General Barton Hughes, the commander of the Hammerhead Division, sat behind a folding desk in a farmhouse five miles from the fighting. He was fifty years old, had black hair and a black mustache, and his face was scarred by acne. He smoked a pipe and was shuffling through his paperwork when there came a knock on his door. “Come in!”
The door opened, and Lieutenant Woodward entered the office, marching to General Hughes’s desk and saluting. “Lieutenant Woodward reporting, sir.”
“Have a seat Woodward,” Hughes said gruffly.
“Yes, sir.” Woodward sat worriedly because the tone of Hughes’ voice indicated he wasn’t in a good mood.
“I’ll come right to the point,” Hughes said, “because I don’t have much time.” He looked Woodward in the eye. “I don’t like the way you’re pushing this court-martial against Sergeant Mahoney.”
“But sir, I—”
“Don’t interrupt me,” Hughes said sternly. “First of all, you don’t have a leg to stand on because it’s your word against Mahoney’s, and let me tell you that Mahoney’s word is better than yours around here.” General Hughes held up a piece of paper. “This here is a recommendation for the Silver Star for Mahoney, from his company commander.” He held up another sheet of paper. “And this is your request for a court-martial proceeding. They both arrived on my desk on the same day. How can I court-martial one of my best NCOs right after I award him the Silver Star? The answer is that I can’t and I won’t. Mahoney is a first rate soldier and an outstanding leader of men, and I want him to keep doing just what he’s doing.”
“Sir,” said Woodward, “may I speak now?”
“Yes, but be brief.”
Woodward leaned forward because he realized that his reputation and career were on the line. “Sir,” he said, “regardless of Mahoney’s past record, he has been insubordinate to me, and he hit me when I wasn’t looking. That clearly is a violation of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. I don’t think you should make Mahoney an exception. If a soldier commits a crime, he must be punished no matter what his record is.”
General Hughes knitted his bushy eyebrows together. “Why did he hit you?”
“Because I gave him an order he didn’t like.”
“What was the order?”
“I told him to attack a particular military objective, and he refused. I insisted, and he struck me.”
Hughes shrugged. “Well, Mahoney’s got a lot more military experience than you have. I’d have to say that his evaluation of the situation probably was more valid than yours. You know, Woodward, you might be an officer, but Mahoney’s a much more seasoned combat soldier than you are. Young lieutenants like yourself are supposed to learn from men like him.”
Woodward nearly choked. “Learn from Mahoney?”
“That’s right!”
Lieutenant Woodward was starting to panic because he realized the situation was turning against him. Somehow, he had to regain the initiative. “Sir,” he said, “regardless of everything that you’ve said, the fact remains that Mahoney hit me in the face with his rifle and injured me to the point where I cannot return to duty. Surely you can see that that’s a violation of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, and cannot go unpunished.”
General Hughes shook his head. “What you call a fact, the Army calls an allegation. I’m telling you straight-out, Lieutenant, that you won’t make it stick. And there’s another issue here that’s more significant to me. As far as I’m concerned, if an enlisted man ever strikes an officer, nine times out of ten it’s the officer’s fault because an officer is incompetent if he lets his command deteriorate to the point where one of his men will use violence against him.”
Lieutenant Woodward felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. “But sir, that’s like blaming a murder victim for getting himself murdered.”
“No, it’s not. It’s blaming an officer for not being able to handle his men.” General Hughes scowled. “I’m not going to court-martial Mahoney, and if you go over my head to Corps on this, I’ll court-martial you. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve made a mess of your first command, but I’m going to give you another chance. You can’t go back to Charlie Company after what’s happened, but when you’ve recovered from your injuries, I’ll have you transferred to another company, and you can start off with a fresh slate.” Hughes pointed his finger at Woodward. “Just remember that you’re only a second lieutenant and not God, and you can learn a few things from the old soldiers. If I can still learn from the old soldiers, so can you. Any questions?”
“No, sir.”
“You’re dismissed.”
Lieutenant Woodward stood and walked out of the office, his face hot with rage and shame. This’ll be a black mark on my record forever, he thought. My Army career’s off to a bad start because of that damned Mahoney. Depressed and demoralized, he looked at the ground and dragged his feet back to the hospital. If I ever get the chance, he said to himself, I’m going to kill Mahoney.
~*~
In a German hospital just behind the Siegfried Line, Dr. Krauser entered the room of Colonel Richter, who was lying on his back in a bed, staring at the ceiling. Behind Krauser were four younger doctors and two nurses.
“Well, Colonel,” said Krauser with a smile, “How do you feel?”
Richter had been injected with several painkilling and sedative drugs. “I feel dizzy and weak.”
“Hmmm,” said Krauser, looking at Richter’s chart. His temperature was normal, indicating no infection. “Well, it looks as though you’re progressing quite well.”
“When can I return to duty?” Richter asked.
“Soon,” replied Dr. Krauser. “Perhaps in a week or two. As I told you previously, you’ve suffered no serious internal injury, thank goodness. We’re going to turn you over now, so I can examine the wound.”
The nurse rolled Richter onto his stomach, and Dr. Krauser removed the bandage. The wound was stitched neatly, and the blood around it had coagulated.
“You’re healing nicely,” Dr. Krauser said, washing his hands in a basin which another nurse held for him. “You must have a strong constitution.”
Richter grunted as he lay on his stomach, thinking of the beautiful American woman who’d stabbed him. His heart hurt him more than the wound in his back because he’d really thought they were meant for each other.