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 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 your choice of civilian counsel at your own expense. You may request a lawyer at any time during an interview. Do you understand your rights, Private?”

“Yes, Sergeant. At this time, I wish to request the presence of military counsel before 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 immediately requesting a lawyer and then keeping his mouth shut.

“Very well.” The sergeant raised his radio. “Bravo Zero-Three, Uniform Zero-Six, suspect in custody. Suspect requests presence of JAG before 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 after him as the MPs led him away.

His squad-mates stared in disbelief from their doorways as they watched Jeff escorted down the hall in cuffs. Jeff’s cheeks burned from embarrassment and anger.

’What the HELL?’

Sergeant Tyler stood in the lobby next to the CQ desk by the time the group 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, and 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 and then laid down on the cell’s bunk. There was nothing to do but wait.

’What the frikken HELL?’

Jeff reviewed his seven months at Fort Bragg over and over, trying to remember anything that could have caused him to land in the stockade. He couldn’t think of anything. He hadn’t had so much as an angry word spoken to him by anyone in authority since Jaeckel’s little test on his first day. They took 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 removed the cuffs and motioned him inside. Jeff snapped to attention upon seeing the JAG captain waiting for him.

“Private Knox? I’m Captain Willoughby.” She sported an 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, I’ve been assigned by the Corps Judge Advocate General’s office as 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 that you took part in a robbery on the night of zero-four June and planned it as well. They are charging 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 two-oh-one 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 was arrested as my roommate and I headed to breakfast after PT this morning, Ma’am. I haven’t eaten.”

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 sixteen hundred 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 dart 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 ordered 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 have told 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 with 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 they gave him.

“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.”

“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, in my hometown of Enfield, Massachusetts last weekend, Ma’am.”

The captain leaned forward. “You can prove that?”

“Yes, Ma’am. My younger sister graduated high school on Saturday the fourth. I was on leave all of last week. I left Bragg at oh-six-hundred, on zero-two June and didn’t return until this past Friday the tenth, at seventeen-hundred.”

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 the pictures the school photographer took 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 in-processed 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 and 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 I was 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 plotting 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 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, but I think ‘exonerated’ will be a better one. 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?”

“I’m afraid you’d have to check with Alpha Company on that one, Ma’am. I don’t remember the exact date. It was the same day they arrested Fingers.”

“I think we’re getting ready to hit the other side right between their eyes with a two-by-four.”

“What about the conspiracy charge, Ma’am?”

“Hearsay at best. I’ll have to see what they have for evidence when they disclose their case to me.”

“What will this do to my promotion and Good Conduct status, Ma’am?”

“Nothing, if I have anything to say about it. I’m going on a little trip. Don’t talk to anyone about any of this. Capice?”

Jeff endured ten more days of confinement. The court held his pre-trial hearing on the Thursday after his arrest; it was all over five minutes after it started. The court-martial was scheduled to begin in two months.

Pressure from Jeff’s chain of command and a motion to dismiss from Captain Willoughby saw her before the assigned judge on the morning of Monday the 27th, however.

“Your Honor, defense moves to have this case dismissed,” she said once in the colonel’s office.

“On what grounds, Captain?”

“Sir, my client was not on base when the theft occurred. I have affidavits from over thirty people, including a World War II veteran of my client’s division, that my client was in Enfield, Massachusetts from zero-two to zero-nine June. I have character references for my client there for you as well, Your Honor.”

Captain Willoughby stepped forward and handed the colonel a stack of papers. The man looked the stack over. The captain flew to Massachusetts last week and collected every affidavit herself. The chief of the Enfield, Massachusetts Police Department sent along a personal character reference for the accused. One of the department’s patrolmen, a man who worked out with the accused for two years and someone who’d known the accused since 1983, sent one as well. The stack of character references was as thick as the stack of affidavits. The stack of papers did not match the picture the prosecution had painted of the accused. The colonel looked over at the opposing counsel.

“Also, Sir, the prosecution’s case is almost entirely based on the word of the two likely architects of the theft. I believe the same two are also behind this attempt to ruin my client’s record and reputation. John Flaherty, also known as ‘Fingers’ Flaherty, was caught ransacking my client’s barracks room. The MPs found items taken from other rooms in the same barracks in a bag he carried at the time of his arrest.”

“Staff Sergeant Terrance Wendell, the company supply sergeant, harbors a grudge against my client. He couldn’t stick Private Knox with a set of load-bearing equipment disguised as a ball of mud when Knox drew his equipment last December. Private Knox upset Wendell and Wendell wants revenge.”

“My client’s whereabouts are accounted for on every one of the dates of alleged planning meetings for the theft. As I’ve demonstrated, my client wasn’t even in this state on the date of the theft. PFC Flaherty was in custody when he says my client spoke with him; the MPs have no record of my client even entering the stockade between Flaherty’s arrest and his.”

“My esteemed colleague Captain Davis has no hard evidence against my client. No video, no audio, and no writings that can be attributed to Private Knox. What Captain Davis does have is a reinforced brigade’s worth of very pissed-off people in the Private’s hometown. They are livid that he is being railroaded like this. They were practically lining up buses to come down here and storm the base! If there’s another person on this installation who is held in such high regard by the people who know them, I challenge the prosecution to produce that person.”

The colonel listened to Captain Willoughby’s speech and weighed her words along with the papers he held in his hands.

“Captain Davis, are you sure you want to proceed with this case? I’m looking at a certified copy of the accused’s leave orders. I’m looking at over thirty affidavits that the accused was seven hundred miles from here on the night in question. I’m looking at a similar number of character references. Letters from two members of his hometown police department, one of which came from the chief of that department. I see fuel receipts from the drive up and back, and restaurant receipts from up and down the coast.”

“What I don’t see is any evidence Private Knox was involved in any way. All I see in evidence are statements from Sergeant Wendell and PFC Flaherty, and their personal character is more than in question at the moment.”

“Do you think you may have jumped the gun by filing charges against this young man? Do you think you might have this one wrong?” The colonel stared at the prosecutor.

Captain Davis swallowed as he looked over the stack of documents.

“I might have at that, Colonel,” the man admitted. “I agree with the defense’s motion, Sir. I too request the charges against Private Knox be dismissed. I further recommend they be dismissed with prejudice.”

“So ordered. The case of The United States vs. Knox is dismissed with prejudice. The matter is to be expunged from Private Knox’s record and no further action will be taken against him. There will be no loss of pay or rank, no loss of promotion or Good Conduct status. He is due all appropriate leave accrual.” The colonel picked up the phone on his desk.

“Sergeant Biggs? Call the 503rd MP Battalion. Private Knox is cleared of all charges. They are to bring him and his belongings to my office; he is no longer a prisoner. Understood? Carry on, Sergeant.”

Fifteen minutes later, a bewildered Jeff Knox stepped into the colonel’s office. He marched to the front of the colonel’s desk and stood at attention, ramrod straight.

“Sir, Private Knox reports!”

“At ease. Private, the case against you has been dismissed with prejudice. That means the Government cannot take any more action against you in this matter. There will be nothing in your file to indicate any action was ever brought against you in this matter, nor will there be any record of possible involvement in the matter itself. There will be no loss of leave, pay, rank, or any other negative consequences. You will be taken back to your barracks. You will be given the day off. I’ll square it with your brigade commander.”

The stress of the past two weeks drained from Jeff, leaving him exhausted. He looked at Captain Willoughby with relief. She nodded at him, smiling. Her counterpart from the JAG office looked apologetic.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Captain Willoughby, Sergeant Biggs will have paperwork for your client. That’ll be all, people. Captain Willoughby, Private Knox, you’re dismissed. Captain Davis? A moment, if you would?”

“All the way, Sir!” Jeff and his lawyer said before filing out of the colonel’s office.

Jeff stood next to Captain Willoughby while she collected his paperwork from Sergeant Biggs. He was numb but he was out of the cell and faced no charges.

“There are three copies there, Ma’am,” Sergeant Biggs told his lawyer. “Let me know if you need any more.”

“Efficient as always, Sergeant Biggs, thank you. Private Knox, you ready to go?”

“Uh, yes, Ma’am. Thank you, Sergeant.”

“You bet, Private. Don’t let me catch you around here again,” the sergeant joked.

Jeff nodded and followed Captain Willoughby out of the office. She led him out of the building, one he hoped he’d never be near again. He stopped outside the front door and looked up at the clear, blue sky.

“It’s true, Private,” the captain said. She’d seen other clients do the same.

“I’ve been trying to stay positive, Ma’am, but there were times ... can we get out of here, Ma’am?”

“Absolutely. We’re over here.”

Captain Willoughby pointed to the side parking lot where her car was. He was still in shock when they pulled up to the Alpha Company barracks for the 1st Battalion of the 504th Parachute Infantry Regiment. He remembered nothing of the drive.

“All right, Private, here you are. As Sergeant Biggs said, don’t let me run into you again.”

“Ma’am, I don’t know how to say thank you...”

“You just did, Private Knox.” She held out her hand. “Good luck to you.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

Jeff climbed out of the car and made sure his beret was in place. He retrieved his belongings from her back seat. He saluted the captain from the sidewalk; she returned it and drove off. Jeff turned and looked at his barracks. He’d never been so happy to see it in the seven months he’d been stationed here. He strode to the building and pulled open the door.

“Professor!”

“Hey, Shark Man. How’s business?”

Shark Man was CPL Bill Nolan; he was the barracks loanshark and today’s CQ. Ken and Jeff were on good terms with him because they never needed his services.

“The hell with that, how are you?”

“Free and clear, Shark Man. Free and clear. There’ll be nothing in my two-oh-one, either.”

“Outstanding, Jeff! The brigade office called, and you’ve got the next two days off the duty roster. You’re in the clear until Thursday morning. They’ll fax the orders over to the company office in a few minutes.”

Jeff nodded, covering a yawn. “I’m exhausted, Bill. I’m gonna go crash. What’s Third Squad up to today?”

“The whole company’s at the range.”

“Figures. I like Range Days.”

“Go get some sleep, Jeff. You want me to wake you for lunch?”

“Only if you want to go on sick call, Bill.”

“Okay,” he laughed. “No wake-up call. Take it easy, Professor.”

Jeff waved and headed upstairs. He unlocked his door, dropped his belongings in the bottom of his closet, and collapsed on the bunk.

“Jeff? Jeff? Out of the rack, Airborne! It’s time for chow!”

“Nolan, I told you you’d be on sick call if you woke me up,” Jeff muttered, still face-down in the pillow.

“Since when does Shark Man speak Japanese, Round-Eye?”

Jeff rolled over to see Ken grinning down at him. He glanced at his alarm clock. It was 1745.

“Shit, I slept all day?”

“Looks like it,” Ken confirmed as Jeff sat up. “Your uniform looks like it, too.”

Jeff looked down to see a solid mass of wrinkles. “Ugh. Let me run through the shower and we’ll get out of here.”

Jeff stripped off the uniform he’d worn since his arrest. He grabbed his shower stuff and hustled through the shower in the latrine. The friends left their room ten minutes after Jeff woke. This time, no MPs were waiting for him.

The squad raised a cheer when he and Ken entered the dining facility for chow. They quickly learned that Nolan hadn’t been lying to them, that Jeff had been cleared of all charges. Staff Sergeant Tyler shook his hand. SFC Hantula and 2LT Cherrington came over to welcome him back to the platoon. Even CPT Hardesty, his company’s CO, came by to welcome him back.

Ken and Jeff prepared for lights-out three hours later. They turned out the room’s lights and crawled into their respective bunks. Jeff lay awake, staring at the ceiling.

“Hey, Jeff?”

“Yeah?”

“Welcome back.”

“Thanks, man. I was trying to stay positive in there. Like I told my JAG lawyer though, some days got pretty bleak.”

“You told me it’s over, though. The judge made sure they can’t come after you again. I’ve heard the Captain won’t let this affect your promotion status. He’d made up his mind on that even before he saw there was nothing in your file about the past two weeks.”

“It’s strange. I doubt I’ll forget what happened, but with no record of it, it’s like it never did. I’m just glad it’s over.”

“There’s one positive that came out of it, though.”

“There’s a positive? What?”

“Jeff, we’ve been speaking Japanese this whole time.” Ken was right. “When I woke you up, we were speaking Japanese. We’ve been speaking Japanese since we left the DFAC to come back here. I’d say you’re done with learning Japanese.”