The defense counsel introduced as evidence photostatic copies of Maryk’s fitness reports, and then called Queeg. The ex-captain of the Caine, taking the stand, was as debonair and assured as he had been on the first day. The exec marveled again at the change wrought by sunshine, and rest, and a new blue uniform. Queeg was like a poster picture of a commanding officer of the Navy.
Greenwald lost no time in getting to the attack. “Commander, on the morning of December 19, did you have an interview in your room with Lieutenant Maryk?”
“Let’s see. That’s the day after the typhoon. Yes, I did.”
“Was it at your request?”
“Yes.”
“What was the substance of that interview?”
“Well, as I say, I felt sorry for him. I hated to see him ruining his life with one panicky mistake. Particularly as I knew his ambition was to make the Navy his career. I tried as hard as I could to show him what a mistake he had made. I recommended that he relinquish command to me, and I offered to be as lenient as I could in reporting what had happened.”
“What was his response?”
“Well, as you know, he persisted in the course that led to this court-martial.”
“You say you felt sorry for him. Weren’t you worried about the effect of the episode on your own career?”
“Well, after all, I knew the verdict of the doctors would turn out as it did. I can’t say I was very worried.”
“Did you offer not to report the incident at all?”
“Of course not. I offered to report the incident in the most extenuating way I could.”
“How could you have extenuated it?”
“Well, I thought there were extenuating circumstances. A rough situation where a junior officer might well lose his head. And there was the rescue, which he brought off well under my direction. I was assuming mainly that by restoring command to me he’d acknowledge the error. It was the only course at that point that might have saved him.”
“You never offered not to report the incident?”
“How could I? It was already recorded in the logs.”
“Were the logs in pencil, or typed, or what?”
“That would make no difference.”
“Were they in pencil, Commander?”
“Well, let’s see. Probably they were—QM log and OOD rough log always are. I doubt the yeoman would have gotten around to typing smooth logs in all the excitement.”
“Did you offer to erase the incident from the penciled logs and make no report at all?”
“I did not. Erasures aren’t permitted in penciled logs.”
“Lieutenant Maryk has testified under oath, Commander, that you made such an offer. Not only that, but you begged and pleaded and even wept to get him to agree to erase those few pencil lines, in return for which you promised to hush up the incident completely and make no report.”
“That isn’t true.” Queeg spoke calmly and pleasantly.
“There isn’t any truth in it at all?”
“Well, it’s a distortion of what I told you. My version is the exact truth.”
“You deny the proposal to erase the logs and hush up the story?”
“I deny it completely. That’s the part he made up. And the weeping and the pleading. That’s fantastic.”
“You are accusing Mr. Maryk of perjury?”
“I’m not accusing him. He’s accused of enough as it stands. You’re likely to hear a lot of strange things from Mr. Maryk about me, that’s all.”
“Isn’t one of you obviously not telling the truth about that interview?”
“It appears so.”
“Can you prove it isn’t you?”
“Only by citing a clean record of over eight years as a naval officer, against the word of a man on trial for a mutinous act.”
“It’s his word against yours, then, in this matter?”
“Unfortunately there wasn’t anyone else in my cabin at the time.”
“Commander, did you recommend to the commodore at Ulithi that Maryk be allowed to take the Caine to Lingayen Gulf?”
“I thought that would come up. I did, yes.”
“Despite the fact that, according to your story, you had seen him make a panicky mistake in a tight situation—a mistake of the most disastrous kind?”
“Well, I wasn’t recommending him for command. The commodore put it to me that the Navy desperately needed minesweepers. He asked me to put aside personal considerations. I did put aside personal considerations. Maryk vindicated the training I had given him. And if as a result of that he gets acquitted and I carry a black mark for the rest of my naval career I’ll still say I did the right thing.”
“How could you be sure he wouldn’t make another panicky mistake which would cost all the lives on the Caine?”
“Well, he didn’t, did he? I took a calculated risk, and he didn’t.”
“Commander, the Caine took a Kamikaze hit at Lingayen, and yet Maryk brought the ship back safely. Was that likely in a man given to panicky mistakes?”
“Well, I understand it was a glancing hit, practically a miss. Anyway, for all I know, Keefer took charge in the pinch. Keefer is an outstanding officer, best on the ship. I relied more on him than on Maryk.”
“Commander Queeg, did you ever receive a hundred ten dollars from Lieutenant Junior Grade Keith?”
“I may have. I don’t recall offhand that I did.”
“He testified that you did.”
“I did? On what occasion?”
“On the occasion of a loss of a crate of yours in San Francisco Bay. He assumed responsibility and paid for the loss.”
“Yes. I remember now. It was over a year ago. December or thereabouts. He was responsible for the loss, and insisted on paying, and so he did.”
“What was in the crate that cost a hundred and ten dollars?”
“Personal belongings. I don’t recall. Probably uniforms, books, navigating instruments—the usual.”
“You remember the figure of a hundred and ten dollars?”
“Something like that, I don’t recall exactly.”
“How was Keith responsible for the loss?”
“Well, he was boat officer and in charge of the unloading. He issued foolish and contradictory orders. The men got rattled and the crate fell into the water and sank.”
“A wooden crate full of clothes sank?”
“There were other things in it, I guess. I had some souvenir coral rocks.”
“Commander, wasn’t the crate entirely full of bottles of intoxicating liquor?”
After a barely perceptible pause—the skip of a heartbeat, no more—Queeg answered, “Certainly not.”
“Keith has testified you charged him for thirty-one bottles of liquor.”
“You’ll hear plenty of strange distortions about me from Keith and Maryk. They’re the two culprits here and they’re apt to make all kinds of strange statements.”
“Did you make this crate yourself?”
“No. My carpenter’s mate did.”
“What was his name?”
“I don’t recall. It’ll be on the personnel records. He’s been gone from the ship a long time.”
“Where is this carpenter’s mate now, Commander?”
“I don’t know. I transferred him to the beach at Funafuti at the request of the commodore for a carpenter. This was back in May.”
“You don’t recall his name?”
“No.”
“Was it Carpenter’s Mate Second Class Otis F. Langhorne?”
“Lang, Langhorne. Sounds right.”
“Commander, there is a Carpenter’s Mate First Class Otis F. Langhorne at present in damage-control school at Treasure Island, right here in the bay. Defense has arranged to subpoena him if necessary.”
Queeg was obviously brought up short. His head sank between his shoulders. He shot a look at Challee. “You’re sure it’s the same one?”
“His service record shows twenty-one months aboard the U.S.S. Caine. Your signature is in it. Would it be useful to have him subpoenaed, sir?”
Challee said, “Objection to this entire interminable irrelevancy about the crate, and request it be stricken from the record.”
Greenwald said, “The credibility of the witness is being established. I submit to the court that nothing could be more relevant to this trial.”
Challee was overruled. The question was repeated. Queeg said, “Well, it’s a question which crate Langhorne nailed up. I had two crates, as I recall now.”
“Oh?” Greenwald paused for a long time. “Well! This is a new angle, not mentioned by Keith. Did Langhorne make both crates, sir?”
“Well, I don’t recall whether I had both crates on that occasion or two crates on two different occasions. It’s all very trivial and happened a long time ago and I’ve had a year of combat steaming in between and a typhoon and all this hospital business and I’m not too clear. As I recall now on two different occasions there were two crates.”
“What was the other occasion?”
“I don’t recall. It might even have been back in peacetime, for all I know.”
“Did you lose both crates in San Francisco Bay?”
“As I say, I’m not clear on all this, I don’t recall.”
“Commander, there are many points in this trial which turn on the issue of credibility between yourself and other officers. If you wish I will request a five-minute recess while you clear your mind as well as you can on the matter of these crates.”
“That won’t be necessary. Just let me think for a moment, please.” In the silence Blakely’s pencil made a thin rattling noise as he rolled it under his palm on the bench. Queeg sat staring from under his eyebrows. “Kay. I have it straight now. I made a misstatement. I lost a crate in San Diego Harbor back in ’38 or ’39 I think it was, under similar circumstances. That was the one containing clothes. The crate Keith lost did contain liquor.”
“Thirty-one bottles?”
“Something like that.”
“How did you obtain thirty-one bottles of—”
Challee said, “May it please the court, Courts and Boards requires evidence to be developed briefly, materially, and relevantly. It is useless for me to stall this trial indefinitely with objections. I question defense’s entire tactic of expanding on irrelevancies which confuse the issue.”
Blakely said, “Court is aware of requirements of evidence and thanks the judge advocate for emphasizing them. Defense will proceed.”
“How did you obtain thirty-one bottles of whisky, Commander, in wartime?” said Greenwald.
“Bought up the rations of my officers at the wine mess in Pearl.”
“You transported this liquor from Pearl to the States in your ship? Do you know the regulations—”
Queeg broke in, “I’m aware of regulations. The crate was sealed prior to getting under way. I gave it the same locked stowage I gave the medicinal brandy. Liquor wasn’t obtainable in the States, and was at Pearl. I’d had three years of steady combat duty. I gave myself this leeway as captain of the Caine and it was a common practice and I believe rank has its privileges, as they say. I had no intention of concealing it from the court and I’m not ashamed of it. I simply mixed up the two crates in my mind.”
“Keith testified, Commander, that you gave all the orders to the boat crew which caused the loss of the crate.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Also that you refused to sign his leave papers until he paid for the loss.”
“That’s another lie.”
“It seems to be the issue of credibility again, sir—this time your word against Keith’s. Correct?”
“You’ll hear nothing but lies about me from Keith. He has an insane hatred for me.”
“Do you know why, sir?”
“I can’t say, unless it’s his resentment against fancied injuries to his crony, this sailor Stilwell. Those two were mighty affectionate.”
“Affectionate, sir?”
“Well, it seems to me every time Keith thought I looked cross-eyed at Stilwell there was all kinds of screeching and hollering from Keith as though I were picking on his wife or something. I don’t know how else to explain the two of them ganging up so fast to back Maryk when he relieved me unless they were pretty sweet on each other and had a sort of understanding.”
“Commander, are you suggesting there were abnormal relations between Lieutenant Keith and the sailor Stilwell?”
“I’m not suggesting a thing,” Queeg said with a sly grin. “I’m stating plain facts that everybody knew who had eyes to see.”
Greenwald looked around at Blakely. “Does the court desire to caution the witness about the gravity of this insinuated charge?”
“I’m not insinuating a thing, sir!” Queeg said nasally. “I don’t know of anything improper between those two men and I deny insinuating anything. I said Keith was always taking Stilwell’s part and it’s the easiest thing in the world to prove and that’s all I said or meant. I resent the twisting of my words.”
Blakely, his face all wrinkled, said to Greenwald, “Are you going to pursue this topic?”
“No, sir.”
“Very well. Go ahead.”
“Commander Queeg, during the period when the Caine was towing targets at Pearl Harbor did you ever steam over your own towline and cut it?”
“Objection!” Challee was on his feet again. Blakely gave him a frankly irritated look and ordered the court cleared, motioning to the two lawyers to remain behind.
The skin of Challee’s face was leaden gray. “I beg the court’s indulgence. I must object. This towline business is the last straw. The tactics of the defense counsel are an outrage on the dignity of these proceedings. He’s systematically turning this trial into a court-martial of Commander Queeg. He’s not bringing out any evidence bearing on the issue. He’s trying to smear and defame Queeg and nothing else.”
Greenwald said, “Sir, the judge advocate has made it perfectly clear that he thinks he has a prima facie case in the report of the three psychiatrists. Maybe he wants the defense to switch to a guilty plea. But I say it’s still up to the court, not to shore-bound doctors, however brilliant, to judge whether the captain of the Caine was mentally well enough to retain his self-control and his post during a typhoon. This is a direct argument to the issue. I have no way to conduct it except to review the witness’s performance of duty in critical situations prior to the typhoon.”
“Counsel will step outside,” said Blakely.
“I must respectfully state,” said the judge advocate, “that in my opinion, if my objection is overruled, and the reviewing authority disapproves the court’s ruling, it will be a fatal error invalidating the entire proceedings, and a miscarriage of justice will result.”
“Very well, clear the court.”
There was a fifteen-minute wait. Blakely and the other court members looked grim when the parties returned. “The objection is overruled. The witness will answer the question.” Challee appeared stunned, sitting down slowly. The stenographer read the question about the towline from the record.
Queeg answered promptly, “Well, here’s the story on that particular slander. I saw some AA bursts close aboard to starboard. I was gravely concerned that my ship might be within range of somebody’s firing. We were in a gunnery area. I was watching the bursts. This same sailor Stilwell, a very dreamy and unreliable man, was at the helm. He failed to warn me that we were coming around the full 360 degrees. I saw what was happening, finally, and instantly reversed course, and I avoided passing over the towline, to my best knowledge. However, the line parted during the turn. There was a lot of vicious gossip, circulated mainly by Stilwell and Keith, to the effect that I’d cut the towline. I ascribed the mishap to a defective line in my written report to ComServPac. And he was cognizant of all this vicious gossip. And he knew all the circumstances. And he still accepted my report. It’s on file. So I say it’s conceivable that this vicious gossip was correct, but I consider it much more likely that the judgment of ComServPac in the matter can be relied on.”
Greenwald nodded. “You were distracted, you say, by AA bursts. Did anything else distract you?”
“Not that I recall.”
“Were you engaged in reprimanding a signalman named Urban at length for having his shirttail out, while your ship was turning 360 degrees?”
“Who says that—Keith again?”
“Will you answer the question, Commander?”
“It’s a malicious lie, of course.”
“Was Urban on the bridge at the time?”
“Yes.”
“Was his shirttail out?”
“Yes, and I reprimanded him. That took me about two seconds. I’m not in the habit of dwelling on those things. Then there were these AA bursts, and that was what distracted me.”
“Did you point out these AA bursts to the OOD or the exec?”
“I may have. I don’t recall. I didn’t run weeping to my OOD on every occasion. I may very well have kept my own counsel. And since this shirttail thing has been brought up—and it’s a very typical Keith distortion, the whole business—I’d like to say that Ensign Keith as morale officer was in charge of enforcing uniform regulations and completely soldiered on the job. When I took over the ship it was like the Chinese Navy. And I bore down on Keith to watch those shirttails and he kept funking it and for all I know that’s another reason he hated me and circulated all this about my cutting the towline.”
“Ensign Keith did not testify on this point, Commander. Can you name any officer who will testify that he saw those AA bursts?”
“Maybe all of them did and then again maybe none of them did. It was fifteen months ago and we’ve been fighting a war and we’ve had much more on our mind than a few AA bursts off Pearl.”
“Did you drop a yellow dye marker off Jacob Island on the first morning of the invasion of Kwajalein?”
“I may have. I don’t recall.”
“Did your orders include dropping the marker?”
“I don’t recall. There have been several other invasions since.”
“Do you recall what your first mission was during the invasion?”
“Yes. To lead a group of attack boats to the line of departure for Jacob Island.”
“Did you fulfill that mission?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you drop the dye marker?”
“I don’t know for sure that I did drop one.”
“Commander, the orders of the Caine on that morning are a matter of record, and there’s no mention of dropping a dye marker. This court has heard repeated testimony to the effect that you did drop one. Do you deny that testimony?”
“Well, it sounds as though I may have dropped it to mark the line of departure plainly, if I did it, but it’s all dim in my mind.”
“How far was the line of departure from the beach?”
“As I recall, a thousand yards.”
“Did you stay close to the attack boats, leading them in?”
“Well, naturally, not wanting to swamp them with my bow wave, I was a bit ahead.”
“How far ahead?”
“This all happened a year ago—”
“Fifty yards? Twenty thousand yards?”
“Well, I don’t know. A couple of hundred yards, maybe.”
“Commander, did you run a mile ahead of the attack boats, drop your marker, and retire at high speed, leaving the boats to grope to the line of departure as best they could?”
Challee leaped to his feet. “The question is abusive and flagrantly leading.”
“I am willing to withdraw the question,” said Greenwald wearily, “in view of the commander’s dim memory, and proceed to more recent events.”
“Court desires to question the witness,” said Blakely. Greenwald retreated to his desk, watching the president’s face. “Commander Queeg,” Blakely said, “in view of the implications in this line of testimony, I urge you to search your memory for correct answers.”
“I am certainly trying to do that, sir, but as I say these are very small points and I’ve been through several campaigns since Kwajalein and the typhoon and now all this business—”
“I appreciate that. If necessary the court can call a recess for several days to obtain depositions from officers and men of that attack group. It will facilitate justice if you can remember enough to give a few definite answers on points of fact. First of all, can you recall whether your orders contained instructions to drop a dye marker?”
“Well, to the best of my recollection they didn’t. That can be checked against the record. But I believe I can say definitely that they didn’t, as I recall now.”
“Very well. Will you please repeat your explanation of why you dropped it?”
“Well, I guess to mark the line of departure plainly.”
“Were those boats on the line of departure when you turned away from the beach?”
“As near as I could calculate, yes. This was all a matter of tangent bearings and radar ranges of course, but I brought them as close to the line as was humanly possible.”
“In that case, Commander, if they were already on the line, what purpose did the dye marker serve?”
Queeg hesitated. “Well, you might say a safety factor. Just another added mark. Maybe I erred in being overcautious and making sure they knew where they were but then again I’ve always believed you can’t err on the side of safety.”
“From the time you made rendezvous with the boats, Commander, until the time you dropped the marker, what was the widest gap between you and the boats?”
“Well, distances are deceptive over water, particularly with those low-lying boats.”
“Did you stay within hailing distance of them?” Blakely said with a slight acrid impatient note.
“Hailing distance? No. We communicated by semaphore. I might have swamped them if I’d stayed within hailing distance.”
Blakely pointed at the redheaded officer at the far left of the bench. “Lieutenant Murphy informs the court that he was a boat officer in similar situations in three invasions. He says the common practice was to stay within hailing distance, never more than a hundred or a hundred fifty yards apart.”
Queeg, slumped in his seat, looked out from under his eyebrows at the lieutenant. “Well, that may be. It was a windy day and the bow wave made a lot of wash. It was simpler to semaphore than to go screaming through megaphones.”
“Did you have the conn?”
Queeg paused. “As I recall now Lieutenant Maryk did, and I now recall I had to caution him for opening the gap too wide.”
“How wide?”
“I can’t say, but at one point there was definitely too much open water and I called him aside and admonished him not to run away from the boats.”
“Why did your executive officer have the conn?”
“Well, he was navigator and for split-second precision instead of repeating a lot of orders back and forth—And it’s all coming back to me now. As I recall I dropped the marker because Maryk had opened the gap so wide and I wanted to be sure the boats knew exactly where the line of departure was.”
“Didn’t you direct him to slow down when you saw the gap widening?”
“Well, but it was all happening very fast and I may have been watching the beach for a few seconds and then I saw we were running away. And so that’s why I dropped the marker, to compensate for Maryk’s running away from the boats.”
“These are your factual recollections, Commander?” Blakely’s face was grave.
“Those are the facts, sir.”
Blakely said to Greenwald, “You may resume your examination.”
The lawyer, leaning against his desk, said at once, “Commander Queeg, did you make it a practice, during invasions, to station yourself on the side of the bridge that was sheltered from the beach?”
Queeg said angrily, “That’s an insulting question, and the answer is no, I had to be on all sides of the bridge at once, constantly running from one side to the other because Maryk was navigator and Keith was my OOD at general quarters and both of them were invariably scurrying to the safe side of the bridge so I was captain and navigator and OOD all rolled in one and that’s why I had to move constantly from one side of the bridge to the other. And that’s the truth, whatever lies may have been said about me in this court.”
Greenwald, slack-mouthed, his face expressionless, kept his eyes on the court members, who stirred in their chairs. “Commander,” he said, as soon as Queeg subsided, “do you recall an incident during the Saipan invasion when the U.S.S. Stanfield was fired on by a shore battery?”
“I most certainly do.” The ex-captain glowered at Greenwald, breathing heavily. “I don’t know what lies have been sworn to in this court about that little matter, but I’ll be glad to set the record straight on that, too. This same Mr. Keith we’re talking about went hollering and screaming all over the bridge making a big grandstand play about wanting to fire on the shore battery when the Stanfield was in my line of fire and it was absolutely impossible to fire. And so I returned to my patrol station because that was my assigned duty, patrolling, not interdicting fire on shore batteries, and the plane was sunk without a trace and as for the Stanfield it was taking mighty good care of itself.”
“What is the turning circle of the Caine, sir?”
“A thousand yards, but—”
“Sir, in swinging a thousand yards didn’t the Stanfield move out of your line of fire to give you a clear shot at the shore battery?”
“For all I know the Stanfield paralleled my course. I never had a clear shot, that’s all I know.”
“Court desires to question the witness,” said Blakely.
Challee stood. “Sir, the witness is obviously and understandably agitated by this ordeal, and I request a recess to give him a breathing space—”
“I am not in the least agitated,” exclaimed Queeg, “and I’m glad to answer any and all questions here and in fact I demand a chance to set the record straight on anything derogatory to me in the testimony that’s gone before. I did not make a single mistake in fifteen months aboard the Caine and I can prove it and my record has been spotless until now and I don’t want it smirched by a whole lot of lies and distortions by disloyal officers.”
“Commander, would you like a recess?” said Blakely.
“Definitely not, sir. I request there be no recess if it’s up to me.”
“Very well. Was the Stanfield hit during this incident?”
“No it was not, sir.”
“Was it straddled?”
“It was straddled, yes, sir.”
“And there was no way you could maneuver to lend it fire support? Did you try?”
“As I say, sir, it was in my line of fire and my estimate of the situation was that in the circumstances my duty was to get back on anti-sub station and not run around trying to make a grandstand play with pot shots at the beach and that was my command decision and I will stand on it as being in accordance with every existing doctrine, sir. It’s a question of mission. My mission was patrol.”
“Commander, wouldn’t you consider returning enemy fire, directed at yourself or at a nearby unit, an overriding mission?”
“Definitely, sir, if the range was clear. The Stanfield was in my line of fire, however.”
Blakely glanced around at the other court members, his eyebrows puckered, and then nodded shortly to Greenwald. The lawyer said, “Commander, on the morning of 18 December, at the moment you were relieved, was the Caine in the last extremity?”
“It certainly was not!”
“Was it in grave danger at that moment?”
“Absolutely not. I had that ship under complete control.”
“Did you tell the other officers that you had intended to come north, as Maryk did, at ten o’clock—that is, about fifteen minutes after the relief took place?”
Queeg plunged his hand into his coat pocket and brought out two glistening steel balls. “Yes, I did make that statement, and such had been my intention.”
“Why did you intend to abandon fleet course, Commander, if the ship wasn’t in danger?”
There was a long silence. Then Queeg said, “Well, I don’t see any inconsistency there. I’ve repeatedly stated in my testimony that my rule is safety first. As I say the ship wasn’t in danger but a typhoon is still a typhoon and I’d just about decided that we’d do as well riding it out head to sea. I might have executed my intention at ten o’clock and then again I might not have. I was still weighing all the factors but as I say I had that ship under control and even after Maryk relieved me I saw to it that it remained under control. I never abandoned my post.”
“Then Maryk’s decision to come north was not a panicky, irrational blunder?”
“His panicky blunder was relieving me. I kept him from making any disastrous mistakes thereafter. I didn’t intend to vindicate myself at the cost of all the lives on the Caine.”
“Commander Queeg, have you read Lieutenant Maryk’s medical log?”
“I have read that interesting document, yes sir, I have. It is the biggest conglomeration of lies and distortions and half-truths I’ve ever seen and I’m extremely glad you asked me because I want to get my side of it all on the record.”
“Please state your version, or any factual comments on the episodes in the log, sir.”
“Well, now, starting right with that strawberry business the real truth is that I was betrayed and thrown and double-crossed by my executive officer and this precious gentleman Mr. Keith who between them corrupted my wardroom so that I was one man against a whole ship without any support from my officers—Now, you take that strawberry business—why, if that wasn’t a case of outright conspiracy to protect a malefactor from justice—Maryk carefully leaves out the little fact that I had conclusively proved by a process of elimination that someone had a key to the icebox. He says it was the steward’s mates who ate the strawberries but if I wanted to take the trouble I could prove to this court geometrically that they couldn’t have. It’s the water business all over again, like when the crew was taking baths seven times a day and our evaps were definitely on the fritz half the time and I was trying to inculcate the simplest principles of water conservation, but no, Mr. Maryk the hero of the crew wanted to go right on mollycoddling them and—or you take the coffee business—no, well, the strawberry thing first—it all hinged on a thorough search for the key and that was where Mr. Maryk as usual with the help of Mr. Keith fudged it. Just went through a lot of phony motions that proved nothing and—like thinking the incessant burning out of Silexes which were government property was a joke, which was the attitude of everybody from Maryk down, no sense of responsibility though I emphasized over and over that the war wouldn’t last forever, that all these things would have to be accounted for. It was a constant battle, always the same thing, Maryk and Keith undermining my authority, always arguments, though I personally liked Keith and kept trying to train him up only to get stabbed in the back when—I think I’ve covered the strawberry business and—oh, yes, Stilwell’s court-martial. That was a disgraceful business, quite typical—”
Commander Queeg passed to a review of the court-martial, which was also, he said, a conspiracy of Keith and Maryk to discredit him. Then he discussed the failures of the laundry, the sloppiness of the mess statements and ship’s service inventories, and went on from subject to subject in this way, cataloguing his grievances against his officers, mainly Maryk and Keith. He hardly paused for breath. He seemed unable to pause. His narrative became less distinct as he talked, his jumps in time and place more sudden and harder to follow. He talked on and on, rolling the balls, his face glowing with satisfaction as he scored all these successive points in his vindication. Greenwald strolled to his desk and leaned against it, listening respectfully. The court members stared at the witness. Challee slouched, biting his nails. The sentences became longer and more meandering. Blakely began to glance at the clock.
Queeg went on for eight or nine minutes in this way, and ended up, “Well, naturally, I can only cover these things roughly from memory but if I’ve left anything out why you just ask me specific questions and I’ll tackle them one by one, but I believe I’ve hit the main points.”
“It was a very thorough and complete answer, thank you,” Greenwald said. He drew two glossy black photostats from a folder on his desk. “Commander, I show you authenticated copies of two fitness reports you wrote on Lieutenant Maryk. Do you recognize them as such?”
Queeg took the papers and said grumpily, glancing at them, “Yes, I do.”
“Please read to the court your comment on Maryk of January 1944.”
“I’ve already stated,” Queeg said, “that at first he put on the act of a red-hot but cooled off in time—”
“We have that testimony, Commander. Please read the comment.”
Queeg read in a choked voice a highly laudatory description of Maryk.
“Thank you, Commander. That was January. Now by July, six months later, had the Caine already been through the Kwajalein and Saipan invasions?”
“Yes.”
“Had the following incidents already occurred: the water shortage, the coffee investigation, the Stilwell court-martial, and the suspension of movies, among others?”
Queeg hesitated. “Well, by then, yes, I think.”
“Please read your comment of 1 July on Lieutenant Maryk.”
Queeg stared at the photostat for a long time, hunched over, and began mumbling, “ ‘This officer has if anything improved in his performance of duty since the last fitness report. He is consistently loyal, unflagging, thorough, courageous, and efficient. He is considered at present fully qualified for command of a 1200-ton DMS. His professional zeal and integrity set him apart as an outstanding example for other officers, reserve and regular alike. He cannot be too highly commended. He is recommended for transfer to the regular Navy.’ ”
“Thank you, Commander. No further questions.”
Greenwald walked to his desk and sat. The witness looked toward the judge advocate appealingly. Challee stood slowly, like an old man with rheumatism. He approached the witness stand, and seemed about to speak. Then he turned to Blakely. “No cross-examination.”
“You are excused, Commander,” Blakely said. Queeg went out of the courtroom in the same way that Maryk had seen him pass through the wheelhouse a thousand times—shoulders hunched, head down, feet scurrying, the balls rolling in his fingers.
Greenwald said, “Defense has finished its presentation.”
“Recess until one o’clock,” said Blakely.