The Caine Mutiny

by Herman Wouk

  “Mr. Keith, did Captain Queeg ever use physical torture on officers or men?”

  “No.”

  “Did he starve them, beat them, or in any way cause anybody injury that will appear in the medical records of the Caine?”

  “No.”

  “Did he ever issue punishments not allowed by regulations?”

  “He never did anything not allowed by regulations, or if he did he backtracked immediately. He demonstrated how much can be done to oppress and maltreat within regulations.”

  “You didn’t like Captain Queeg, did you, Lieutenant?”

  “I did at first, very much. But I gradually realized that he was a petty tyrant and utterly incompetent.”

  “Did you think he was insane too?”

  “Not until the day of the typhoon.”

  “Did Maryk ever show you his medical log on Queeg?”

  “No.”

  “Did he ever discuss the captain’s medical condition with you?”

  “No. Mr. Maryk never permitted criticism of the captain in his presence.”

  “What! Despite the insubordination back in December ’43?”

  “He would walk out of the wardroom if anything derogatory was said of the captain.”

  “There were derogatory remarks about the captain in the wardroom? Who uttered them?”

  “Every officer except Maryk.”

  “Would you say that Captain Queeg had a loyal wardroom of officers?”

  “All his orders were carried out.”

  “Except those you thought ought to be circumvented. ... Mr. Keith, you have stated you disliked the captain.”

  “That is the truth.”

  “Come to the morning of 18 December. Was your decision to obey Maryk based on your judgment that the captain had gone mad, or was it based on your dislike of Captain Queeg?”

  Willie stared for long seconds at Challee’s livid face. There were sharp steel teeth in the question. Willie knew what the true answer was; and he knew that it would probably destroy himself and Maryk. But he felt unable to carry off a lie. “I can’t answer,” he said at last, in a low voice.

  “On what grounds, Lieutenant Keith?”

  “Must I state grounds?”

  “It is contempt of court to refuse to answer a question except on sufficient grounds, Lieutenant Keith.”

  Willie said thickly, “I’m not sure. I just don’t remember my state of mind that long ago.”

  “No more questions,” said Challee: He turned on his heel and sat down.

  Willie was absolutely certain, in that instant, staring at the surgically cold faces of the court, that he had convicted Maryk and himself with his own mouth. He shook with boiling impotent rage at the flummery of court routine which prevented him from breaking out and shouting his self-justification; and at the same time he realized that he could never quite justify himself in the Navy’s eyes. In plain truth, he had obeyed Maryk for two reasons, first, because he thought the exec was more likely to save the ship, and second, because he hated Queeg. It had never occurred to him, until Maryk took command, that Queeg might be really insane. And he knew, deep down, that he never had believed the captain was crazy. Stupid, mean, vicious, cowardly, incompetent, yes-but sane. The insanity of Queeg was Maryk’s only possible plea (and Willie’s too); and it was a false plea; and Challee knew it, and the court knew it; and now Willie knew it.

  Greenwald rose to cross-examine. “Mr. Keith, you have stated you disliked Captain Queeg.”

  “I did dislike him.”

  “Did you state under direct examination all your reasons for disliking him?”

  “Not at all. I wasn’t given the chance to state half the reasons.”

  “Please state the rest of your reasons, now, if you will.”

  Words formed in Willie’s mind which, he knew, would change the course of several lives and land him in trouble from which he might never extricate himself. He spoke; it was like punching his fist through a glass door. “My chief reason for disliking Captain Queeg was his cowardice in battle.”

  Challee started getting to his feet. Greenwald said quickly, “What cowardice?”

  “He repeatedly ran from shore batteries-”

  “Objection!” shouted the judge advocate. “Counsel is originating evidence beyond the scope of direct examination. He is leading the witness into irresponsible libels of an officer of the Navy. I request that the court admonish defense counsel and strike the cross-examination thus far from the record.”

  “Please the court,” said Greenwald, facing into Blakely’s glare, “the witness’s dislike of Queeg was not only in the scope of the direct examination, it was the key fact brought out. The background of this dislike is of the utmost consequence. The witness has confessed ignorance of medicine and psychiatry. Things Queeg did, which caused the witness in his ignorance to dislike him, may in fact have been the helpless acts of a sick man. Defense will present material corroboration of all statements of the witness in this connection, and will in fact show that Queeg’s acts stemmed from illness-”

  Challee flared at Greenwald, “This is not the time for defense to present its case or make a closing argument-”

  “The judge advocate has opened the question of Lieutenant Keith’s admitted dislike of Captain Queeg,” Greenwald shot back. “Evidence is tested as it arises-”

  Blakely rapped his gavel. “Defense counsel and the judge advocate are admonished for unseemly personal exchanges. The court will be cleared.”

  When the parties of the trial came back into the room, Blakely had a copy of Navy Regulations open before him on the bench. He wore thick black-rimmed glasses which gave him an oddly peaceful professorial look. “For the benefit of all parties, court will read from Article 4, Sections 13 and 14 of the Articles for the Government of the Navy, before announcing its ruling.

  “The punishment of death, or such other punishment as a court-martial may adjudge, may be inflicted on any person in the naval service, who, in time of battle, displays cowardice, negligence, or disaffection, or withdraws from or keeps out of danger to which he should expose himself ... or in time of battle, deserts his duty or station, or induces others to do so.”

  Blakely took off his glasses and closed the book. He went on in a grave, tired tone, “The court has said this is a delicate case. Defense counsel and the witness are warned that they are on the most dangerous possible ground. In charging an officer of the United States Navy with an offense punishable by death, and that the most odious offense in military life, equal to murder, they take on themselves the heaviest responsibility, and face consequences the seriousness of which cannot be overstated. The court now asks defense counsel in view of the foregoing whether he desires to withdraw his questions.”

  Greenwald said, “I do not so desire, sir.”

  “The court asks the witness to consider carefully the implications of his answers and state whether he desires to withdraw his answers.”

  Willie, his teeth chattering a little, said, “I do not so desire, sir.”

  “Subject to the foregoing,” said Blakely, with an audible sigh, pushing aside the book, “the objection is overruled. Defense counsel will proceed with his cross-examination.”

  Willie told about Queeg’s running from the Saipan shore battery which had fired on the Stanfield. He narrated in detail the episode at Kwajalein which had resulted in Queeg’s being nicknamed “Old Yellowstain.” He saw for the first time a change in the expressions of the court as he spoke. The frigid solemnity with which they had peered at him gave way slowly, and instead there were seven faces of men listening with interest to an amazing tale. Challee, frowning bitterly, scribbled pages of notes.

  “Mr. Keith, who coined this name, ‘Old Yellowstain’?” said Greenwald.

  “I’m not sure, sir. It just sprang into existence.”

  “What did it imply?”

  “Well, cowardice, of course. But it also referred to the yellow marker. It was one of those naturals. It stuck.”<
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  “Have you told all the incidents of cowardice that you recall?”

  “Well, in any combat situation Captain Queeg inevitably would be found on the side of the bridge away from the firing. When we were patrolling near a beach, every time the ship reversed course the captain changed wings. Everyone noticed it. It was a common joke. All the bridge personnel will corroborate what I say, if they’re not afraid to talk.”

  Greenwald said, “Besides these incidents of cowardice, what further reasons had you for disliking Queeg?”

  “Well-I guess I’ve told the characteristic ones-well, for one thing, he extorted a hundred dollars from me-”

  Challee stood wearily. “Objection. How long will these irrelevant unproven allegations be permitted by the court? The issue in this case is not whether Captain Queeg was a model officer, but whether he was insane on 18 December. Defense counsel has not even touched this issue. I suggest there is strong indication of collusion between defense counsel and witness to recklessly smear Commander Queeg and thus confuse the issue-”

  Greenwald said, “The objection is identical with the last one court overruled. I repudiate the charge of collusion. Facts are facts, and need no collusion to be brought out. All these facts bear directly on the mental fitness of Captain Queeg to command a naval vessel, and as evidence they are nothing but clarification of Keith’s dislike of his commanding officer, a fact established by the judge advocate at great pains in direct examination.”

  “The objection is identical,” said Blakely, rubbing his eyes, “and it is overruled. Proceed with cross-examination.”

  “Describe this so-called extortion, Mr. Keith.”

  Willie told of the loss of the crate of liquor in San Francisco Bay. Captain Blakely began grimacing horribly. Greenwald said, “Did the captain order you to pay for the liquor?”

  “Oh, no. He didn’t order me. He made me admit that I was responsible for all acts of the working party because I was boat officer-although he had issued all the orders to the working party-and then he asked me to think over what I ought to do about it. That was all. But I was supposed to go on leave next day. My fiancée had flown out from New York to be with me. So I went to the captain. I apologized for my stupidity, and said I’d like to pay for the liquor. He took my money gladly, and signed my leave papers.”

  “No further questions,” Greenwald said, and went to his seat. He felt a powerful grip on his knee under the table. He quickly sketched a revolting cross-eyed pig in a steaming cauldron, labeled it “Queeg,” showed it to Maryk, and shredded it into the wastebasket.

  Challee re-examined Willie for twenty minutes, probing for contradictions and misstatements in his stories about Queeg; he got off a great deal of sarcasm at Willie’s expense, but he did not manage to shake the testimony.

  Willie looked at the clock as he left the stand. It was ten minutes of eleven. He was amazed, just as he had been on the morning of the typhoon, by the slow passage of time. He imagined he had been in the witness chair for four hours.

  Challee called Captain Randolph P. Southard, a dapper, lean officer with a hard-bitten face and close-cropped head, whose ribbons and medals made three colorful rows over his breast pocket. The judge advocate quickly brought out that Southard was the commander of Destroyer Squadron Eight, and had commanded destroyers of several types, including World War I four-pipers, for ten years. He was Challee’s expert witness on ship handling.

  Southard testified that under typhoon conditions a destroyer rode just as well going down-wind as up-wind. In fact, he said, because of a destroyer’s high freeboard forward it tended to back into the wind. Therefore, if anything, it was more manageable with the wind astern. He asserted that Queeg’s efforts to stay on the fleet’s southerly course had been the soundest possible procedure for getting out of the typhoon danger; and that Maryk’s decision to turn north had been a dubious and dangerous one, because it had kept the ship in the direct path of the storm.

  Greenwald opened his cross-examination by saying, “Captain Southard, have you ever conned a ship through the center of a typhoon?”

  “Negative. Been on the fringes often but always managed to avoid the center.”

  “Have you ever commanded a destroyer-minesweeper, sir?”

  “Negative.”

  “This case, sir, concerns a destroyer-minesweeper at the center of a typhoon-”

  “I’m aware of that,” Southard said frostily. “I’ve had DMS’s under my command in screens, and I’ve read the book on ’em. They don’t differ from destroyers except in details of topside weight characteristics.”

  “I ask these questions, Captain, because you are the only expert witness on ship handling and the extent of your expert knowledge should be clear to the court.”

  “That’s all right. I’ve handled destroyer types in almost every conceivable situation for ten years. Haven’t handled a DMS at the center of a typhoon, no, but I don’t know who has besides the skipper of the Caine. It’s a thousand-to-one shot.”

  “Will you state without reservation that the rules of destroyer handling would hold for a DMS in the center of a typhoon?”

  “Well, at the center of a typhoon there are no hard-and-fast rules. That’s one situation where it’s all up to the commanding officer. Too many strange things happen too fast. But seamanship is seamanship.”

  “A hypothetical question, Captain. Assuming you are conning a destroyer in winds and seas worse than any you have ever experienced. You are wallowing broadside. You actually believe your ship is foundering. You are in the last extremity. Would you try to bring your ship head into wind, or stern to wind?”

  “That’s a mighty hypothetical question.”

  “Yes, sir. Don’t you wish to answer it?”

  “I’ll answer it. In the last extremity I’d head into the wind if I could. Only in the last extremity.”

  “Why, sir?”

  “Why, because your engines and rudder have the best purchase that way, that’s all, and it’s your last chance to keep control of your ship.”

  “But suppose heading into the wind would mean remaining in the path of a storm instead of escaping?”

  “First things first. If you’re on the verge of foundering you’re as bad off as you can get. Mind you, you said the last extremity.”

  “Yes, sir. No further questions.”

  Challee stood at once. “Captain, in your opinion who is the best judge as to whether a ship is in its last extremity?”

  “There is only one judge. The commanding officer.”

  “Why?”

  “The Navy has made him captain because his knowledge of the sea and of ships is better than anyone else’s on the ship. It’s very common for subordinate officers to think the ship is a goner when all they’re going through is a little weather.”

  “Don’t you think, though, sir, that when his subordinates all agree that the ship is going down the captain ought to listen to them?”

  “Negative! Panic is a common hazard at sea. The highest function of command is to override it and to listen to nothing but the voice of his own judgment.”

  “Thank you, Captain.”

  CHAPTER 35

  The Court-Martial-Second Day, Afternoon

  Dr. Forrest Lundeen was a stout, pink-faced commander with gold-rimmed glasses, and straight blond hair fading to gray. He was chief of psychiatry at the Navy hospital, and had headed the medical board which had examined Queeg. He sat comfortably in the witness chair, answering Challee’s questions with good-humored alertness.

  “How long did your examination last, Doctor?”

  “We had the commander under constant observation and testing for three weeks.”

  “Who comprised the board?”

  “Myself, Dr. Bird, and Dr. Manella.”

  “All three practicing psychiatrists?”

  “Dr. Bird and Dr. Manella have been civilian psychiatrists. They are reserve officers. I have specialized in psychiatry in the Navy for fifteen years.”
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  “What was the finding of the board?”

  “Commander Queeg was discharged with a clean bill of health.”

  “No evidence of insanity was found?”

  “None whatever.”

  “Does that mean that Commander Queeg is absolutely normal?”

  “Well, normality, you know, is a fiction in psychiatry. It’s all relative. No adult is without problems except a happy imbecile. Commander Queeg is a well-adjusted personality.”

  “Do you consider it possible that two weeks before you began your examination Commander Queeg was insane?”

  “It is utterly impossible. The commander is sane now and has always been sane. A psychotic collapse leaves trauma that can always be detected.”

  “You found no such trauma in Commander Queeg?”

  “None.”

  “Commander Queeg was summarily relieved of command of the U.S.S. Caine on December 18, 1944, by his executive officer, who stated that the captain was mentally ill. Do you consider it possible that on that date Commander Queeg was in such a state of psychotic collapse that the executive officer’s act was justified?”

  “Absolutely impossible.”

  “Is it possible for a sane man to perform offensive, disagreeable, foolish acts?”

  “It happens every day.”

  “Assuming for a moment-this is a hypothetical question-that the conduct of Commander Queeg throughout his command was harsh, ill tempered, nasty, oppressive, and often showed bad judgment. Would that be inconsistent with your board’s findings?”

  “No. We did not find that he was a perfect officer. We found an absence of mental illness.”

  “From your knowledge of the commander, would you say he is capable of ill temper and harshness?”

  “Yes. It’s in the picture.”

  “Having discovered all that, you still say that the act of the executive officer in relieving him was unjustified?”

  “From a psychiatric standpoint, completely unjustified. That was the unanimous conclusion of the board.”