Downs sat stiffly facing the seven officers who comprised the board of inquiry. The night before he had been ordered to report to the battalion headquarters with his fireteam. He had walked through the darkness with Smith and Ferris who now sat in the rear of the room waiting their turn to be questioned. None of the three had spoken during the long walk to the battalion headquarters, and Downs had risen early and eaten alone at the battalion mess.
Captain Simmons, the H&S company commander, reviewed his notes as Downs concentrated on maintaining his composure under the stare of the first sergeant and the sergeant major, both of whom stood to one side of the seated officers with their arms folded across their chests. Downs remembered his drill instructor’s advice from boot camp, “Right hand, right knee, left hand, left knee when facing any kind of board.” He automatically shifted his hands to their respective knees and made a mental note to keep them there.
Before entering the room he had been told by the company clerks that he would give testimony first as he was the senior member of the fireteam. Smith and Ferris would then be questioned by the board after he was finished. He was also told not to discuss his testimony with any other member of his squad, fireteam, or any of the dragon gunners who had been at the hill that night.
Downs knew that other members of the platoon who had been questioned regarding the fight that night were not allowed to return to their units. They were told to remain at the battalion command post until further notice. As his was the last fireteam to testify he was not sure what would happen after he, Smith, and Ferris had given their testimony. Downs was aware that neither Griffin nor Slocum had given their statements as of yet. The two sergeants sat impassively against the wall in the back of the room. Neither spoke to the other or to Downs as he had entered the room.
Captain Simmons finished writing and he lifted his head, speaking to Downs he said, “Good morning, Corporal Downs.”
Before he could continue Downs automatically responded, “Good morning, sir,” realizing as he spoke that the captain had not expected him to reply, but had planned on giving him some sort of preparatory comments. Simmons nodded and continued, “Corporal Downs, as you are now probably aware there have been some questions raised regarding the action at the American ambassador’s mansion on the night of 11 October 1983. The purpose of this board is not to find fault or to establish guilt, but to clarify the actions taken by those concerned. Specifically, I am speaking about the decisions and actions of your squad leader, Sergeant David Griffin, and the squad leader of the dragon squad, Sergeant Robert Slocum. It is the belief of this board that these two Marines were responsible for the defense of the post and the safety of the Marines there.” Simmons paused and looked at the other members of the board who sat studying Downs. Downs stared at the H&S company commander impassively, then realized he was expected to respond.
“I wasn’t aware of the purpose of the board, sir. I was ordered to report here this morning. To you, sir. I was not given an explanation. And neither was my fireteam.” Downs nodded toward the rear of the room where Smith and Ferris sat.
The captain let out an impatient sigh, then continued, “Be that as it may, Corporal Downs, the board is convened to determine the facts of the matter. Your duty is to answer the questions put to you in a clear, concise, and truthful manner. Anything less would be a serious infringement of the Uniform Code of Military of Justice. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” said Downs, careful not to betray any emotion in his voice.
“Good,” said the captain, “then maybe we can continue. I believe you already know the other members of the board and their assignments in the battalion.” As the captain introduced the other officers Downs said “Sir” and nodded to each of the young men. None appeared sympathetic to Griffin or Slocum. Downs surmised that they were making the same effort he was, to remove any trace of emotion or opinion from their expressions or manner. As the junior officer of the board was introduced he raised his pencil, indicating that he had a question for Downs before Captain Simmons continued.
“Do you have a question, Lieutenant Walters?” asked the captain.
“Yes, sir. I do,” answered the officer. The captain waved a hand at Downs, indicating the lieutenant should ask his question. “Corporal Downs, I notice only three Marines from your fireteam are present. Is there a reason why the fourth man is not present?”
Downs looked at the captain who averted his eyes then glared down the table at the lieutenant. Before the Captain could speak Downs answered the question, “Yes, sir. There is a reason the fourth member of my fireteam is not present.” Downs stared at the officer, his face a mask of indifference.
“Well, Corporal Downs,” said the lieutenant impatiently. “Maybe you could enlighten the board.” The sergeant major and the first sergeant shifted uncomfortably against the wall. The first sergeant went so far as to clear his throat and scowl at the lieutenant.
“Lance Corporal MacCallum was killed in action four days ago, sir. It was during a mortar attack on the Alpha company lines. We’ve not been given a replacement as of yet, sir,” said Downs.
For a moment the silence hung in the air before one of the other officers shuffled some of his papers and the lieutenant said, “I see.” After an awkward moment the lieutenant added, “That will be all, Corporal.”
Realizing that the lieutenant had no authority to dismiss him Downs looked at the captain. The captain motioned for him to remain seated. To his rear Downs heard either Smith or Ferris clear his throat loudly and scrape his chair along the dusty concrete floor.
Downs stole a glance at the lieutenant. He was staring intently at some paperwork, not lifting his head from the table. Downs felt elated. In some small measure he knew he had won the opening round. He fought to control his emotions and concentrate on not saying anything that might incriminate Slocum or Griffin. The lieutenant will come after me now, thought Downs. He has to. He was trying to impress his superiors by catching me not reporting with my full fireteam and instead he stepped on his dick in front of God and everybody. Now he has to make up for lost ground or really look like an ass. Downs made a mental note to think carefully before answering any question put to him by the board, particularly the lieutenant.
Captain Simmons cleared his throat and said, “I believe we’re ready to proceed now, Corporal Downs. I want to caution you again regarding answers that are anything less than the full and complete truth.” Downs nodded in answer to the captain’s questioning look. “Very well. Why don’t you begin by telling us what your duties were that afternoon, Corporal Downs?”
“My duties, sir?” asked Downs. “What specifically does the captain want to know?” Downs heard the first sergeant shift as the captain looked directly at him.
“It’s a plain question, Corporal. You do remember what your duties are, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Downs. “My duties as a Marine require that I be aware of, and comply with the standing general orders of the Marine Corps. Would the captain like for me to recite my general orders, sir?”
Simmons exchanged an exasperated look with one of the other officers and Downs noted Captain Roberts, the Bravo company commander, attempting to stifle a chuckle. In an irritated voice the captain glared at Downs and said, “Corporal Downs, what were your specific orders on the night in question? I am not interested in a recital of the general orders by you or anybody else. I want to know what your orders were that night, in regard to your position on that hill and as a NCO in first squad. Have I made myself clear, Corporal?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Downs without a trace of emotion. He hesitated for a long moment, obviously searching for a response.
“Well, Corporal?” asked the captain.
“My orders that night, sir,” said Downs, “were to locate, close with, and destroy the enemy by fire and maneuver, or to repel the enemy assault by fire and close combat.”
As Downs finished his recital of the mission of a Marine rifle squad the captain slammed his tablet onto the table and cursed. The cheap table bounced under the impact of the captain’s fist and the pens, tablets, and coffee cups of the other officers leapt from the table before slamming back down in disarray. The captain closed and opened his fist several times before once again glaring directly at Downs. “Corporal Downs, perhaps you don’t realize the gravity of this situation. I am not sure why you and the other Marines who have given testimony before this board seem unable to appreciate the seriousness of the situation. But I am warning you, mister. You had better answer the questions of this board in a courteous and professional manner, or I’ll personally see that charges are brought against you and your rank reduced to private. Do you understand me, Corporal?”
Downs remained bolt upright in his chair and concentrated on answering “Yes, sir,” with a steady voice. He returned the captain’s stare without looking away and ignored the other officers. Simmons hesitated before looking at the sergeant major and first sergeant. “I am adjourning this board for ten minutes during which time I advise you, First Sergeant, to counsel Corporal Downs and the members of his fireteam on military etiquette and the severity of the UCMJ when dealing with Marines who deliberately mislead or lie to officers. Am I understood?”
The first sergeant had straightened at the mention of his name and now answered with a curt “Yes, sir” and nod of his head. The sergeant major stood by impassively, giving no indication of his opinion of the proceedings. Others in the room left after the five officers filed out. Downs, Smith, and Ferris remained in their seats. As soon as the last of the Marines had filed out of the room the first sergeant crossed to the door and slammed it shut. The sergeant major remained silent, leaning against the wall.
“Get off your fucking asses and lock your bodies!” screamed the first sergeant as Downs and the two others instantly leapt to a position of attention. The first sergeant approached to within an inch of Downs’s face and began his tirade. “Who the fuck do you think you are, mister? You think you’re something special? You think you can sit in front of these officers and give them your smart-ass answers and nothing is going to happen to you?” The first sergeant leaned closer to Downs and he was able to detect the odor of his after-shave and feel the heat radiating from his face. Downs concentrated on looking through the first sergeant, deliberately not focusing his eyes on the man, although their faces were almost touching.
“Well?” screamed the first sergeant. “Do you? I want an answer girls!”
“No, sir!” chorused the three.
“You fuckin’ better believe you can’t. Maybe you think your pals Griffin and Slocum need your help? Is that what this is, some sort of conspiracy? Well let me give you ladies a little information about Griffin and Slocum. Those two shit birds are going to the brig. And when they get there, they’ll be privates. Am I understood?”
“Yes, First Sergeant!”
“That’s better. Now when those officers come back in here you three are going to answer their questions in a manner I think is appropriate. No more of these half-baked answers.” The first sergeant circled around behind Downs and glared at Ferris and Smith. Downs could feel his breath on the back of his neck and he fought to remain impassive to the tirade. “And don’t think for a minute that this little chat we’re having is going to be the end of it. I won’t forget the way you shit birds embarrassed me in front of the captain and the other officers. I hope you enjoyed yourself this morning, Corporal Downs. It is going to be the last time you’ll enjoy anything for a long time. I’m going to make you a personal project, boy. I’m going to instill in you the proper respect for authority that you’re supposed to learn in boot camp. I’m going to be on you like stink on shit, boy.”
The first sergeant again placed his face within an inch of Downs’s. “And you know what, Corporal Downs?” he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll bet it won’t be long before you’re not a corporal anymore. Look at the three of you. You’re a disgrace! None of you has your boots properly polished or your utilities pressed in the prescribed manner. All three of you need haircuts, and I’ll bet your personal areas are as fucked up as the rest of you.”
“Our weapons are clean First Sergeant and …” began Downs.
At Downs’s comment the first sergeant leaned in closer and shoved him back toward Smith and Ferris in a fit of rage. “What did you say, boy? Did I ask you for one of your smart answers? You keep your fucking mouth shut until I give you permission to speak you little motherfucker. How dare you speak to me in that manner. You fucking piece of shit! I was in the Marine Corps before you were born and I’ll be in it when they muster you out as a private, if you even get mustered out and not thrown out.”
The first sergeant drew closer to Downs and said in a low menacing tone, “I own you, boy. From this day forward I’m going to be on you until you can’t take it anymore. You’re going to quit in front of the whole battalion and I’m going to send you home to momma and daddy a humiliated short-haired civilian with a funny haircut. Who the fuck do you think you are, boy? Who is going to help you when I come after you? Who, boy? I’ll tell you, Corporal Downs,” spat the first sergeant. “No fucking body. You’re all alone in this. When I get through with you the rest of the company won’t get within a hundred yards of you for fear I’ll come after them for associating with a shit bird like you. Am I understood?”
“I understand,” said Downs, deliberately failing to address the first sergeant by his rank in the proper military manner.
“Oh, that’s good, Corporal Downs. You play your little games with me, boy,” said the first sergeant in a harsh whisper. “You just remember that I own your little shavetail ass. Do you understand me, you little douche bag?”
“That will be all, First Sergeant! At ease Marines!” Downs and the others went to a position of parade rest, their hands folded behind their backs and their feet spread. The first sergeant spun to see Captain Simmons standing beside the sergeant major, “You’re dismissed, First Sergeant. And I don’t want you back in this room while these Marines are giving testimony.”
The first sergeant looked to the sergeant major as if to appeal the decision of the captain but the sergeant major stood impassively with his arms folded across his chest. As the first sergeant left the room the captain looked at the sergeant major and said, “Sergeant Major, I’ll speak to these Marines now. I’ll notify you when we are ready to resume.” The sergeant major straightened as the captain continued, “That will be all, Sergeant Major.”
The sergeant major said, “Aye, aye, sir” and left the room as the captain crossed to the tables that served as a desk and sat down. He rubbed his eyes, folded his soft cover with the Marine Corps emblem on the front, and let out a long sigh. He looked up as if nothing had happened and said, “Sit down, Corporal Downs. Lance Corporal Smith, Lance Corporal Ferris,” he continued, waving a hand toward the empty chairs. None of the three moved to take a seat and the captain stared at them from behind the table.
“Sit down, Marines. This isn’t on the official record. I would like to talk to you for a few minutes before the board reconvenes.” The three Marines sat, with Downs facing the captain as before. “Look, men. Sometimes the pressure of what we are trying to do here gets to all of us. Unfortunately, the first sergeant has used you three as a vent for his frustration. I can assure you that none of you will be the subject of a vendetta by the first sergeant or anyone else as a result of what has happened this morning.”
The captain paused as the three sat stoically in their chairs. He knew from previous experience that none of them would give him anything other than perfunctory answers. “If you would like I can arrange to have all three of you transferred to other companies in the battalion for the duration of the deployment. That will ensure that the first sergeant is not in a position to harass any of you.” The captain looked at Downs and asked, “Would that alleviate your worries, Corporal Downs?”
Downs hesitated, then answered, “I can’t speak for Lance Corporal Smith or Ferris, sir, but I would just as soon stay in Alpha Company.”
The captain nodded, and said, “I understand. What about the two of you?”
Smith and Ferris glanced at each other before Smith said, “We’ll stay where we’re at, sir.”
“Very well. We still have the matter of the board before us. I want you Marines to know that I understand your desire to protect Sergeant Griffin and Sergeant Slocum. All the board is trying to do is establish the facts of what happened. If some sort of punitive action is taken, and I’m not saying that is going to be necessary, then the matter is out of all of our hands anyway. Both Sergeant Griffin and Sergeant Slocum would be the first to tell you that they were responsible for what went on up there as the senior Marines present.”
The captain hesitated, looking at the three Marines and wondering what was in their minds. Junior enlisted men had always been something of an enigma to him. They had their own society, their own subculture within the Corps. And their own rigidly enforced code of honor. He had known from the start that Griffin and Slocum had done nothing wrong tactically. They had performed in the best traditions of an organization that prided itself on its aggressiveness and willingness to attack in the face of overwhelming odds. He had sensed from the moment he had been ordered to convene the board that it was going to be a witch-hunt organized at the whim of the Alpha Company first sergeant. When it became known around the battalion that he was searching for officers to sit on the board his peers began to avoid him. He had had a difficult time finding four other officers willing to sit on the board and had finally resorted to calling in personal favors and even ordering Lieutenant Walters to be a member of the board.
He silently thought that he could almost have predicted Downs’s responses word for word. He’s sitting there thinking that he can’t trust me, and he’s right. If he’s got any sense at all he’ll just stick to the line that he doesn’t know or he can’t remember. In his place, thought Simmons, that’s what I’d do. Still, there is going to be hell to pay from the colonel if none of the facts are brought forth that might substantiate the first sergeant’s accusations. Already, he knew, the sergeant major would speak to the colonel about his dismissal of the first sergeant from the proceedings. At the very least he could expect a mild-ass chewing from the Old Man. At worst he would get a poor evaluation on his annual fitness report that would effectively end his career before it had gotten started.
He realized that he had to say something to these Marines that would make them trust him and answer his questions. Nothing came to him, his heart just wasn’t in it. He finally looked at Downs and said, “We’ll reconvene in a couple of minutes. Let me remind all three of you that you are bound by your duty as Marines to tell the truth as you remember it. If nothing improper was done that night, then withholding information could be potentially more damaging than telling the full story. Am I making myself clear?”
The three answered “Yes, sir” simultaneously and he nodded. “Good,” he said. “One other thing, and I’m sure you’ve all been told before. For Marines it is possible to delegate authority, but not responsibility. Sergeant Griffin and Sergeant Slocum were ultimately responsible for what occurred that night. Nothing can change that, and none of you can be punished for something they did, or something they failed to do. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they answered.
“Fine. Lance Corporal Smith, tell the others to step inside and we’ll begin.”
The others filed into the small room as Downs sat expectantly in front of the officers. He was puzzled by the captain’s talk, but decided that his original plan was working and that the captain had probably determined that threats from the first sergeant were not going to be effective in eliciting answers. Downs resolved to stay with his plan and not answer any of the questions put to him except in the broadest of terms. He mentally forced himself not to turn and catch Griffin’s eye.
He wondered how Griffin was standing up to it. Downs knew that neither he nor Slocum had been questioned yet, although virtually everybody else at the hill that night had been. Downs reasoned that the officers had a fair idea of what had taken place, although their detailed knowledge was sketchy. The hardest part would be to answer questions in a respectful manner and at the same time deny them any real information. He had noticed Captain Roberts straining to control his laughter earlier, and combined with the talk of Captain Simmons, Downs felt that maybe their hearts weren’t in it. His only chance would be if they didn’t press too hard for the details. If they knew Griffin had ordered him to allow the Arabs to pass unmolested up the hill, and only to fire on them as they retreated, then Griffin would undoubtedly be subjected to a court-martial.
The captain cleared his throat and asked, “Are you ready to proceed now, Corporal?”
“Yes, sir,” answered Downs.
“Very good. As you may already know it has been my policy to allow Marines before this board to relate their version of events on the night in question in their own words. I have refrained from questioning them directly when possible to avoid the appearance of a trial, which this in not. Since you seem somewhat reluctant to relate your version of events the other members of the board and myself have decided to ask you questions regarding events that night. Am I making myself clear to you, Corporal Downs?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well. Captain Larson will ask you a few questions if you are ready.”
“I’m ready, sir,” replied Downs evenly.
“Good morning, Corporal Downs,” said Captain Larson.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Corporal, for the purposes of this board, I’m particularly interested in the position of your fireteam during the fighting. Can you tell me where you and your team were?”
“Yes, sir. My team and I were positioned in the rear of the structure on the second floor.”
“And in what direction was your fire oriented?”
Downs hesitated, wondering where the captain was going with this question. Realizing that they must already know the answer to this type of question Downs answered, “Northwest, sir, if my memory serves.”
“Very well. And what type of targets did you engage that night?”
“Enemy targets, sir,” said Downs.
The officers shifted in their seats, but Captain Larson held up a hand, “I think it is fair to assume you and your fireteam wouldn’t knowingly engage friendly targets. Wouldn’t you agree, Corporal?”
“If the Captain says so, sir.”
“Don’t try my patience, Corporal. And that’s the only warning you will get from me, Marine. Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now, what type of targets did you and your fireteam engage that night?”
“Militia, sir. Irregular, well-armed, hostile.”
“And what weapons did you and your team fire upon them with, Corporal Downs?”
“Sir?” asked Downs.
“Which weapons at your disposal did you engage this militia with, Corporal? The question is plain enough.”
“All of the weapons at our disposal, sir.”
“Which were?”
“The M-16, the M-60 machine gun, and the M203 grenade launcher, sir.”
“And why did you engage this militia?”
“We took fire, sir. According to the seventh rule of engagement, we responded to hostile fire, directing our fire at the source of the enemy fire. No friendly snipers were present so we could not employ them, sir.”
Larson hesitated, making notes on a legal pad in front of him. “Just a couple more questions, Corporal. Did you receive automatic weapons fire?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And how did you respond to that fire?” continued Larson.
“I returned fire with the M-60, sir,” answered Downs.
“Did you initiate automatic weapons fire on the militia force?” asked Larson.
“No, sir,” Downs lied.
“Did any of the Marines under your command initiate such fire?” pressed Larson.
“No, sir.”
“Were any of the Marines in your fireteam wounded that night? In this action?”
“None, sir,” answered Downs.
“So none of your Marines were wounded, yet you found it necessary to bring to bear the maximum amount of firepower available to you in this engagement?” asked Larson.
“That’s correct, sir,” said Downs, swallowing hard.
“Why, Corporal Downs? Are you aware of the fifth rule of engagement that requires that we utilize only the minimum amount of force necessary to accomplish any mission?” asked Larson.
“I’m aware of it, sir. I felt that the amount of force employed was the minimum. We were under heavy fire from a well-armed enemy force that was attacking our position. I was concerned for the safety of my men and the security of our position. We returned fire according to the Rules of Engagement. None of my Marines were wounded. I consider that a successful completion of the mission, sir.”
Larson nodded, “I’m inclined to agree with you, Corporal. However, I would like to clear up one thing. At what point did you take the enemy under fire?”
“After they had fired upon our position, sir,” answered Downs.
“I understand that, Corporal Downs. What I’m driving at is whether they had already engaged the main body at the front of the house or if you engaged them prior to the assault upon the gate?” asked the captain.
“I believe it was after the main body was engaged, sir. But I couldn’t be sure, I did not have line of sight to the front of the house,” said Downs.
“Had you heard firing previous to firing your own weapons?” continued Larson.
“Yes, sir,” said Downs.
“Was that firing outgoing or incoming?” asked Larson.
“Both, sir,” replied Downs.
“Very well, Corporal. Now I would like to ask the two lance corporals in your fireteam if they agree with the story as you have related it to me and the board,” said Larson.
Both Smith and Ferris stood and said “Yes, sir” in unison.
“Is there anything you Marines would like to add?” he asked.
“No, sir,” answered the two cousins.
“Very well.” Larson added a few notes to his paper and looked to Captain Simmons who sat in the middle of the long table. “I’ve got nothing further right now,” he said.
“Then we’ll proceed to Captain Clark.”
Clark nodded and looked at Downs. “Corporal Downs, how are you?”
“Fine, sir,” answered Downs.
“Corporal Downs, I’ve got just a few questions for you and the two lance corporals. I think I’ve got the gist of the matter. I just want to touch on a few points that aren’t quite clear to me,” said Clark.
“Yes, sir,” said Downs respectfully.
“If I understand you, your fireteam was separated from the rest of your squad and placed at the rear of the building, correct?” asked Clark.
“That’s correct, sir,” answered Downs.
“And who ordered you to position your team there?”
“Sergeant Griffin did, sir.”
“And did Sergeant Griffin give you any reason why he was placing your team there?” asked Clark.
“No, sir. He did not.”
“So he just separated your fireteam from the rest of the squad and told you no reason as to why he was doing so. Am I correct?”
“The squad was going into its night defensive perimeter, sir. I did not consider it unusual that Sergeant Griffin would assign a fireteam to the squad’s rear in order to provide observation and defense in that direction. If anything I expected him to assign my team to such a position.”
“And why is that, Corporal?” asked Clark.
Downs realized that he had said too much. The captain had seen an opening and pursued it. He braced himself and answered, “Because I am the junior of the corporals in my squad, sir, and we were in a strong defensive position. Sergeant Griffin uses the more experienced corporals for the more difficult jobs,” answered Downs.
“I see,” said the captain. Downs noted that the lieutenant, sitting to the side of Captain Clark, was furiously taking notes. “Corporal Downs, am I correct that you stated you had an M-60 machine gun with your team that night,” continued Clark.
“That’s correct, sir.”
“And is that SOP in your platoon?”
“No, sir,” said Downs, “we had the extra gun because the battalion operations officer had detailed them to our squad prior to our going out to relieve the dragon gunners on the hill. Ordinarily we would not have had that M-60, sir,” replied Downs.
“Very well. At what point did you order that your grenadier fire his M203 at the militia?” Before Downs could answer, Clark said, “Belay that, Corporal Downs. Which one of your lance corporals is the grenadier?”
“Lance Corporal Smith, sir,” said Downs.
Clark looked to Smith and asked, “Lance Corporal Smith, who ordered you to fire your grenade launcher that night?”
Smith rose to his feet slowly and looked at his cousin who sat beside him, then back to Captain Clark. He realized that his firing the grenade launcher without the order to fire being given by an officer or an NCO was a violation of the Rules of Engagement. “Nobody did, sir. I took the initiative myself,” said Smith flatly.
“You realize that by firing that weapon you were in violation of the Rules of Engagement, and you therefore disobeyed a direct and lawful order, Lance Corporal,” said Clark.
“Maybe so, sir, but the enemy was making use of dead space to fire on me and my team and I thought it was better to risk breaking one of the rules than have one of them get off a good shot with an RPG. Besides, as the grenadier I have the only indirect fire weapon in the fireteam and it is my responsibility to engage hostile targets making use of cover or dead space,” said Smith, virtually quoting from the small unit manual for Marines.
The captain nodded, “That’s correct, Lance Corporal. Corporal Downs, had you and your team taken fire from RPGs that night?”
“No, sir. But we had observed the militia with numerous men carrying spare rounds for RPGs on their backpacks so we knew they had the capability.”
“Did you order Lance Corporal Smith to use his grenade launcher?” questioned Clark.
“I may have, sir. If I didn’t I should have, sir, given the circumstances,” said Downs.
“Very well, Corporal. I don’t have any further questions at this time,” said Clark.
The captain looked down the table to Simmons who then said, “Captain Roberts?”
Roberts regarded Downs for a moment and began, “Corporal Downs, I’ve been listening to your story and the story of the other Marines who have presented testimony before this board and I’m beginning to draw the conclusion that what took place that night was simply an attack upon your position by local militia hostile to the United States. What I don’t understand is why they picked that particular time to attack, and if there was any deliberate provocation on our part that might have prompted their attack. Was there, Corporal Downs?” asked Roberts.
“None that I know of, sir,” said Downs.
Roberts exchanged a glance with Simmons, who then asked, “Corporal Downs, are you aware that Sergeant Griffin struck a local militia leader in front of your position shortly before the attack took place?”
“No, sir,” Downs lied.
“Well, Corporal, you must be the only Marine there that day who didn’t witness it,” said Simmons. “Can you offer any explanation as to why you didn’t see it?”
“No, sir. I cannot.”
“Was it because your team was posted at the rear of the building and you weren’t physically in position to see the fight?” asked Roberts.
Downs thought for a moment, then answered, “Maybe, sir. But also the squad had been up all night during the movement to the hill and after we got there we slept in the basement for a few hours. If it took place then I wouldn’t have been aware of it.”
Roberts nodded his head and said, “I see. Tell me, Corporal Downs, do you think the action at the hill that night was avoidable?”
“Avoidable, sir?”
“Yes. Do you think that Sergeant Griffin or Sergeant Slocum did something that provoked the militia and induced them to attack?” asked Roberts.
“I don’t think so, sir. It is my understanding that the position had been attacked previous to our arrival and the gatehouse by the entrance had evidence of previous attacks. I’m not sure that those weren’t probing attacks and the end result was the militia decided to attack the night we got there.”
“In your opinion, Corporal, did Sergeant Griffin or Sergeant Slocum do anything that night or that afternoon that would cause you to question their actions or motivations?”
“No, sir,” said Downs, realizing that Roberts was trying to let him establish a defense for Griffin and Slocum. “They both took every precaution and measure to ensure the safety of their squads, equipment, and the integrity of the perimeter. The fact that we didn’t take any friendly casualties that night while we inflicted quite a few on the attacking force speaks for itself, sir. In my opinion they are both good infantry NCOs, sir.”
“How long have you been in first platoon, Corporal Downs?” asked Roberts.
“About three years, sir,” said Downs.
“And do you think Sergeant Griffin is a competent squad leader?” he continued.
“Yes, sir. I do.”
“Do you think there is anything he might have done differently that night that would have avoided an attack by the militia?”
“No, sir, not that I’m aware of,” answered Downs flatly.
“Do you, in your opinion, believe that Sergeant Griffin and Sergeant Slocum acted within and according to the Rules of Engagement, as they are set forth?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well, Corporal Downs. I don’t have any more questions for you at this time. I want to thank you for your candor. I believe that Lieutenant Walters has some questions for you and your fireteam now,” said Roberts.
The lieutenant cleared his throat and shuffled his paper work. “Corporal Downs, I find a few inconsistencies in your sequence of events,” said Walters.
“Yes, sir,” said Downs warily.
“Why exactly did you begin firing on the militia?” he began.
“We took fire from them, sir. Under the seventh rule of engagement we returned fire,” answered Downs.
“And who authorized you to return fire?” asked the lieutenant.
“I authorized my team to fire, sir. We were receiving hostile fire. As an NCO, with no officers in the perimeter, I am authorized to order my Marines to return fire.”
“And how many rounds did you fire at them that night, Corporal Downs?”
“Sir?” asked Downs.
“I want to know how many rounds your team expended that night, Corporal.”
“Exactly, sir?” asked Downs.
The lieutenant gave an exasperated sigh and said, “You can give me an approximate figure, Corporal.”
Downs turned to look at Smith who shrugged, then answered the lieutenant, “Sir, I really don’t know.”
“Well then, take a guess, Corporal.”
Downs thought for a minute and said, “I’m not sure, sir. Maybe five hundred to a thousand rounds from the M-60. I couldn’t even guess how many rounds the others fired. I just don’t know, sir.”
“Very well,” said the lieutenant, obviously irritated. “Lance Corporal Smith, how many rounds did you fire from your grenade launcher? An approximate figure will do.”
Smith stood and hesitated for a moment. “Maybe a half dozen, sir. I couldn’t be sure either, sir. It was kind of hard to tell with the firing goin’ on and all.”
“I find it hard to believe that you only fired six rounds that night, Lance Corporal. Maybe you would like to reconsider and give me another number,” responded Walters.
“No, sir,” said Smith.
“No, sir, what?” asked the lieutenant.
“No, sir, I don’t want to reconsider it. You asked me about how many rounds I fired that night and I told you about six. I don’t need to guess again, sir. My first guess is as good as any. With all due respect, sir, it’s a guess. I just wasn’t real concerned about countin’ rounds at the time and it never occurred to me afterward that somebody might be interested later, sir.”
“You Marines seem to have awfully convenient lapses of memory,” said Walters angrily. “Corporal Downs, maybe you remember how many casualties you inflicted?” he asked.
“It would be hard to say, sir. It was dark, and the hill is partially wooded, which prevented us from firing illumination. I don’t really know, sir. A lot of them went down under fire but they were probably just taking cover in dead space and crawled out of my field of fire. I would guess five or six KIA anyway, sir,” said Downs.
“And where was Sergeant Griffin during all of this, Corporal?” asked Walters.
“I don’t know, sir. He’s the squad leader. I would assume he was with the majority of the squad or at whatever position he thought most critical to the defense of our position. That’s his job as the squad leader, sir.”
“Thank you, Corporal, but I already know what Sergeant Griffin’s job was that night,” said Walters. “Frankly, I am beginning to find your smug attitude more than just an annoyance. You are on the verge of drawing a charge sheet from me regarding your answers, Marine. So I would advise you to carefully weigh all of your responses. Am I understood?”
“Yes, sir,” said Downs, fuming. He struggled to compose himself and not let his demeanor betray him to the officers. He had known that the lieutenant would be the most difficult officer of the five, and now that was being borne out.
“Corporal Downs, when you took this militia under fire, in which direction were they traveling?” asked Walters.
Downs thought for a moment then answered, “Northwest roughly, sir.”
“No, Corporal,” said the lieutenant in a patronizing tone, “were they moving up the hill to attack, or were they moving down the hill?”
“They were moving up the hill, sir. And later they were moving down the hill. We fired on them both times and while they were moving in both directions,” Downs lied smoothly.
“Do you two agree with that last statement?” The lieutenant directed this to Ferris and Smith.
“Yes, sir,” they both answered.
“What I don’t seem to understand here, Corporal, is why the militia leader would take your position under fire if he was retreating down the hill after being repulsed at the gate. Maybe you could help me and the board to better understand that point?” said the lieutenant.
“Is the lieutenant asking me why I think the militia commander fired on my position when he was retreating, sir?” asked Downs.
“That’s precisely what I am asking, Corporal,” said Walters.
“I wouldn’t be qualified to answer, sir. With all due respect, I don’t have any way of knowing what he was thinking, sir.”
“Maybe he didn’t fire on you at all, Corporal. Maybe you were the one who initiated the firing on the orders of Sergeant Griffin,” said Walters.
“No, sir,” said Downs, the anger apparent in his voice.
“Maybe he fired on us for the same reason he came up the hill that night, sir,” said Smith from the rear of the room. “Or maybe he fired on us to cover his retreat off the hill. They know the area, they knew where to find us to attack us. It seems to me it follows that they would have scouted our position and known they would be visible at that particular spot on the road and that we could take them under fire there.”
“Lance Corporal, when I want you to answer a question I’ll address one to you,” snapped the lieutenant. “Until that time you are not to interrupt.”
“I’d like to hear the lance corporal’s answer, Lieutenant,” said Captain Simmons. “That is, if you don’t object to the interruption.”
“No, sir,” said the lieutenant.
Simmons looked to Smith and nodded for him to continue. “Well, sir, it’s just this. They came up that hill for only one reason, and that was to attack us. They tried the gate a couple of times and found they couldn’t get through, so they backed down the hill. They fired on us whenever they had the chance with whatever they had available. I just don’t understand what we were supposed to do. It sounds to me as if you wanted us to take casualties before we started firing back, and that just doesn’t make sense to me, sir. We acted like a squad of Marines is supposed to act when they are under fire.” Smith looked around at the faces that had turned toward him as he spoke. “I guess that’s about all I have to say, sir.”
“That’s fine, Lance Corporal. Take your seat,” said Simmons. The captain looked at the others members of the board, then asked, “Lieutenant Walters, do you have anything further?”
“No, sir.”
“Very well. Corporal Downs,” said Simmons, “I have a few more questions for you specifically. They pertain to the movement down the hill the morning following the firefight. It is my understanding from previous testimony that you were the point man on that day. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir. It is.”
“It is also my understanding that on the movement down the hill you encountered a wounded enemy soldier, correct?”
“That’s correct, sir.”
“Fine. Before I ask anything further I have to admit I’m a little puzzled why a corporal would be walking point. Could you explain that?” asked Simmons.
Downs hesitated, then answered, “Sergeant Griffin assigns all the positions in the squad during movements, sir. I’m usually the point on patrols. I couldn’t really say why Sergeant Griffin has me on point, sir.”
The officers on the board looked at each other and Downs noted that most of them made some sort of note of his answer. He knew that his position as the point man must have been of some interest to them and braced himself for more questions about the militiaman they had given the morphine.
“So what you are stating to the board is that you routinely walk the point during your squad’s patrols?” continued Simmons.
“Yes, sir. Almost always,” replied Downs.
Simmons nodded his head and continued, “Fine. Corporal Downs, let’s get back to the wounded militiamen you found that morning. How many were still alive when you got to them?”
“Only one that I saw, sir.”
“And where did you find this individual?”
“Top of the hill, sir. Just outside the gate.”
“Very well. What was his condition when you found him, Corporal?”
“He was severely wounded, sir. He had open wounds of the abdomen and stomach and he kept losing consciousness.”
“Did this man offer any resistance to you or any of your Marines?” asked Simmons.
“No, sir.”
“Do you think he was capable of it?”
“Probably not, sir. But we removed his sidearm and checked him for grenades or booby traps just the same.”
“Is that all you did with him, Corporal?” asked Simmons.
“We also administered first aid to him, sir.” Downs looked on as four heads bent toward their notepads and the officers again scribbled their notations.
“What exactly did you do, Corporal?” pursued Simmons.
“What does the Captain want to know, sir? What type of first aid was administered?”
“Precisely. Be as specific as you can, Corporal,” said Simmons.
“I called up Sergeant Griffin when I determined that the man was alive. Sergeant Griffin then ordered me forward to establish security and I believe he called up the Doc, sir.”
“Is that all that happened as far as you are aware?” asked Simmons.
“That’s what I remember, sir. The man was wounded too badly to move. I may have discussed the possibility of calling a medevac bird with Sergeant Griffin, but I’m not sure.”
“So what you’re saying, in effect, Corporal Downs, is that you found this man because you were the point man and that you then called Sergeant Griffin to the scene?” asked Simmons.
“Yes, sir.”
“Were you present when the man was administered medication, or dosage of medication was being discussed?” asked Simmons as he leaned over the table.
“I was in the area, sir. On the point,” said Downs.
“And do you recall what was administered to the individual?” asked Simmons.
“I wouldn’t be aware of that, sir.”
“Answer the question, Corporal. And that’s an order,” said Lieutenant Walters.
Downs regarded the lieutenant, then stated, “I was on point, sir. My duty was to scout the area to the immediate front of the squad and determine the best route for movement of the squad and the possibility of contact with a hostile force. I am not qualified to state whether or not the individual in question received any medication or in what amounts, sir.” Downs again looked to Captain Simmons, “That’s the truth, sir. I remember the Doc coming up, but it was obvious the guy was too far gone to help.”
Simmons nodded his head, then said, “Fine, Corporal. Did you encounter any more wounded on the way down the hill?”
“None, sir.”
“As best as you can estimate it, how many KIA did you see on the way out, Corporal Downs?” continued Simmons.
“Maybe ten or fifteen, sir.”
“Located where?”
“Near the gate at the top of the hill. And also farther down. In the area that was the kill zone for my gun and the field of fire for my team, sir,” said Downs in an even tone.
“Approximately how many did you observe in your own kill zone?”
Downs thought for a minute. “Maybe five or six, sir.”
“Very well, Corporal. I would like to leave the discussion of the movement off the hill and ask some questions pertaining to the briefing you received concerning your mission that night. Do you recall specifically what you were told concerning the mission prior to departing the battalion area?”
“Some of it, sir. But not word for word.”
“Just do your best, Corporal Downs. A summary will be fine,” said Captain Roberts.
“Yes, sir,” answered Downs. “I believe our mission was to depart the battalion area at oh-three-hundred hours and proceed by convoy to the designated hill. Once there we were to relieve the dragon squad and assist them in bringing out whatever gear they had at the hill. Our orders specified that we were not to leave any gear in place that might be used by the locals.”
“Do you recall at what time your squad was to depart from its position on the hill?” asked Roberts.
Downs thought for a short while. Obviously the time designated for departure would have been chosen by the battalion operations officer and would therefore be known to the board. “I’m not really sure, sir. I know we were told we could catch a few hours sleep after we got to the hill. I think we were supposed to depart the hill ASAP after the gear had been loaded.”
The officers considered Downs’s answer before Captain Simmons asked, “Do you recall Sergeant Griffin telling you a specific time for the squad to be prepared to move that night? After you arrived at the hill?”
Downs sensed the thrust of the questioning. The board wanted to establish that Griffin and Slocum had spent the day preparing their defenses, not loading gear as they should have done if they intended to evacuate the hill as ordered. He suppressed the urge to smile then answered, “No, sir. After our arrival at the hill Sergeant Griffin told me to have my fireteam rack out in the basement of the building for a few hours as we would have to spend the rest of the day loading gear onto the six-bys. I don’t recall him giving me a specific time the movement would take place.”
Downs was satisfied that his answer was a good one. It would cover Griffin and not allow the board to establish that he and Slocum had defied orders and deliberately waited for the Arabs to attack instead of preparing to abandon the position. Captain Simmons cleared his throat and asked, “After your squad got up, how did you spend the rest of the day, Corporal?”
“Sergeant Griffin had us assist the dragon squad and the radio personnel in loading gear onto the vehicles, sir.”
“Is that all, Corporal?” continued Simmons.
Downs knew that the officers would know from previous testimony that the squads had also strengthened their defensive position and dismounted the .50 caliber machine guns, remounting them in the building as a defensive measure. “No, sir. We also improved the defensive posture of the perimeter. The vehicles were moved to the rear of the courtyard and the heavy machine guns brought inside the building and set up with their respective fields of fire.”
“And who was responsible for this, Corporal?” asked the lieutenant.
“Sergeant Griffin was, sir. As the senior NCO present and there not being any officers in the area.”
“Watch your mouth, mister!” shot back the lieutenant. “Or I’ll charge you with disrespect toward an officer.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Downs, acknowledging the order.
“Corporal Downs,” said Roberts, “were you aware that one of the six-bys was down due to mechanical failure and that the departure of the squads was going to be delayed?”
“I became aware of that when we started loading the vehicles and I saw the driver attempting to start it, sir.”
Roberts nodded, then asked, “Do you know the nature of the problem?”
“With the vehicle, sir?”
“Yes.”
“I wouldn’t know, sir. I do know that our orders were to bring out all the equipment at the position and Sergeant Griffin wouldn’t abandon that vehicle, sir.”
“Was that particular vehicle in working order when your squad arrived at the position?” asked the captain.
“I couldn’t say, sir,” answered Downs.
“I see, Corporal. Do you recall at what point it became operable?” asked Roberts.
“No, sir. Not really,” said Downs.
Simmons exchanged glances with Roberts, then asked, “But it did leave the position under its own power the next day?”
“As far as I know, sir.”
“Very well, Corporal Downs,” said Simmons. “I think that is all the questions we have for you and your fireteam at this time, unless one of the other officers has something.” Simmons paused to look at the others who shook their heads negatively. He looked at his watch and continued, “Given the time we won’t hear any more statements today. Corporal Downs, you will remain in the battalion headquarters with your fireteam until tomorrow at oh-nine-hundred. If we do not have any further questions by that time you will report back to your company with your team. Is that understood, Marine?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well. You are dismissed.”
Downs rose and took the required step backward and said, “Good day, gentlemen.” The officers of the board nodded and Downs spun on one heel and left the room with Ferris and Smith.