Sweethearts and Wives (The Regiment Family Saga Book 2)

by CL Skelton

  Ian ignored Donald’s question. ‘Your father has been working very hard and I think that he has come up with something.’

  ‘Has he?’ said Donald. ‘You know that I haven’t spoken to him since I was arrested?’

  ‘I know. I think that he’s a bit ashamed.’

  ‘Ian, if you do see him, will you tell him that I know that he did what he had to do. I bear no grudge.’

  ‘He’ll be glad to hear that,’ said Ian.

  ‘Well,’ said Donald as Ian paused. ‘Is that all? Aren’t you going to tell me what is going to happen?’

  ‘No, I’m not,’ said Ian. ‘I have taken the best possible advice on this and we decided that it would probably be better if you did not know.’

  ‘We? Who are we?’

  ‘Sorry, Donald.’

  ‘You’ve found something out, have you?’

  ‘No, Donald, don’t try and draw me. I’ve had some very high-powered advice and I’m going to follow it. I’ll see you in court.’ He smiled at his friend. ‘Good luck.’

  ‘Aye,’ said Donald. ‘We’ll need that, all right.’

  At ten o’clock exactly the court reconvened, and Ian rose to his feet.

  ‘Sir,’ he said, addressing the President, ‘I shall be calling an additional witness.’

  The Judge Advocate glanced sharply in the direction of the President.

  ‘Oh?’ replied the President. ‘How nice of you to let us know. Captain Brown?’

  The prosecutor rose to his feet. ‘Captain Maclaren has already discussed the circumstances with me, sir. We have no objection.’

  The President looked at the Judge Advocate, who shrugged his shoulders disapprovingly, and then back to Ian. ‘Very well. Do you propose to call him now?’

  ‘No, sir. First I wish to recall Colonel Murray.’

  ‘Lieutenant-Colonel Murray,’ said the Judge Advocate with pedantic formality and the President glared at him.

  ‘Just a moment, Captain Maclaren,’ said the President. ‘Are you calling Colonel Murray as a defence witness? It appeared to us that his evidence, when he gave it for the prosecution, was very concise and very complete.’

  ‘Sir, there are a couple of questions which I wish to ask him, and as they are on matters arising out of his evidence and do not involve anything new, I should imagine that they would be regarded by the court as cross-examination.’

  ‘You seem well versed in the law, young man,’ said the Judge Advocate, ‘but you did waive cross-examination when this witness testified.’

  Sir Godfrey had warned Ian about this. ‘Yes, sir,’ he replied, ‘but it has a direct bearing on the new evidence which only came to my notice last night.’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, man,’ the President snapped at the Judge Advocate, ‘I don’t give a damn how we get at it as long as what we end up with is the truth. Does the prosecution object?’

  ‘No, sir,’ said Captain Brown.

  ‘Captain Brown appears to be very accommodating,’ mused the President. ‘Very well, you may recall Colonel Murray. There will be no need to re-administer the oath.’

  Colonel Murray was called and took the witness stand.

  ‘Sir,’ said Ian, ‘there are a couple of points arising out of your evidence which at the time I did not think were very important. Certain facts have since come to light which render it necessary, however, that I ask you one or two further questions.’

  ‘Get on with it, Captain Maclaren,’ said the President.

  ‘Colonel Murray, you will remember that, in your evidence, you said that the general’s orderly came to you and asked if you knew the whereabouts of Captain Bruce?’

  ‘That is correct.’

  ‘Did you know why?’

  ‘Not at the time.’

  ‘But you do now?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Please tell us.’

  ‘I heard from various sources ‒’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ interrupted the Judge Advocate, ‘I am afraid that this falls into the realm of hearsay.’

  ‘Did you have reason to believe that Captain Bruce had committed some offence?’

  ‘No, on the contrary, I gathered that he was about to be commended.’

  ‘Thank you, Colonel, that will be all.’

  The President looked at Captain Brown.

  ‘No redirect, sir,’ he said.

  ‘Call your next witness, Captain Maclaren,’ said the President.

  ‘I call Private Peter Leinie of the Maclaren Highlanders.’

  Peter Leinie was as changed as Ian. Straight backed and smart, he had filled out a lot in the last years. He marched into the courtroom, buttons shining and kilt swaying, and stamped to attention at the witness stand, in no way showing that he had just spent a sleepless night. He took the oath.

  ‘Your number, rank, name, and regiment,’ said Ian.

  ‘One oh four three six one, Private, Leinie, Peter, the Maclaren Highlanders, sir,’ he roared.

  ‘There is no need to shout, Private Leinie,’ said the President.

  ‘Yessirr,’ said Leinie, with only slightly less volume.

  ‘Private Leinie, I want you to cast your mind back five years to March the thirteenth, 1884. What were you doing that day?’ asked Ian.

  ‘I canna tell ye that, sirr.’

  ‘Don’t you remember?’

  ‘I dinna ken a thing aboot dates.’ Suddenly light dawned upon him. ‘Was that the battle at, what the hell was it called?’

  ‘All right, Private Leinie,’ said the President, ‘I think that we can take it for granted that the day in question was the day upon which Captain Bruce left his battalion.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Ian. ‘Now, Private Leinie, I want you to tell the court what happened to you on that day.’

  ‘Sirr. We had formed square. Oor company, that is, Captain Bruce’s, were in the front o’ the square. It was nae sae bad at first. The poor buggers in the other square was getting all the stick.’

  ‘Watch your language, Leinie,’ snapped the President. ‘Yessirr, sorry, sirr. Well, some o’ yon fuzzy wuzzies had a go at oor square. We soon sorted them oot and we got orders to open fire across the ground between us and the ither square. A wee group, mebbe six or seven o’ them, were coming at us, and I saw them. I was young and daft at the time, and I dashed oot o’ the square yeelin’ ma heed off right in amaingst them. Weel, sirr, they cut me down. I mind thinking that this was it, when oot o’ nowhere, there was Captain Bruce standin’ ower me, and the next thing I remember, was him carting me back and dumping me in the middle o’ the square where I could get tended.’ He looked over at Donald. ‘I never got a chance till noo, sir, but I want tae thank ye for ma life.’

  Donald looked embarrassed, but there was no response to Peter Leinie’s remark apart from an admonitory grunt from the President.

  ‘So,’ said Ian, ‘to put it simply, you believe that you are alive today solely because of the heroism of Captain Bruce?’

  ‘Och, aye, sirr. I ken weel that I’d ha’ been as deed as mutton if it hadna been for him.’

  ‘And this was the same day that Captain Bruce disappeared from the regiment.’

  ‘Aye, sirr, I suppose so.’

  ‘You are not allowed to suppose, Private Leinie,’ interrupted the President. ‘Just answer the question. Was it the same day?’

  ‘Weel, sir, I dinna really ken aboot that. I was in nae condition tae ken what was happening.’

  ‘You were badly wounded?’

  ‘Aye, sirr, I was cut up something awful.’

  ‘Thank you very much, Private Leinie,’ said Ian.

  Captain Brown got to his feet. ‘Private Leinie,’ he said, ‘you say that when you were rescued from this situation into which your own foolhardiness had placed you, that Captain Bruce stood over you and dealt with the enemy around you until he was able to carry you back into the square?’

  ‘Aye, sir, that’s reeght.’

  ‘How were you lying?’

  ‘
Eh?’

  ‘Where were you while this was happening?’

  ‘I was on the groond, sirr.’

  ‘And were you face up or face down?’

  ‘I canna remember.’

  ‘You cannot remember whether you were lying on your back or whether you were lying on your stomach with your face pressed against the earth?’

  ‘I suppose that’s reeght, sirr.’

  ‘So if you cannot remember that, I suggest that neither can you remember what it was you saw there. If indeed you saw anything. You could not even be sure that it was Captain Bruce that rescued you.’

  ‘I ken fine it was Captain Bruce.’ There was a note of belligerence in Leinie’s voice. ‘Everybody telt me that it was.’

  ‘Thank you, that will be all.’

  Captain Brown sat down and Ian got to his feet again. ‘Just one more question, Private Leinie. Could it have been anyone other than Captain Bruce that rescued you?’

  ‘No, sirr.’

  Ian resumed his seat. Peter Leinie looked around uncomfortably as there was a whispered conversation between the members of the court.

  ‘Private Leinie, do you believe that Captain Bruce is a brave officer? One with whom you would willingly go into action again?’ asked the President.

  ‘Aye, sirr, he’s the best.’

  ‘All right, Private Leinie, you may go.’

  The President looked inquiringly at Ian.

  ‘I would like to call my last witness, Regimental-Sergeant-Major Macmillan.’

  Originally Ian had intended calling the R.S.M. in order to give general evidence to Donald’s qualities as an officer, but Sir Godfrey had advised him that he should restrict his questioning to the events during the battle. Sir Godfrey feared that the prosecution might be able to make too much capital out of any shortcomings that Donald possessed if Ian were to be too general in his examination.

  ‘Don’t open any doors that you don’t want the other side to barge through,’ Sir Godfrey had said.

  So Ian confined his questioning to the events in the square during the battle, and managed to get a first-hand eyewitness account of Donald’s behaviour during the action. He was extremely careful to keep his questions within very strict limits and had the satisfaction of seeing that the court was obviously impressed with what they heard.

  So well did Ian handle this final piece of evidence that Captain Brown did not even bother to cross-examine.

  When Macmillan stood down, Ian, addressing the President, said, ‘That sir, concludes the case for the defence.’

  ‘Very well, Captain Maclaren,’ replied the President. ‘Do you wish to address the court now? Or would you like a few minutes to consider your closing remarks?’

  ‘No, thank you, sir.’

  ‘Then you may address the court now if you wish to make any statement.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Ian, MacAdam’s precise instructions still in his ears. ‘Gentlemen, you have before you an officer who is a highly intelligent and sensitive person upon whom you now have to pass judgement. I would beg you that in considering your verdict, you judge him, in so far as you are able, not by your standards but by his.

  ‘Of his abilities, I think that there can be no question. His record at the Royal Military College and the obvious satisfaction which he gave to his superior officers during garrison duties in Scotland speak for themselves. I feel also that you must take into account the affection that was felt for him by those who served under him.

  ‘However, we are, and we do not challenge this fact, dealing with an officer who, while on active service, though ‒ and I must stress this point ‒ not in battle, wrote a letter resigning his commission, and without waiting for its acceptance, left his unit.

  ‘The bare facts of this case tell us that this man did in fact desert, albeit that he believed that at that point he was a civilian. The army does not permit officers to resign their commissions whilst on active service. Therefore, he was technically a deserter.

  ‘Why, then, you will say, did we not plead guilty and simply submit our evidence in mitigation? I will answer that. This is not a simple matter and there are other considerations which, in the view of the defence, make it reasonable to return a verdict of not guilty.

  ‘Let us first recall the evidence of Brigadier Bruce. In 1883, Brigadier Bruce was not merely Captain Bruce’s commanding officer, he was also his father. I believe, and subsequent events give credence to my belief, that Captain Bruce is a man of high courage. But he did fear one thing; he feared his father.’ Ian paused to allow the point to get home before continuing.

  ‘We heard in the Brigadier’s evidence that Captain Bruce did, in 1883, attempt to resign his commission. Before going overseas, he had taken a letter of resignation to his father. This, and I do not think that I am overstressing the facts, he was bullied into withdrawing. Under normal circumstances I would not try to present this as a valid defence, but these circumstances were far from normal. Had he persisted, as indeed you may consider he should have done, in resigning his commission, then I am sure that he would have found himself without, not only the regiment, but also his family and his home. One cannot divorce this case from its filial aspect. Donald Bruce was afraid of only one thing, his father.

  ‘I maintain that Colonel Bruce, as he was then, was wrong in not realizing that the man who tendered his resignation was not a man who should be in the army. I suggest that Colonel Bruce was somewhat blinded by his very laudable love of his regiment and its traditions. He could not believe that his son did not feel the same as he did, and there was a certain selfishness in Colonel Bruce’s action. Had the Colonel accepted that resignation, it would have been, in his mind, a slur upon himself and his family.

  ‘Captain Bruce, then, went unwillingly to the Sudan with his regiment. There he behaved, as we have heard from Colonel Murray, in a most gallant and exemplary fashion. Exemplary to the point that the general officers of that campaign were at the very moment of his desertion contemplating submitting Captain Bruce’s name for the highest gallantry award that this country of ours offers.

  ‘I am aware that we have not offered any direct evidence to support this claim, but I see no reason why, should the court have any doubts about its validity, they should not take evidence from any of the three generals concerned. Gentlemen, those three eminent soldiers are far afield, performing very important tasks. Therefore, I would beg you to accept what I have said as fact. However, if you have doubts, then I would beg that your decision be delayed until their evidence can become available to this court.

  ‘I believe that Captain Bruce is a man who loathes and detests killing. I would like you to remember that the only time he committed an act of aggression was in order to save the life of a comrade in the field. A soldier whom you have seen after five years of active service ‒ enjoyed thanks only to the gallantry of Captain Bruce ‒ has become a credit to the army and the regiment he serves.

  ‘Whether or not Captain Bruce was fully aware of the law regarding his leaving his unit whilst on active service, I do not know. I do not think that Captain Bruce could answer that question and that is one of the reasons I did not call him to give evidence on his own behalf.

  ‘I must say, gentlemen, that if Captain Bruce is guilty, then by implication his commanding officer is equally guilty. For without the action of his commanding officer, Captain Bruce would never have been in the situation in which he finds himself today, and Private Leinie would be a dead man.’

  Ian stood silent for a moment looking hard at the President, and then abruptly he sat down.

  In the ensuing silence, while Captain Brown was glancing through his notes, Donald turned to Ian and whispered, ‘Listen, Maclaren, I did not like the things you said about my father.’

  Ian glanced at him with a half smile. ‘Don’t worry, he did. Your likes and dislikes don’t come into it, Donald. Your father will be delighted.’

  Captain Brown got to his feet and made a very brief summing up, runn
ing rapidly through the facts. He pointed out, with great emphasis, that there was no dispute between the prosecution and the defence on this. He then formally asked for a verdict of guilty and sat down.

  The President glanced around the court. ‘Well, gentlemen,’ he said, ‘we will retire now and consider the case as it has been presented.’

  Ian watched them as they filed out of the courtroom, intently scrutinizing the face of each officer as he passed, looking for some indication of what he thought. More than one of them glanced over towards Donald as they left. That at least was a good sign. Sir Godfrey had told him that a jury never look at a man they are about to condemn.

  After the court had retired, Donald was taken away to the prisoner’s room to await the verdict. Ian hurried along there and, much to his surprise, was refused admittance.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said the officer who was guarding Donald, ‘but Captain Bruce does not want to see you.’

  Ian wandered off along the dim stone-walled corridors, where he was astonished to run into Gordon Bruce.

  ‘Gordon, what the hell are you doing here?’ he asked.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what I’m doing,’ was the reply. ‘How long before the verdict?’

  ‘Could be minutes, could be hours. But ‒’

  ‘Thanks, Ian. If you do happen to see Father, don’t tell him that I’m here.’

  Ian was well aware that he had deeply wounded Donald by attacking his father and wondered if Gordon was aware of what he had said. However, there was nothing he could do about that now, and he headed in the direction of the mess, where he found Willie Bruce.

  ‘I’m sorry, sir, that I said what I did, but I thought that it gave us our best chance.’

  ‘Ye did well, laddie,’ said Willie. ‘Whatever happens now, I dinna think that any man could ha’ done better.’

  ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Ian. ‘I’m afraid I’ve upset Donald, though.’

  ‘Och, that doesna matter,’ said Willie. ‘If we can get him off this, nothing else matters.’

  ‘I agree, sir.’

  ‘Besides, you were right.’

  ‘Was I?’

  ‘Aye, it was ma pride that did it.’ He paused. ‘I’ve got permission tae come into court to hear the verdict.’