The Lonely War (37 page)

Hudson and Clifford nodded their heads in agreement, and left Andrew to his coffee. They staggered away from the stockade, holding each other like drowning men clinging to a life raft. Andrew sipped as he watched them go, trying to forget everything else and simply focus on the flavor of his drink.

Ensign Moyer wandered up the path from the go-downs, heading for the stockade. He walked through the front door and told Fowler he needed private time with his client. Fowler smirked as he left the hut.

Moyer dragged a chair close to the bars, sat, and told Andrew that, all things considered, it didn’t look too bad. “They haven’t got much of a case. The whole thing is screwed up.”

Andrew studied his fingernails while his mouth hung slightly open. “Screwed up?”

“Well, for one thing, a court-martial board has to be made up of American officers. There are only three of us in camp, so Mitchell will preside, I’m the defense attorney, and Fisher will prosecute. We’ll have British advisors, but the Americans must do it. The second screwy thing is that we don’t have a Courts and Boards. That’s a manual of US military regulations and laws. It also explains penalties and procedures and such. We’re flying in the dark here because none of us has any experience with military law.”

“Why don’t they wait until we return home to have a proper court-martial?”

“If they do that, there’d be no case at all. You see, they only have one witness and he’s an Aussie. No telling what will happen to him once we’re freed. So the British are pressing to do it here and now while there’s a slim chance of success. They want to make an example of you.”

“So what do we do?”

“That depends. If you plead guilty, the whole court-martial is simply a formality. We can bargain. Mitchell has feelings for you, anybody can see that, so I’m certain he’ll go easy on you. He might even let you off scot-free no matter what happens.”

“I’m not guilty of treason. I did what I had to do. It was not for personal gain.”

“Sounds to me like there was no criminal intent,” Moyer said, staring at Andrew skeptically. “I’m no lawyer, but if we can prove what you say, then we’re home free. Tell me exactly what you did and why and for whom.”

“I can’t.”

“Don’t be a lamebrain. How can I defend you if I don’t know the truth?”

“If the story comes out, it will hurt someone. I can’t let that happen.”

“Tell me. Then we’ll see if there’s a way out of this without hurting anybody.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t tell you. You’re a blabbermouth. It’s because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut that I’m in this fix.”

Moyer’s face flushed. He stared at his feet. “You’re absolutely right, Andy. I’m a stupid windbag who loves to gossip. I’ll carry this shame to my grave, but I swear by God that whatever you tell me I won’t breathe to another soul unless you say it’s okay, may God strike me dead.”

Andrew felt his face take on a peculiar inner smile, radiating from within his golden, speckled eyes. He told his story, starting with his first day on the
Pilgrim
—Mitchell’s kindness, Andrew’s longing for the officer’s companionship, getting caught having sex with Grady, the midnight watch conversations, coming to camp and making the deal with Tottori, his relationship with Tottori, falling in love with both men, his fear of hurting Mitchell if the truth was revealed, and his desperate need to know if Mitchell still loved him.

Moyer listened with his head bowed and his eyes bashfully down, as if trying to hide his shock.

At last Andrew ran out of words and sat staring out the doorway. He watched men shuffle by on the path. Purple clouds shrouded the sky and the first drops of an afternoon shower began to fall.

Moyer lifted his head with an effort. His eyes were dry, but he was choked up to the point that it took a minute before he could speak. “We’ll plead not guilty and hope for the best. Their entire case rests on the testimony of one witness. It’s your word against his. Even if they believe him, all they can prove is that you had sex one time with Tottori.”

Andrew was humbled with gratitude.

“There’s Hudson, but he won’t testify,” Moyer said. “Like I said, Mitchell has feelings for you, so you should do okay. Then again, he’s a by-the-book man, so you might get twenty years. I must advise you to tell the court what you’ve told me. Nathan will be hurt, no doubt, but he’s a man and he’ll get over it. If you wait until after the verdict, it’ll be too late.”

Chapter Thirty-One

December 28, 1944—1000 hours

L
ATE
-
MORNING
sunshine pounded on the desk that crouched in the middle of the central courtyard. Mitchell sat in a straightback chair, leaning over the deck. Directly behind him hung an American flag on a ten-foot pole. The stars on the dingy blue patch were the color of old teeth, and the red and white stripes had faded to nearly the same color. A single sheaf of brittle, yellow paper with black ink writing on it lay on the desk.

Mitchell tried to read the charges, but the glare made it difficult to see. Sweat beaded across his forehead and a nauseous headache flared behind his eyes. It felt like a malignant diamond in the core of his brain, and each movement of his head made the diamond’s multifaceted cut spray splintered pain-rays through his head. 

He was angry that he had agreed to conduct the hearing in the courtyard for all to see.
Everyone would be more comfortable out of the sun and fuck these jackals licking their chops.

His anger rose as he read, thinking that the inquiry had been botched. The charge of treason, which Fisher had presented the court, was ridiculous. The facts of the case, the only thing they could prove, was that Andrew and Tottori had sex one time on a beach two miles from camp. That was a serious charge, but it was not treason. He didn’t believe anyone could prove treason, or even aiding and abetting the enemy, but Mitchell was not sure. His discomfort, along with his nauseous headache, grew immense. The only thing he was implicitly sure of was that Andrew’s actions, whatever they might have been, were taken with honorable motives.

Andrew and Moyer sat at a rickety table facing Mitchell and slightly to Mitchell’s right. Fisher and Fowler sat at a similar table to Mitchell’s left.

Moyer whispered to Andrew, “Where the hell did they scrounge up that flag?”

Andrew tried to smile but his spirits failed him.

Mitchell read the charges aloud:

“In that Seaman First Class Andrew Waters, beginning on or about May 27, 1942 until now, did willfully, and without proper authority, engage in sexual relations with Commandant Tottori on a daily basis. Such a relationship assumes an intimacy that goes beyond the bedroom to include the passing of military information. This is an act of treason, being that the United States of America is in a state of war with the government of Japan.”

Fisher and Fowler had meticulously gone over their case with Mitchell. He knew they expected no difficulty in proving the charges. It was common knowledge that Andrew spent every night outside the wire, that he was well fed, and that he received extravagant gifts from the commandant. They had one eyewitness, Darby Gaven, who would testify that he saw them having sex. There was also Hudson, who was an eyewitness but would take some pressuring to get him to corroborate Gaven’s story. Mitchell was confident that Hudson would crumble under pressure.

All they could prove was an intimate relationship, but they intended to prove that there was treason as well, military secrets passed over the pillow after heated sex. After all, why else would the masculine commandant pursue a boy? But Mitchell knew that Andrew didn’t know any military secrets. How could he, locked up in a prison for years?

Mitchell glanced up from the sheet of yellow paper, brooding, sallow, his blinding headache etched plainly across his face. He watched Fowler slide his tongue over his lower lip like a hungry wolf. Pride rayed out of Fowler’s face and he could not keep the smirk from his lips. He had waited years for this day. Fowler scanned the thousands of spectators packed into the courtyard and watching from the barracks’ windows. His smirk widened into a smile.  

Mitchell’s right hand shielded his eyes from the glare as he scowled at Moyer. “Defense counsel, how do you plead?”

Moyer stood. “Not guilty, sir.”

A commotion arose from the onlookers. It started by the prison walls and soon the spectators were scurrying to make a path through the crowd. Commandant Tottori marched up the path and into the courtyard followed by four armed guards, their bayonets gleaming in the sunlight. He marched right between the defendant’s and the prosecution’s tables and stopped in front of Mitchell.

“Lieutenant Mitchell,” Tottori said, “I would very much like to examine an example of American military justice. I hope you don’t mind if I merely observe?”

Andrew glared at Clifford.

Shocked by the intrusion and unsure of what to do, Mitchell paused long enough for the realization to dawn on him that Fowler’s witness would be mad to testify about what he saw outside the wire with Tottori listening. Tottori would ship him to the railway work gangs or simply have him shot.

A great, exquisite relief overpowered Mitchell. He nodded. “Very well, Commandant. You may attend these proceedings.”

“I object!” Fowler’s voice was loud and incensed.

“Overruled, counselor. Call your first witness.”

Fowler stood and said with a shaky voice, “May it please the court, the prosecution demands that we move these proceedings to a hut and conduct this court-martial in private.”

“Negative, councilor. Proceed with your first witness.”

Fowler clenched his fists. “May we approach the bench?”

Mitchell nodded.

Moyer, Fisher, and Fowler gathered at Mitchell’s desk. Fowler hissed, “You know damned well Gaven won’t testify with Tottori here. I insist we move to a hut and not allow Tottori to attend these proceedings.”

Mitchell’s headache still raged, but he managed a grin at the sight of Fowler’s anger. “Let me remind you, Lieutenant, that you are merely an advisor to the judge advocate. You have no authority to insist on anything. I should also point out that it was you and the other British officers who demanded that this hearing be conducted here so that everyone could observe. These proceedings are in progress; we will finish it here and now. You will either call your witness or I will dismiss the charges.”

Moyer nearly ran to the defense table. Mitchell heard him as he leaned toward Andrew and said, “We’ve won. Praise God, we’ve won. They won’t put their witness on the stand, so they have no case.”

Fisher and Fowler slumped to their table and discussed their options in hurried whispers.

Mitchell watched Tottori glance at Andrew. Andrew refused to look at him. In Mitchell’s presence, Tottori ceased to be Andrew’s lover. Tottori became a void, an unmentionable indignity.

Mitchell was mildly surprised that Andrew treated Tottori as if he were an embarrassment.
Had Andrew always treated him like that, or perhaps it was having Tottori and me face to face that’s embarrassing.

Mitchell said, “Judge Advocate, this court is waiting.”

Fisher rose. “Your Honor, we call Andrew Waters to the witness stand.”

Moyer laid his hand on Andrew’s arm. “You have to take the stand, but you don’t have to tell them a damn thing. Just tell them nothing happened and we’re home free.”

Andrew stood and took the chair beside Mitchell’s desk.

Fisher listed the evidence they had in a loud, clear voice—the nightly visits outside the wire, the fact that he was well fed, and that Tottori had lavished extravagant gifts on him. He asked Andrew to describe his relationship with Tottori, asking pointedly if they were lovers.

The question hovered in the humid air for all to see and hear, like the rape aboard the Japanese ship—there to confess or deny. Andrew refused to talk about his relationship, claiming that it was none of the court’s concern.

Fisher said, “Fraternizing with the enemy is everybody’s concern. We must know the truth!”

“Truth is inside you. I’m sorry, but you must find it yourself. I can’t help you.”

“If you don’t tell the court the nature of your relationship, then, based on your special treatment, we have no choice but to assume you are guilty of conspiring with the enemy. That in itself is treason.”

An eternity of silence passed before Mitchell said, “Andy, if it’s not true, then there is nothing to be afraid or ashamed of. Please, tell us now.” Mitchell’s voice climbed high at the end, like a cry for help. His heart wrenched, realizing that the uncertainty was worse than knowing.

Andrew must have come to the same realization, because he dropped his gaze and told what the court wanted to hear: that Tottori and he had been lovers since his first days in camp.

Fowler lowered his eyes, but he was unable to contain his joy. It radiated from his face.

Moyer bowed his head in defeat until it touched the table in front of him.

“Was it for the food?” Fisher asked in a much harsher voice.

“My reasons are my own. Do what you must, I will say no more.”

“Then you leave me no choice,” Mitchell said. “I have no other option than to find you—”

“Wait.” Tottori’s voice cut the air. “I know precisely why he did it. It wasn’t for food or anything for himself.”

“Hikaru, no!” Andrew pleaded.

“Andrew Waters, be silent.” The blood drained from Mitchell’s face. “Commandant Tottori, will you please tell the court what you know.”

“I object!” Fowler was on his feet, stabbing a finger at the commandant. “He can’t be a witness.”

“Overruled.”

Tottori said, “Andrew agreed to become my lover in exchange for the serum that killed the gangrene in your leg, Lieutenant Mitchell. Saving your life was the price I paid to have Andrew. Saving you was the only reason he agreed to become my consort.”

Mitchell sat as if heart-shot, mouth open, eyes screwed shut, blood draining from his face, fists clenched. His mind tumbled through blackness. A buzzing in his head kept any coherent thoughts from forming. A heavy silence around the courtyard grew tense. Through the misty numbness in his head he managed to form a question. His voice was weak, scarcely audible. “Is sex the only thing you took, or was there more to this bargain?”