Gray Girl (34 page)

39

Saturday,
May 8, 1982

2200 Hours

Jan, Kristi and Angel waited in their
room for Cadet Dogety.
 
He said he
would come straight back with news from the disciplinary hearing.
 
As the H-3 Company Executive Officer, he
had been included in the deliberations.
 
The Commandant chaired this committee, which included Captain Spanner,
the B-1 TAC, the Company Commander and First Sergeant and a few other appointed
officers.
 

“What’s the worst that can happen
now?”
 
Kristi asked.

“They could still kick us out,
”
 
Jan
said.
 

“The most they’ll do now is give you
a lot of walking tours,” Angel said, still not fully understanding what had
transpired.
 
    

“You’re probably right, Angel,” Jan
said.
 

“They might even let you off
entirely, like they did with the honor charges,
”
 
Angel
added optimistically.

“I doubt that,” Kristi said as she
looked at Jan.
 
“They will have to
do something with us, I’m just hoping Jackass doesn’t get off the hook.”
 

Two loud knocks on the door caused
the three roommates to jump to attention.
 

“Enter, Sir,” they called in unison.

Dogety stood at the door in his white
cadet shirt, gray trousers and red sash around his waist.
 
“At ease,” he said.
 
The three plebes relaxed while Sam
Dogety walked into the room.
 
He sat
down at Jan’s desk chair and told them to take a seat.
 
“Miss Wishart and Miss McCarron, you
both have received one hundred hour slugs for being out after Taps and being off
limits last night.
 
It’s a good
thing you left your cards unmarked or you might be facing another honor
trial.
 
You may start walking the
area next week after your exams.
 
You can walk off as much as you want during graduation week, also.
 
Any remaining time can be walked when you’re
yearlings.”
 
He took a deep
breath.
 
“Davidson’s been given a
twenty-five hour slug for his role Sunday night.”

Jan and Kristi looked at each other,
breathing a sigh of relief, knowing it could have been much worse.
 
Jan’s plan of staying out of the
“Century Club” had failed.
 
But
given what she had just been through, it seemed like easy street.
 

“What about Jackson?”
 
Jan asked.

Dogety breathed deeply again, letting
it out slowly.
 
“He and I have received
twenty-five hour slugs, with ten hours suspended.
 
We will have to walk the remaining
fifteen hours in the next two weeks before graduation.”

She no longer cared.
 
Jackson was a jerk but not a
rapist.
 
Having been entirely wrong
about Cadet Trane, it was possible she had been entirely wrong about
Jackson.
 
He made mistakes; he had
been mean, hurtful, sexist and rude, at times.
 
His version of the events on Sunday
night and Monday morning differed from
hers which she
realized now
could have been related to each one’s perceptions about the
other one.
 
But he wasn’t the
monster she had made him out to be.
 

After a pause, Kristi asked, “Did
they talk to the girl?”
 

Sam continued, “Apparently she’s
corroborated your story.
 
She
doesn’t want to officially come forward.
 
There’s a rumor that she’s part of the Mess Hall staff and doesn’t want
any negative attention from co-workers or cadets.”
 

“I don’t get that,” Kristi said.
 
“She’s not to blame for any of
this.
 
Why wouldn’t she at least
publically verify her attacker?”
 

“If he’s dead, what’s the
point?”
 
Jan asked.

“What are you guys talking
about?”
 
They had forgotten Angel
was in the room and she still had no idea what happened.

“Uh, Angel, we will be able to tell
you all about it in a few days.
 
But
we can’t say any more about it now.”
 
Jan felt badly that they had slipped.

Dogety stood up.
 
“Miss Trane, please do not repeat
anything you’ve heard here.
 
Your
roommates need your cooperation and silence right now.
 
I’m sure they will fill you in when they
can.”

“Yes, Sir,” Angel replied looking
concerned.

Two days later, both Kristi and Jan
were summoned to the Superintendent’s office.
  
Wearing Dress Gray, they stood at
attention outside his door.
 
The
door opened from the inside.
 
Captain Spanner told them to report to Lieutenant General (LTG)
Stanton.
 
The roommates entered the
massive office and stopped five feet in front of the enormous, mahogany
desk.
 
The Commandant, Major General
Mullenbehr, stood to the left and the JAG officer, Major Quiddy, stood to the
right of the desk.
 
Captain Spanner
stood behind them.
 
They saluted
together.
 
Jan said, “Sir, Cadets
Wishart and McCarron reporting as ordered.”
 
They held the salute until the Supe
saluted back which he did after a longer than normal pause.

“At ease,” he said.
 
The woman went from standing at
attention to standing with feet shoulder width apart and hands overlapped
facing outward at the small of their backs.
 
This was
 
“at ease,” but Jan always thought it was
just modified attention.
 

“I’ve served a long time in the
Army.
 
I’ve seen a lot of things.
Nothing really shocks me anymore.”
 
He paused. “I have to say, though, I didn’t expect anything like this to
happen at West Point.”
 
He paused
again, this time looking out his big, bay window onto The Plain.

“A few years back a cadet drowned in
Lake Popolopen.”
 
He seemed to be
talking to himself.
 
“That case was
shrouded in mystery for so long that by the time they determined it was murder,
the story had died down.”
 
He turned
back to the two women.
 
“But this
time, we have twice the scandal.”

Jan swallowed.
 
She could hear Kristi breathing.
 
The Supe continued, “We have a dead
firstie who was killed by a plebe.
 
We have a witness who says the firstie raped her just before he took off
after you two.
 
However, the victim
does not want her identity known.
 
She is unable or unwilling to testify further.”
 
He paused.
 
“Yet, her statement alone appears to
validate your actions, Miss McCarron.
 
The MP’s believe that you acted in self-defense and they are not
planning to bring any further charges against either one of you.”
 
He paused again before adding, “I happen
to agree.”

Jan and Kristi simultaneously
sighed.
 
“However,” he continued,
“we still have the problem of explaining to the Corps, and the general public,
how a firstie was killed by a plebe.
 
First, let’s talk about the dead man.”
 
The Supe lifted a piece of paper off his
desk and read from it.
 
“Cadet Bill
Trane is admired and respected by everyone.
 
He is considered a role model and an
inspiration to all who know him.
 
Bill serves as the H-3 Company Honor Captain and his reputation is
beyond reproach.
 
He is a good man
with a very bright future in the Army.”
 
LTG Stanton placed the paper back down.
 
“This was written about Cadet Trane in
his last peer evaluation.”

The Supe leaned back in his big
leather chair, placing his hands on his face and then brushing them up through
his gray, but still thick, head of hair.
 
“Cadet Trane had an unblemished record.
 
He had good grades, he was a good
athlete…he seems to have done well in every area as a cadet.”

I
thought he was perfect, too.

“It turns out that Cadet Trane
did
have one problem, however.
 
One that no one knew
about.
 
Not his girlfriend,
not his friends, neither his subordinates nor his superiors—no one seems
to have known about Cadet Trane’s problem.”

Rapists
don’t usually share that information….

“He was an alcoholic.”
 
The Supe leaned forward in his chair and
stared straight at Jan and Kristi.
 
“We searched his room and discovered a stash of liquor in his footlocker
and behind the wall of his bottom closet drawer.”
 

Trane
never seemed drunk to me….

The Supe continued, “It appears that
his drinking problem very likely clouded his judgment on several occasions.”

And
no one ever noticed before?

“What we have here, Miss McCarron and
Miss Wishart, is a situation where a good man went bad because of alcohol
abuse.
 
Do you understand what I’m
saying?”

“Yes, Sir,” Kristi answered for both
of them.

“Cadet Trane is dead, so he cannot
speak for himself.
 
Everyone who
knew him thought he was a great guy.
 
He had many friends.
 
A
family has lost their son and their brother who was just a couple weeks away
from graduating from West Point.”

Jan couldn’t fathom the grief Trane’s
family must be experiencing.
 
All
she knew was that it could have been her family or Kristi’s family
instead.
 
And in Kristi’s case,
there had already been enough grief for one year.
 

The Supe continued speaking.
 
“We are going to have a memorial service
at the Cadet Chapel for Cadet Trane, for the fine young man everyone knew.
 
We are also going to talk about the
dangers of alcoholism and how it can affect the mind, making otherwise good
people do some very bad things.”
 
He
sat back again in his big leather chair.
 
“Miss Wishart, I understand Cadet Trane was your supporting cadet at
your Honor Board.”
 

“Yes, Sir,” she almost whispered.

“So even you must have thought very
highly of Cadet Trane, correct?”

“Yes, Sir.”
 

“What I’m saying to both of you is
this:
 
Cadet Trane did a terrible
thing when he was drunk.
 
But
otherwise, he was a good man who was loved and will be deeply missed.
 
We have to handle his death with
sensitivity and dignity for the family and all who knew him.”

Jan didn’t have a problem with that
part.
 
She figured funerals were for
the living anyway. “Yes, Sir,” they both replied.

“Good, now let’s talk about you
two.”
 

Jan flinched slightly.
 

“What we have here is a situation
where you defended yourselves from your attacker.
 
You did what anyone in that situation
would do.
 
Miss Wishart, you went to
find help while Miss McCarron stayed behind with a weapon, correct?”

“Yes, Sir,
”
 
Kristi
answered.

“Okay, so help me understand one
thing.
 
Miss McCarron, why didn’t
you also go get help with Miss Wishart?
 
Why did you stay behind with the knife?”

Jan felt Kristi flinch this
time.
 
“Sir, I was afraid Cadet
Trane was going to catch up with us.
 
He had closed the gap by the time we had reached the Poop Deck.
 
I felt one of us had to run for help and
one of us had to stay and either fight or hide.”

“So why was Miss Wishart the one who
went for help?”

“Sir, she’s the better runner.”
 
Kristi said it with all seriousness, but
Jan found it slightly humorous.
 
“And Sir, I thought I could hide better.”

“But he found you, didn’t he?”

“Yes, Sir.
 
I tried to hide, but when he got close,
I decided the best defense was offense, so I jumped out.
 
We struggled for a little bit
,
 
and
I could
tell he was going to take the knife, which I had in my right hand, so I jabbed
him with it.”
 
Kristi re-enacted the
jabbing
motion which
looked like what they were taught
in bayonet training.
 
“I was just
trying to hurt him enough so I could get away.
 
But I had no idea I cut his brachial
artery.”
 
They both had learned a
new lesson in anatomy.

“I see.”
 
LTG Stanton looked down.
 
“Do you think he might have killed you
if you hadn’t had the knife?”