by David Poyer
“I was ordered not to give it.”
“Ordered not to? By whom?”
“Commander Bryce, sir.”
Bryce stood up. Ausura glanced up, studying him over his reading glasses. “Please sit down, Commander. Isaacs, is it? If you have material knowledge that ought to be brought to the attention of this Court, those orders have no legal effect.”
“I can’t get charged for it? Is that right, Admirals?”
The men in blue and gold nodded, murmured agreement. They pushed back their chairs and looked carefully at Isaacs.
“All right, then. The XO thought I was drunk during the underway replenishment. I take a drink, but I wasn’t drunk then. So he lock me up in the supply storeroom. That’s where I was when all this happening. And when it did, they all forgot about me down there. The XO and all them others, the master-at-arms and them. Except Mr. Lenson. He come down after me and bust me out.
“I didn’t stop to thank him then. Mr. Lenson, you back there, I see you. I do not like to hear the things the exec been saying about you. After thinking about it some, I decided I got to tell what really happened in the whaleboat.”
“Go on,” said Ausura. “Take your time. We’re very interested in what you have to say, Petty Officer.”
“Thank you, sir.” The boatswain cleared his throat, glanced up for a moment at Bryce, then dropped his eyes again. His voice gained a little volume.
“After the ensign let me out the brig, I went topside. I looked for my life raft. It wasn’t there. So I went on aft, thinking to find one I could join up on the muster for.
“When I got to the boat deck, I seen the crew putting the boat in the water. Only they couldn’t get the engine started. Weatherspoon, the engineman in charge, he wasn’t anywhere around.
“Well, I knew I could get it started. They said if I could, I could come with them. So we got her in the water.”
“Who was in the whaleboat at this time?” Johnstone asked him.
“Lassard, Greenwald, Gonzales, Mr. Norden, Commander Bryce, and me.”
“Go on.”
The boatswain drew a square with big, scarred hands. “There was a little shiny box under the thwart. It belong to Mr. Bryce. He keep shoving it back under there with his foot.”
“I object. This man is an alcoholic and a liar.”
“Please resume your seat, Commander. We will call you presently. Go on with your testimony, Isaacs.”
“I was keeping the engine going, it was not easy because it had got some kind of solids in the intake. But I did. So soon as we hit the water, Greenwald, he ask, ‘Where to, Commander? You want to pick up some of these guys?’
“Mr. Bryce, he say, ‘They got plenty of rafts and things. So, let’s head on over there, toward one of the other ships.’”
Dan hauled himself upright in the chair. Around him he heard the soft rush of people breathing in. “Then what happened?” asked Dennison gently.
“Greenwald, he kind of argued back over this, but Mr. Bryce, he shouted at him, ordered them to do what he say. The others didn’t seem to care much one way or n’other.”
Johnstone looked away, through the walls. “What was Mr. Norden’s contribution to this discussion?”
“He didn’t say nothing—didn’t say a mumbling word. He just sit there in the bow holding his head. He looked sick, but he never said nothing.”
Everyone waited.
“We head away from the ship. After about fifteen minutes, the engine craps out and won’t start again. We drift around some after that while I disassembles the intake. Finally, might be a hour or so, I get her started again. Then we heads for one of the ships.”
Isaacs glanced briefly up at Johnstone. “Guess that’s about all. Sir.”
“Have you anything now to lay to the charge of any officer or man with regard to the loss of USS Ryan, or their conduct after the collision?”
Isaacs inclined his head with great dignity. “Yes sir, I believe I do. I believe Mr. Bryce, he did not act proper in not picking up them men in the water.”
“To clarify the sequence of events: The boat’s engine was running at the time Commander Bryce gave the order to head away from the ship. It only stopped running some time later, when you were already distant from Ryan?”
Isaacs nodded soberly. Morehead opened his eyes and said, “What happened to the box?”
“XO had it under his arm when he went aboard TALBOT. I never seen it after that.”
“Do you have anything to add?”
“I think that is about it, Admiral, sir.”
As soon as Isaacs unfolded from the witness chair Bryce stood again. “I request the stand to answer this witness.”
“Please resume your seat, Petty Officer Isaacs. Mr. Bryce, come forward.”
* * *
“COMMANDER, you have heard the testimony just given by Boatswain’s Mate First Class Isaacs. It is evident that it casts doubt on your conduct after the collision and perhaps before it, as well. Do you have any—”
Bryce crossed his legs and said, coolly and a little sadly, “It is a lie and a fabrication; that’s all; and I will be happy to prove it.”
“Please elaborate.”
“This Isaacs, like Evlin, was in restriction—actually he was confined in the brig—because of incapacity and drunkenness on duty, infractions that had resulted in the death of the boatswain’s mate chief the night before.
“Now, it gives me no pleasure to say this, but occasionally you see a case in the service where someone is promoted beyond their competence, so to speak. That—what do you call it? Peter’s Law thing. This is as tragic for the man concerned as it is for anyone else. Isaacs here is one of these unfortunate cases. He was incompetent and, like I have said, an alcoholic. These are just malicious, wild accusations, or delusions; anyway, there’s nothing to them. To prove this, I suggest you call any of the men in Ryan’s whaleboat with me. They’ll all back me up, to the T.
“So, this nonsense about a box. There is a box, was a box, but it contained only personal papers, a will, photographs, personal letters, and so forth, which I didn’t wish to lose.”
“You gave no order to leave the scene of the sinking, without picking up other survivors?”
“No. Never. The motor died immediately after we lowered and we were carried away by the wind.
“Now, do us all a favor. Since accusations against me are on the record now. Call the other men in the gig. Any or all of them.”
“With the court’s permission,” said Johnstone distantly, “I will do that. Please step down, Commander.
“I recall Lieutenant Richard N. Norden to the stand.”
* * *
NORDEN looked like a wan, sick child propped in the chair. His hands lay limp on his lap. For an infinitely brief moment, Dan felt pity for him.
“Mr. Norden, please give us your opinion of Boatswain’s Mate First Class Isaacs.”
Dan didn’t catch the muttered reply. Apparently Johnstone didn’t either. The admirals leaned forward, Dennison cupping his ear.
“Please speak up.”
“I said, he was not a very effective petty officer.”
“Is he an alcoholic and liar, as Commander Bryce has stated?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll read back your testimony given on the first day of this inquiry: ‘Apparently I went aft, got into the whaleboat, and abandoned ship.’ Was the whaleboat your assigned ‘abandon ship’ station?”
“It was not. I repeat, as I said, my recollection of this is not of the best, because I had a head injury—”
He stopped speaking. “Please go on,” said Johnstone after a few seconds.
Dan rubbed his hand on his trousers. It left a damp smear. On the stand, Norden sat motionless, wilted, his chin in his left hand. He seemed to be looking at the flag. But when Dan followed his gaze, he saw a short, white-haired man in a dark gray suit. The old man, looking back, was ancient and grim as death itself. As Dan watched he nodded
slightly, almost to himself.
Vice Admiral Ausura said, “Please respond to the question, Lieutenant Norden.”
“I did not have a head injury,” Norden muttered.
“Please elaborate.”
“I said, I didn’t have a head injury. I was struck in the head, but it didn’t affect my memory. As I—as I said it did.”
“You have been warned that any testimony you may give may be used against you in the event of a trial by court-martial.”
“I understand that. I still wish to retract my previous testimony. I have—I’ve thought better of it.”
Bryce lumbered to his feet, lifting his hand like a child wanting to be called on in class. “I wish to have a word with the witness in private. Or else he needs to be assigned counsel. He’s injured and not responsible; he’s not acting in his best interests.”
Johnstone was already speaking when Ausura broke in and overrode him. “Your request is not granted. Please resume your seat, and make no further interruptions of testimony before this Court. Please proceed, Lieutenant.”
Norden said, “Ikey’s, I mean, Isaacs’s testimony is correct. We manned the boat with the crew, Bryce, Isaacs, and myself. Seaman Vogelpohl was originally with us, too. He attempted to let others aboard and was clubbed down. We then lowered away without permitting any other people to board. I saw two other men struck with boat hooks and oars when they attempted to climb aboard during lowering. They fell into the water.
“We had a capacity of at least twenty-three in the whaleboat. We did not pick up any of the many … the many injured and dying men who surrounded us. Instead we proceeded through them away from the Ryan. They called to us. They screamed. Some of them cursed us. Shortly thereafter, the oil on that side of the ship ignited—”
“This witness is lying, too—”
Ausura said grimly, “Sit down, Commander. You will be given a chance to explain yourself thoroughly at a later date.” He glared at Bryce till he sat, then returned his gaze to the shrunken figure in the witness chair.
“Please go on.”
“I asked him once to go back. He replied that I’d left my post to save myself. If I didn’t want to be in the boat with them, I could get out of it.
“I did not make any further objections.”
Dennison said gently, “Lieutenant Norden, you stated that ‘two other men were struck.’ Were you struck?”
“I was struck in the head with an oar by Seaman Lassard before Commander Bryce ordered him to let me aboard.”
Morehead raised a pencil. “Why did he and the others change their minds, and permit you in the boat after all, when they did not permit others to board it?”
“I believe he felt it would look better if he was not the only officer in the boat.”
“Did you observe the box Isaacs referred to?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what was in it?”
“I assume it was Bryce’s cash box.”
“His cash box?”
“The executive officer had a rake-off going of the poker games and such on board. He also made short-term loans to enlisted men. I assume that this was what was in the box that he took with him from Ryan as she sank.”
“Did you hear the statement Boatswain’s Mate First Class Isaacs alleges hearing, ordering the boat away from the men in the water?”
“His words as I remember them were: ‘Make for that ship over there, Slick, don’t hang around here; she could go down sudden and pull us down, too.’”
“Who was ‘Slick’?”
“Seaman Recruit Lassard.”
Johnstone was about to speak when Ausura cleared his throat. The vice admiral said, “Mr. Norden, please advise the court why you did not bring this matter forward in your earlier testimony.”
Dan watched Norden’s fingers twist, like mooring lines under terrific strain, then lie flat again. “I was—I had been advised by Commander Bryce that if I did, my career would be over. I’d already made my decision that night on deck. My only chance was to back up their stories. If I did, they would back up mine, and all would be well.”
Again Norden raised his head, and again his eyes locked with those of the old man in the back of the room. He said, “Because of—matters concerning my family’s service reputation—I at first thought it best to agree. However, I have—I have come to feel over the period of the trial—”
“Please speak up, Lieutenant.”
Rich Norden said in a firm, loud voice, “I have come to feel over the course of the trial that my career was not worth the price I would have to pay for it.”
The civilian counsel, Barrett, stood. At Ausura’s nod, he said, “Do you now desire to withdraw your previous remarks relative to Lieutenant Evlin?”
“Yes, I withdraw them. Al was perfectly competent. Bryce hated him because Evlin opposed his abuse of his position. I supported those remarks of his for the reason I already gave: that we were all in the—in the same boat.” His grim chuckle echoed in the listening silence.
“Lieutenant Hauck, do you desire to cross-examine?” Ausura asked heavily.
Packer’s counsel rose. “Do you now have any additional testimony to volunteer relative to the collision itself?”
“I don’t think so, sir, but I’ll answer any questions you may have pertaining—pertaining to anything.”
“Was Seaman Recruit Lassard, in your opinion, under the influence of drugs at the time he was with you in the whaleboat?”
“He had marijuana with him, and he and Greenwald and Gonzales smoked it during the time that we drifted. They offered it to others, but none of us partook.”
* * *
WHEN Hauck was done, the Court talked together in a low tone, then announced a break. Dan stood quickly, but not quickly enough to reach Norden. He and the man in gray were standing together. The old man was holding him, not close, just holding him and looking over his shaking shoulders with the expression of an ancient Roman condemning his own son to death.
He limped out into the corridor, guarding his arm, and stood in line for the bubbler. He was still too confused to feel much. He expected a buzz of speculation, but the witnesses and counsels stood about smoking silently. Bryce came out, lighting a Camel before he was out of the courtroom. The others glanced at him, glanced away. His eyes passed over Dan’s, over those of the others. He bent a bland, mysterious smile toward the flame of his Zippo.
COUNSEL FOR THE COURT: Sir, it was my assignment as counsel for the Court to elicit evidence on every circumstance having to do with the RYAN incident. I feel that I have fully and impartially performed that duty. The Court is now in possession of all the facts that can be ascertained surrounding the collision and subsequent events of interest.
COURT: The Court is now ready to proceed with the closing arguments.
Captain Roland Javits, a party, made the following closing oral argument.
* * *
“IN beginning my remarks, I want first to reemphasize the status of USS Kennedy during the maneuver in question.
“It is common knowledge in the fleet that the carrier, a much larger ship than the rest, is restricted in her maneuverability and is therefore to be regarded with caution and to some degree even suspicion. This is heightened by her frequent turns to seek the wind for launching and recovering aircraft.
“In addition, doctrine and maneuvering instructions explicitly direct that while engaged in flight operations, as Kennedy was, all ships are to stay clear and not embarrass her in any way. It is not too much to say that when so engaged, a carrier can do no wrong.
“None of my testimony on this point has been challenged by any of the counsels.
“I now refer to Exhibit E, the track of the two ships before collision. Subsequent testimony has not challenged its validity and it must be regarded as a true record of the courses followed.
“It is in evidence that shortly before my turn to flight course, Ryan’s OOD prepared a conservative solution to take her safely to stati
on. However, her CO preferred a high-speed turn, a high-speed transit across my bow, and a second high-speed, split-second turn into station. Even if it was ‘good practice,’ any error in execution would result in his ending up out of position, if not in mortal danger.
“Perhaps what we are seeing here is an example of a man being seduced by his own seamanship into a gamble that failed.
“The signals leading up to the maneuver were standard, easily understood, straight from the book. Also, there is no question but that they were received and understood.
“It has been brought out in testimony that the night, though overcast, was clear. Visibility was good. Though my lights were dimmed, Ryan’s JOD has testified they could be clearly seen. The course and station change could have been executed without haste, misunderstanding, or risk.
“The fact that my OOD had to be reminded to assign Ryan her plane guard station is minor. The fact that they called back to ask about it shows that they had anticipated that order and were prepared for it.
“Regarding my adjustment of course to two-five-zero, there seems to be some question that Ryan even heard it. Whether or not they did, I have shown it would have made little difference, as it was a matter only of a few degrees.
“On remarking the dangerous proximity of the destroyer, I immediately backed emergency and ordered ‘light ship.’ I did not sound whistle signals because they would have been confusing. To reconcile the ensign’s testimony with that, it is possible that my boatswain gave a squeak on the horn in excitement, but if so it was not long enough to register with anyone on the bridge. It is also possible that one of the flight-deck crew, driving a plane-handling vehicle, saw Ryan ahead and sounded his horn as a warning to the bridge.
“In any event these are side issues. The single initiating and immediate cause of the accident was Commander Packer’s fatal left-rudder order. This is true regardless of any extenuating circumstances. The collision was not caused by any action or lack of action by Kennedy, and there was no action anyone on her bridge could have taken to avert it.
“It has been theorized by Captain Piasecki that some momentary confusion in Packer’s mind as to his relative position caused him to conclude that his only hope lay in a turn to the left. However, on cross-examination, he agreed that first, there were other actions Commander Packer could have taken to clear up the confusion, and second, that confused or not, he was still accountable. Confusion is not a forgivable attribute of men commanding U.S. Navy ships.
