28 August 2008
WRAPPED TACO STYLE in his blanket, Larry Kay was dreaming. An ancient eastern warrior was prodding him toward a cliff’s edge, forcing him along at the point of a sword.
Lieutenant! the dream-warrior whispered, jabbing him in the back.
Kay rolled over and opened his eyes. His tormenter dissolved into the darkness, replaced by Tommy Scott.
“Lieutenant! Time to hit the gym!”
Kay groaned and scrubbed a hand through his crew cut. “What time is it?”
“Oh four hundred. Rise and shine!”
“Are you kidding me right now? Wake me up when you get done working out. I’m going back to sleep.”
Scott walked away laughing.
An hour later, Kay was up and in the TOC. The Combat Logistics Patrol was inbound that day with, Kay fervently hoped, some vehicle parts he had ordered over two months before. On the TOC Blue Force Tracker, Kay monitored their progress from Ghazni toward Airborne.
The NDS was slated to come pick up the detainees, so by 0600, MAJ Cheasty and Doc Brincefield, a medic, were busy examining prisoners at the coffeehouse. Hill had asked them to make a detailed record of the prisoners’ physical condition prior to their transfer to NDS. Hill wanted to be sure D Co had written records of the detainees’ condition before turning them over. When the exams were complete, each prisoner was given a change of clothes and an opportunity to wash up.
When Kay checked the BFT again, the CLP was just a click away, the lone icon on the screen. He went out to meet the trucks near the flagpole. Kay was mentally composing the nastygram he would fire off to Ghazni if his parts didn’t come when an unexpected face startled him: Major Rob Smith, the Battalion XO. He had replaced John Karagosian in the slot weeks earlier.
Smith returned Kay’s salute.
“Hi, sir,” Kay said. “Did you come up with the CLP?”
“No, I came with the mortars. Where’s Captain Hill? I need to see Captain Hill or Major Fulmer,” Smith said.
“Roger that, sir. Let me go get Captain Hill.”
Kay walked away, puzzling. An unannounced visit by a higher-up? It had literally never happened.
Flash. A burst of light bloomed in front of Sammy, who had raised his shirt to expose his torso.
“Turn him around,” MAJ Smith said to a guard. He held up a small digital camera and snapped a picture of Sammy’s back. The flash fired again.
Summoned by Kay, Hill had met Smith at the TOC. The major said he wanted to see the detainees. Immediately. A little hope had blossomed inside Hill: Maybe Battalion was coming through after all. He’d had Scott escort Smith to the coffeehouse. Scott then stood by as D Co’s guards brought the prisoners to the XO, one by one. Smith snapped multiple pictures of each detainee, capturing the condition of each man’s face, chest, belly, and back. He also had each man drop his pants.
With the prisoners examined, Smith exited the coffeehouse. Hill met him outside and the two headed down the hill. “I don’t see anything wrong with those guys,” Smith said casually.
“That’s because there’s nothing wrong with them, sir,” Hill said. The two men laughed softly.
Back at the TOC, Smith sat down and made a list of people he wanted to interview. Later he disclosed that he was at Airborne to conduct a “15-6,” a commander’s inquiry into allegations of detainee abuse.