“And so they may,” said Lieutenant Commander Surprenant. “But that scarcely answers my question, does it? Shall we try again? Do you believe you WERE Admiral de Villeneuve in a previous life?”
“Well, even General Patton believed he had been a great warrior in a previous incarnation.”
“So he may have. But would you be willing to give my question yet another try? Do you believe, Commander Reid, that you actually WERE Admiral de Villeneuve in a previous life? That’s a yes, or a no.”
“Well, we do share some deep French roots.”
Captain Dunning interrupted. “Commander Reid, please answer the question. Yes or no.”
“No,” replied Shark’s former CO. “I do not believe I actually was Admiral de Villeneuve.”
“Thank you, Commander,” said defense counsel. “And now, if I may, I should like to read something to you—‘Another life, another battle, so many mistakes in Bucentaure. I must never repeat them now that I have another chance. June 1980. DKR.’ Do you recognize those words, Commander.”
“Well, vaguely, yes I do.”
“Who wrote them?”
“I did.”
“Where did you write them?”
“In a book, I believe.”
“A book about reincarnation, wasn’t it?”
“Maybe.”
“Commander, perhaps you would care to tell the panel whose ship the Bucentaure was?”
“It was Admiral de Villeneuve’s flagship.”
“In your own words, Commander: ‘…so many mistakes in Bucentaure. I must never repeat them now that I have another chance.’ Sir, you believe you are the reincarnation of one of the worst Naval commanders in history, correct?”
Locker Jones had had enough. He leaped to his feet and almost shouted, “OBJECTION! This quotation, written more than twenty-five years ago, was plainly pilfered from the private quarters of the Commanding Officer of USS Shark, unlawfully and disgracefully. It cannot be admissable evidence in any court of law in the free world.”
Captain Dunning nodded. But he said, “This is not a civilian court of law, where lawyers are trained to find loopholes to free guilty people. This is a United States Navy court-martial, and we have no other objective except to find the truth. We are assessing the guilt or innocence of men who are trained to take charge of ships worth four hundred million dollars. Everything is relevant in this regard.”
“But my client is not on trial, sir,” protested Lt. Commander Jones.
“I know he’s not,” replied Boomer. “Objection overruled.”
Al Surprenant continued. “Commander, do you think it might be unnerving for a crew to discover that their leader believed he was a navy disaster area in a previous life?”
“I cannot say what they might feel.”
“But do you think they might quite properly be concerned?”
“OBJECTION. The question’s been asked and answered.”
“Sustained.”
“Commander,” asked the counselor, “are you a spiritualist?”
“In some ways.”
“Does that mean you have merely inherited the spirit of Pierre de Villeneuve, or do you believe you have been in contact with people from…er…the other side, I believe is the phrase?”
“Like many millions of others, I may have.”
“Commander, have you spoken lately with Captain Grigory Lyachin?”
Donald Reid remained silent.
“Someone enlighten me,” interjected Boomer Dunning. “Who’s Grigory Lyachin?”
“He’s that Russian commanding officer who died with his crew in the Kursk submarine, Barents Sea, seven years ago,” said Al Surprenant.
“Commander Reid, would it surprise you to know that certain senior members of your crew heard you talking to him by candlelight in your cabin?”
“DAMN THIS. DAMN YOU ALL! I’M NOT ON TRIAL HERE.” The ex-CO of Shark was standing now, shouting back at the defense lawyer, all semblance of self-control slipping away.
Lieutenant Commander Jones was also on his feet. “Sir, I really must object most strenuously to this line of questioning. Defense is attempting to paint this veteran commander of many years standing as an oddball, which is patently unfair.”
“Your word, not mine,” interrupted Al Surprenant. “Thoughtful of you.”
“SILENCE!” snapped Captain Dunning. “Please be seated, and listen carefully. “If I consider the questioning of a witness to be irrelevant or unfair, I shall make my views known. If you object to anything, please say so, and I will make a judgment. But I will not tolerate banter.
“And, for the record, I do think it is extremely important to know that Commander Reid has some unusual views. I was once in a ship where the Captain was known to pray extensively on a nightly basis, and it damned near caused a mutiny. Ships are like that. Little things can mean a great deal, especially concerning a CO.
“This evidence about Commander Reid matters. And I am afraid he is going to have to put up with it. He was, after all, instrumental in bringing this court-martial, and my sympathies are not with him in these instances. Please proceed, Lieutenant Commander.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Al Surprenant, humbly. “Commander Reid, have you ever tried to contact Grigory Lyachin in a spiritual way? Perhaps to seek counsel or guidance from a man who has paid the ultimate price for carelessness?”
“It was never his fault. Any more than it was de Villeneuve’s. They were both let down by others.”
“Then you have been in contact?”
“In a sense.”
“Thank you. And now I would like to return to more immediate concerns. As you know, Lieutenant Commander Headley, by the morning of June seventh, had much on his mind. His CO, a spiritualist who associated himself closely with two massive Naval disasters, had twice made decisions apparently detrimental to a SEAL operation — we have established that. He was dealing with a man who played rigidly by the book, presumably to avoid making the same foul-ups he had committed at Trafalgar.”
This was too much for Captain Dunning. “Counselor,” he snapped, “kindly desist from this soliloquy. You are not asking questions. You are merely ridiculing the witness. Ask, or sit down.”
“Of course, sir,” said Lieutenant Commander Surprenant courteously. “Commander, would you be surprised to learn that Lieutenant Commander Headley knew you would refuse flatly to help the SEALs. Because of your beliefs and your record?”
“Yes, it would.”
“You will later hear that he did indeed know. It was the predictability that caused the mutiny — that they all knew you would leave the SEALs to die. I have no more questions.”
“Commander Reid, you are excused. But please do not leave the building.” Captain Dunning wrote carefully in his book.
And then Lt. Commander Jones called his second witness, Shark’s Combat Systems Officer, Lt. Commander Jack Cressend, who testified very briefly that he had indeed been asked by Lt. Commander Headley to take part in an act of defiance toward the Commanding Officer, in order to save the SEALs.
At the conclusion of his evidence, a short account of how they did not turn the ship around but proceeded inshore to meet Commander Hunter and his men, Al Surprenant had just one question.
“Lieutenant Commander,” he said, “if you could live June the seventh over, would you still support the XO in his determination to save the SEALs?”
“Absolutely, sir. I would. No doubt in my mind.”
At this point, Lt. Commander Jones announced that he had no more witnesses — but would confine his cross-examination to those appearing on behalf of the accused.