SILENT GUNS (4 page)

“
Lt. Peavey, did you advise
Commander Trent?” Captain Robinson, a Board member, asked
pointedly.

“
No one on watch reported we were
off course, sir”

“
Lt. Peavey, did you at any time
call for a bearing check?”

“
Yes, Sir, as a normal precaution,
but visibility was down to less than an eighth of a mile. I could
not verify sightings. Further, no warning came from
CIC.”

“
Was CIC called to
report?

“
I don’t know, sir,” Peavey
replied.

“
Were you surprised when you
encountered the destroyer inbound in the channel?” a Military Judge
intervened.

“
Terrified, sir, would be a better
term,” Peavey said. “She wasn’t expected to be there until after we
cleared the channel.”

“
On whose counsel?”

“
The Commander’s, sir.”

The clock had slowly turned to 1500. President
Carter announced, “The media have deadlines to meet. The court is
recessed until Monday morning at 0900.” He rapped his gavel: the
crowd quickly filed out.

Johnson leaned over, “Commander, right or wrong,
Denton will be unmerciful.”

“
I’m well aware of that,
Lieutenant.”

“
I’m still pissed off. He didn’t
tell me he was going to prosecute,”

“
He didn’t scare you
off?”

“
No. But, my irritation may not be
in your best interest.”

“
Then, we have something in
common. I’m being railroaded and I don’t know why. I’m not a
lawyer, but deliberate lies were told in this courtroom today.” He
turned to Johnson, “Don’t forget, I’m the one with the most to
lose.”

Trent eased back and reflected on past events.
Proust had chewed out Burns just two days before the collision for
missing the
Missouri
’s approach to Norfolk by a mile. Proust
was furious at the mistake. He said Burns’ error would have put the
ship on the beach in a fog. But, the morning of the collision,
Proust had to have approved Burn’s bearing change. And, he followed
Burn’s bearings to a degree – but they were incorrect and Burns
denied culpability. Proust knew this, yet he said nothing. Denton
told him to stay silent, he was certain. True, Burns did brief him
that two destroyers would be inbound from ASW training and would
enter the channel at 0500. He said nothing about the cruiser.
Proust must have known this too. This new knowledge did nothing to
comfort him, but instead left him vaguely angry. Trent twisted
uneasily in his chair. Proust was contrived evasiveness. Denton
elicited falsehoods and twisted the truth. Burns deliberately
lied—but why? Burns has no reason to hate me.” Trent pondered again
and again. Slowly, but surely, with Denton’s skillful handling of
his witnesses, he realized his demise was foretold. The prosecutor,
with malice, was working his destruction. He had the distinct
impression that everything had been carefully planned
beforehand.

~ * * * ~

CHAPTER 4

At precisely 0900 Monday the court reconvened. The
trial droned on, one day rolled over into the next, each day a
monotonous repetition of the last. Trent heard voices, but he left
them in the bluster. A heavy rain and blustery winds that dashed
the courthouse offered a respite. Johnson was looking stiff and
uneasy; he was calming himself by rehearsing. He rose to address
the court. In a formal tone, he began his concluding remarks.

“
Members of the Court. Commander
Trent is himself a victim. A victim of miss-statement, inaccurate
information, poor communications and, it appears from conflicting
testimony offered to this court, of falsification and outright
lies. His record is unblemished. Commander Trent emerges as a
dedicated, hard-working, conscientious naval officer. His
ship-handling, considering the circumstances and the information
provided to him by the witnesses, was not only sensible and sound,
but exemplary under the circumstances. I trust the Court will not
find it in its heart to crucify this officer to satisfy the
cravings of the media, the public, and certainly not, the United
States Navy.”

The court recessed.

The audience grew restless in the stifling hot,
stuffy Virginia courtroom. Not a breath of air stirred. The media
people waited, eyed each other and glanced at their watches. Press
deadlines approached and passed. No one left. At precisely 2000,
two doors opened and members of the Court filed in. Conversation
died to a murmur, then silence.

“
Please rise,” the master-at-arms
ordered.

The audience rose and the court members were seated.
Lt. Johnson shook Trent’s elbow. The courtroom noise rose again to
a low hum. Captain Carter rose; he appeared cool and relaxed, his
tall figure markedly straight, marred by a definite paunch. He
spoke quietly of the seriousness of the offense…of lives
lost…destruction of public property…inattention to duty…the
Executive officer in command…fairness and justice in bringing the
trial to a quick conclusion…the recitation was endless and in the
end…

…”
We find Commander Anthony A.
Trent culpably inefficient in the performance of his duties. Guilty
of the charge of hazarding a vessel of the United States
Navy.”

* * *

“
A long, winded story, heh!
Simons. And my penance! I was reduced a grade, dropped 200
positions on the seniority list, and banned forever from sea
command. To add insult to injury, re-assigned to a non-essential
desk job at a reserve district in Louisiana.”

“
It helps explain your empathy for
Newby,” Simons commented. “Peas in a pod.”

He glanced coolly at Simons, “A court martial puts a
man in the limelight, grabs headlines. To a fortunate few, a less
tedious means to advancement, provided one is found innocent. There
is something to be said for notoriety, good or bad. Unfortunately,
for the guilty, the stigma sticks, follows you everywhere, like a
bad smell, for the rest of your life.” He added with swelling
bitterness, “Guilty dashes your hopes and dreams, it devastates
everything in its path.”

“
Your world didn’t end,” Simons
chided. “You are alive: you are a free man.”

“
Not in my own mind. I could
accept my guilt. But, not being made the ‘fall guy.’ For those
truly guilty who aided and abetted in my demise, to escape without
consequences, they cannot be forgiven.” Trent looked away, feeling
that rising helplessness again, yet unable to control it. He
drifted back in time and said no more.

Simons broke his reverie, “So after two years, a
hateful, bitter, and broken man resigned from the Navy and swore
revenge. Just like that.”

“
Just like that,” Trent
parroted.

“
So, what does an ex-Navy officer
do when he is depressed, down on himself and out of a
job?”

“
And shunned. I was rescued by an
old friend, Admiral Farr.”

“
A Navy job?”

“
Not a chance. Farr’s eldest son
was CEO of International Traders, Inc. out of Seattle. The Admiral
gave him a sales talk and he took me on. The job got me out of
Norfolk and out of the country to places where I was unknown. After
seven years, Anthony A. Trent, Senior-vice-president, Sales and
Contracts, was gold-embossed on a solid walnut door.”

“
And Peter Madden?” Simons
asked.

Trent sat quietly for a long time. “Madden was the
first to come aboard,” he said. “Peter lived in Seattle. We go back
to the Korean War. I had charge of a 5-inch gun crew on board the
cruiser
Juneau
. We took a direct hit. Ready service
ammunition exploded; flying fragments cut the cartridge cases of
the star shells in the fuse pots causing them to burn ‘like Roman
candles.’ Madden dragged away two badly burned gunners. I saw to it
he received the Navy Cross for bravery. He has the burn scars as
proof. When I was assigned to the
Missouri
as XO, I ordered
his transfer.”

“
Peter Madden was as easygoing and
as even-tempered as they come. His temper belied his flaming red
hair with only a faint daubing of gray. His broken and craggy
features were a mirror-cast of a New Hampshire shattered rock
formation. His limbs were as thick as tree trunks with oversized,
calloused hands in proportion to his medium-height and stocky
build. He worked at the Todd Shipyard, as had his grandfather and
father. A jack-of-all-trades, I knew I needed Madden. A master
around iron and steel, retired from the Navy as a master chief
bosun’s mate. The bond between us had long been sealed. Madden was
loyal to a fault.”

* * *

Madden picked Trent up at arrivals at Sea-Tac
airport. “How was Saudi Arabia?”

“
Hot and dusty.”

“
How’s Ingrid?”

“
Fine.” They lived together. She
cared for his mother and he had a place to sleep. She never asked
where he disappeared to for days. He paid the bills and each
tacitly accepted the partnership.

“
How are things at
Todd?”

“
Busy. I’ll be working there
forever, just like my old man until he keeled over,” Madden
chuckled. “I’m satisfied. A guy’s gotta keep busy; a rocking chair
is not for me.” The car swerved wildly. “Crazy drivers, these
kids,” Madden exclaimed, as he centered the wheel and carried on
the conversation. “You haven’t heard a damn word I’ve said in the
last ten minutes, have you? Something bugging you?”

“
No. Nothing, just a wild idea,”
Trent turned and stared out the side window. Madden cleared his
throat impatiently, “Guess where I was last week?”

“
No idea.”

“
Some shipmates off the
Chicago
held a reunion. I got this invite about a month ago.
They said they really dug back to find my name. There ain’t too
many of us left, you know.”

“
Have a good turnout?”

“
Forty guys showed up. Newby
arranged the whole thing. He got us into the Yard and aboard the
Chicago
, mothballed for years. We climbed all over her like
a bunch of kid sailors playing war-games. I hadn’t seen Newby since
last summer. Sez he’s gonna retire soon; but, he’s not keen on the
idea. I guess he’s being pushed out,” Madden recounted. “The guys
missed the times together, the action - it was unanimous. The best
years of their lives, they said. Maybe it was the excitement, I
don’t know, maybe the danger, risking their lives for a cause. No
one remembered fearing death, only sorrow in the death of a buddy.
Imagine, guys living off old memories all these years.” Madden
coughed, something had caught in his throat. “We drank to the war
and toasted the dead.”

“
Do you miss the action, Peter?”
Trent asked.

“
Life ain’t never been the same
since I got out. Eat. Work. Screw. Sleep. And, then do it again:
but, I guess that’s life.” Somewhat puzzled at his own words,
Madden floored the gas pedal and the car accelerated onto
I-5.

“
If you could go back to those
times, would you?”

“
Jesus! What a question,” Madden
replied. “That’s a joke. An old fart like me! All the Navy wants
now a days are young kids for them new-fangled computers. Just push
buttons. That’s all they are good for. Never do a man’s work
anymore,” his voice trailed off.

“
So, would you?” Trent asked
again, calmly.

“
Would I what?”

“
If you could get back into
action, would you?”

“
Slow up there, old shipmate,”
Madden implored. He raised his hand, as would a cop stopping
traffic. “You’re moving too fast for my feeble brain and getting me
all twisted up. There ain’t no war on, you know.”

Madden exited the freeway, slowed, then inched
forward to the second side street, made a sharp right turn. Office
buildings gave way to storefronts, which in turn gave way to
high-rise apartment complexes. Jamming on the brakes, he skidded
and honked. The black limo sped off.

“
Damn rich people. They don’t care
how they drive.”

“
If you had their money, you’d do
the same thing.”

“
Flaunt it! Ha! Not me,” Madden
cursed as he pulled up to the curb. “You’re home.”

“
Welcome home, Mr. Trent.” Ed, the
doorman, grabbed his bags and carried them to the apartment
elevator.

Trent said, “Peter, you need some cheering up. Take
tomorrow off and go over to the Navy Yard with me?”

Madden tossed Trent a quizzical look, “You haven’t
been aboard a ship – not even a rowboat – since you know -
resigned. Is this some sort of a gag? You have to take a ferryboat
to get there, you know,” Madden guffawed softly. “What’s the
deal?”

“
Getting soft,” Trent
replied.

“
That’s new. One mention of the
Navy and you screw up tight,” Madden said, eyeing Trent
suspiciously.

“
Newby has arranged to get us
aboard the
Missouri
.”

“
And, that’s going to make
everything better?”

“
It can’t get any
worse.”

“
The pain is still there down
deep, ain’t it?”

“
It burns and tears and won’t go
away.”

“
Maybe, going aboard will only
make it worse,” Madden said.