, Ma’am. I had no part in what I’m being accused of.”

“Let’s put aside the current charges for the moment. Talk to me about your career so far.”

Captain Willoughby led him through every minute detail of his career since he arrived at Fort Benning’s reception center last year. She went back and forth through his tenure at Fort Bragg. They’d been at it for some time when Jeff closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Private? Are you alright?”

“My apologies, Ma’am. A headache is all. I haven’t eaten yet today.”

“WHAT?”

“I haven’t eaten this morning, Ma’am. I was arrested as my roommate and I were headed to breakfast after PT.” The captain’s face set into a fierce scowl. She sprang from her chair and pounded on the door.

“GUARD!” The door opened immediately.

“Yes, Ma’am?” the guard asked.

“Specialist, you will get my client a meal immediately. He was arrested before breakfast and has been held here since. It is now almost 1600 hours and he has not eaten today. There had better be a meal here in under fifteen minutes. Do make myself clear, Specialist?”

“Yes, Ma’am!”

“Make it a sizable one. Move, Specialist!”

“Yes, Ma’am!” the MP repeated. The door swung shut, locking as it closed. Jeff heard the specialist walk quickly down the hall.

“Private, do you wish to wait until they bring you something?”

“If we could, Ma’am? I can’t think straight at the moment.” The specialist returned with a wrapped granola bar two minutes later.

“There’s a tray coming for your client on the double, Ma’am. Staff Sergeant Jennings directed me to offer this granola bar to Private Knox in the meantime.” The captain just nodded, the scowl still plain on her face.

“Thank you, Specialist,” Jeff said as the other man handed him the bar. The MP nodded and left the room. Jeff tried to eat slowly so he wouldn’t look like a ravenous animal to the captain.

“I’m surprised you took the time to unwrap it, Private. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat that fast.”

“My parents tell me that meals last twice as long and cost half as much now that I’m out of the house, Ma’am.” Captain Willoughby laughed; her parents said the same thing when her brothers moved out.

Jeff’s tray arrived ten minutes later. They provided him a double-portion of lasagna, a small salad, bread, Jell-O and two cartons of milk; all of that disappeared in twenty minutes. He was glad he could eat the meal with a spoon because that was the only utensil with it.

“Do you need a nap now, Private?” the captain joked.

“Sorry, Ma’am. I guess I was a little hungry.”

“I’d hate to see it when you’re really hungry.”

“Just stay clear of the intake, Ma’am, and you’ll be safe.” The captain laughed again. The food cleared Jeff’s head. “Ma’am, they’re alleging that I was part of the actual theft, is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And the theft was last weekend?”

“Yes.” Jeff smiled.

“Ma’am, would it help if I could produce a solid alibi?”

“Of course.”

“I was seven hundred miles from here last weekend, Ma’am, in my hometown of Enfield, Massachusetts.” The captain leaned forward.

“You can prove that?”

“Yes, Ma’am. My younger sister graduated high school Saturday the 4th. I was on leave all of last week. I left Bragg at 0600 on 02 June and didn’t return until this past Friday the 10th at 1700.” The captain smiled upon hearing that news.

“I’ll need the names and addresses of people you were with and when you were with them. Can anyone other than your family verify your whereabouts last week?”

“Only about two hundred people, Ma’am. One of those people includes a World War II veteran of the 325th, an officer. I don’t have the gentleman’s address, but I believe I can get it for you. There will be pictures taken by the school photographer as well, Ma’am.”

“Someone’s trying to pin this on you.”

“Yes, Ma’am. It’s all falling into place in my head now. Remember the barracks thief I mentioned?” Willoughby nodded. “Here’s what I’m thinking: My roommate and I found that thief in our room after a training jump in mid-May. The theft last weekend occurred at my company’s supply warehouse. When I arrived at Alpha Company, the supply sergeant there tried giving me a set of LBE so encrusted with mud you could barely tell what it was. I called him on it. When I did, he tried telling me that I’d already signed for it so I was stuck with it.

“The thing was, I hadn’t signed for it. The sergeant told me to sign a receipt as soon as I walked in, before I was ever issued any gear; I’ve been told for years that you don’t sign any receipt until you’ve inspected what you’re signing for. When I pointed out to the sergeant that I hadn’t signed the receipt, he got so red in the face I thought he was going to blow a gasket.

“He snatched that gear back and threw it on the floor. He barked at one of his specialists to bring him another set without taking his eyes off mine; I’ve dealt with bigger bullies than him in the past, so I just stared right back. The specialist brought up another set of LBE and the sergeant slid it in front of me without a word. I counted the equipment issued, signed the receipt, and left. That’s the last time I’ve dealt with him. I think the two are somehow connected.”

“That fat, little...” the captain muttered. “He’s the one trying to hang this one on you! I’ll lay odds that he and this ‘Fingers’ guy are tied in with each other! When you disrupted his supply chain, the sergeant started to plot his revenge! I’m going to hang him by his short and curlies!” Jeff winced.

“That’s one hell of a visual, Ma’am.”

“My first priority is to make sure that you, my client, do not suffer from this.”

“The word ‘expunged’ keeps coming to mind, Ma’am.”

“That’s a good word. Any interest in becoming a lawyer? That was some good thinking there.”

“No offense, Ma’am, but I’d rather go back to my high school and have the soccer team kick balls at my head. For an hour.”

“None taken, Private,” she chuckled. “When was that training jump? The one when you caught Fingers?”