• Sign up or login, and you'll have full access to opportunities of forum.

A Matter Of Honor

Go to CruxDreams.com
A MATTER OF HONOR (part 11) A continuation of an unfinished story started by Hammerlock in 2011.
Wednesday, July 21st 2021. The courtyard of the former penitentiary building, Old Arsenal Barracks, Washington D.C., 09:55 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time.

Captain Linda Gallo was laying naked, strapped on her cross. She just had been prepared for her execution, her self-chosen crucifixion, the only opt-out for avoiding dishonor. Now she was waiting. The execution team was waiting too. The execution had been scheduled at 10:00 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time.

Waiting…! Like waiting on the battlefield, until the moment to go over the top. Inside her, the fear raged intensely. She tried to keep it inside by controlling her breath. Curiously, her straps gave her no claustrophobic feelings. It felt as if they helped to contain her fear.

She was not alone to be executed. In the courtyard of the Old Arsenal Barracks, four crosses were arranged on a slightly arcuate line, so that they could see each other. Left from her, Lieutenant Fortuna, next Major Norman Dean Bard, the judge who had condemned Karyn Greylocke last year, and the far end, Lieutenant William Maltz. Gallo was on the extreme right. The place of honor.

They were all four here for the same reason. About a year earlier. Despite her disgust after what Fortuna had told her that evening, about General Prescotte, his doctrine and how it had affected her life, she had continued her duties in the 513th. But it was not difficult for Fortuna to convince her to join the conspiracy against General Prescotte, set up by judge Bard.

Unfortunately, the judge, one of the key members of the conspiracy, turned out to be the weakest link of it. As Peter had always feared (from the day the judge had unexpectedly disclosed it (even more, in the presence of Karyn Greylocke), the judge was too incautious. One day, he had talked about the conspiracy to the wrong person. Meanwhile, they had gone already far with it. They had accessed classified information. A lot of it had been provided by Lieutenant Maltz.

The disclosure of the conspiracy coincided with a worsening of the situation in Afghanistan. In the Kunduz area, fierce fighting had broken out. Rebels had infiltrated from Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan, tempting the US Army to pursuit across the border. The impossibility to wage war on such unequal terms, forced the Army to abandon Kunduz and to retreat on Kabul.

Being a dangerous man, General Prescotte, the target of the conspiracy, seized the opportunity. He pulled strings to have the network against him turned into the scapegoat of the loss of Kunduz. Not the brave US soldier far away from home was to blame, even not the Pentagon, but just a bunch of traitors, stabbing the brave US soldier in the back. General Prescotte demanded and obtained a merciless action against the traitors. The conspirators were rounded up. And obviously the Pentagon and the Department of Defense firmly denied the rumors about documents allowing deliberate friendly fire.

For Linda Gallo, a life full of inconveniences of being government property began. Her mind, her body, her life, her time, all were confiscated. It was a life of jumpsuits and shackles, of strip searches, ruthless guards, harsh regulations, solitary confinement, corporal punishments. Not to mention the long interrogations, with forced sleepless nights, or standing hours upright, face to the wall. Often all naked.

A mass court-martial trial was held for thirty-three conspirators, on war terms : no jury, no possibility to appeal the verdict. On Wednesday the 7th of July 2021, the verdict was pronounced. One by one they heard their sentence.
“The defendant Linda Gallo will rise!”
“On the charge of getting unlawful access to classified documents and deliberately disclosing their content : guilty as charged!”
“On the charge of endangering the security of the homeland : guilty as charged”
"On the charge of aiding and abetting the enemy : guilty as charged!”
“On the charge of high treason to the commander-in-chief : guilty as charged!”
“On the charge of conspiracy : guilty as charged!”
“Captain Gallo, this court-martial has determined that you have committed offenses detrimental to your status as a Captain in the United States Army. The conspiracy in which you took part, placed the United States Army in serious danger and is a serious crime, worthy of the most severe sentence this court can impose. Regardless of your motif, your conduct represents a serious breach of honor. You are not worthy to continue in your present role as an officer in the United States Army. It is with this in mind that the court imposes the following sentence. You are to be stripped of your rank as Captain, dishonorably discharged from the United States Army, and sentenced to be executed by firing squad in one month's time!”

The gavel came down smartly, and the judge passed to the next verdict. Seventeen more members of the armed forces got the same sentence as her. The twelve others were convicted to life without parole. Three civilian participants were sentenced to hanging.

Gallo had listened to her verdict, apparently apathetic. Afterwards, when she took her seat again between the other defendants, she maintained a quiet, absent look, her hands supporting her head. But deep inside, her stomach turned, as she knew she would very soon, within days, have to make a gruesome choice…

Two weeks later… on 21st of July 2012.
The clock struck ten.
“Sergeant-major! Execution!” Lieutenant Warren ordered.
“Yes, Sir!”
“Time, Captain!”
“Just do it, Buckley!” She had confidence that Buckley and his team would at least do the job properly.
“Here, Captain! Your ID tag, as you demanded. Just have a look.. yes, this is yours. Lift your head please!”
“Thanks!”
Buckley’s team would nail her and next the judge. Buckley put a rubber rod in her mouth, took a nail and a washer and put them on her wrist.
“Joe! Hold her arm down!”
Gallo had numerous condemned advised not to look at the nailing. But they all looked. And so she did too. Anxiously, she stared at the terrifying steel nail, standing ready to pierce her wrist. Then her fear broke loose. Her breathing became difficult, she felt oppressed. She was about to hyperventilate. She spat out the bit, to the surprise of Buckley.
“This thing suffocates me!” She shouted with a high voice.
“Captain! Try not to look! Please!”
Knowing Buckley, she felt that he had never been so nervous before. She forced herself to look upward, at the blue sky, to make it both Buckley and herself easier. She lay, trembling with fear, trying to get her breath under control. Between the inside of her thighs she felt a warm liquid dripping down…
Then her lower right arm got crushed. In a flash, the blue sky over Washington D.C. turned red-hot. Fierce, intense pain! Her long, loud, intense, uninterrupted cry, filled the air. DC. Through the immense pain, she felt the cross under her tremble and buckle violently against her back and head, on each of Buckley’s blows, as if it tried to take possession of her.
Then she looked. She saw the nail, and she saw blood. She knew that crucifixion methods used by the Army, deliberately intended to minimize blood loss. She had told it to so many people. But as she saw her own wrist nailed, it looked as if a huge fountain of blood was pouring out of it.
She heard Buckley give instructions from behind her. She felt a grip on her left arm and wrist.
While the cross buckled again, The sky over Washington DC turned once more red-hot….
The wrists were done. With disbelief, while uninterruptedly groaning with pain, she saw her wrists, held down by a protruding head of a nail. And blood rushing everywhere! Meanwhile, Buckley’s men prepared her ankles. She felt the men moving and bending her right leg. She knew what to expect now. Buckley stood behind her, put his hands on her shoulders and pressed them against the cross.
“Hang on, Captain!”
“Oh Buckley, why are doing this?” but in fact, his presence gave her confidence.
“Go ahead! Waters!”
The sky over Washington turned white-hot….
After Gallo’s nailing was finished, her straps were removed. Buckley’s section had moved to the judge. For a moment, Gallo was lying alone, recovering from the excruciating nailing of her ankles, that had nearly made her pass out. Being freed from the straps initially felt as a relief, but she wasn’t free no more. With growing disbelief and despair, she became aware of her real situation. She saw the nails in her wrist which restrained her arms to the cross. She saw her bended knees, under which two more nails, invisible to her, held her ankles to the cross. She was free of straps, but nevertheless, she could not move anymore. The cross had taken possession of her.
It kept going through her head “I am nailed to a cross! I am nailed to a cross…..”
She watched how Fortuna, Bard and Maltz were nailed to their cross. She saw and heard their pain, their cries. Then it was all over. The truck arrived.
“Waters, Podolsky, guide her!”
A few minutes later. She was hanging to her cross, and soon found out that hanging to a cross is not just hanging. It means constant heavy labor. And she could not breathe. She had to rise up, against the forces of gravity, by pulling up nearly directly on her bones. Her hands and feet having become useless. The effort made her deeply and loudly moan. Her moan turned into a loud and prolonged cry of pain, when she managed to rise up slowly. As she rose, she was suddenly overwhelmed by something else. The shrapnel in her body, all these minute particles of steel, they turned against her too. From her upper arms, over her shoulder, her back, her bottom and her thighs, it was as if her body was tormented by a thousand knife cuts.
Finally she had reached high enough to be able to breathe. But she had to keep pulling on the nails. She tried to grab to support, but in vain, her hands being almost paralyzed by the severing of nerves. She tilted her head backward, laying her neck on the horizontal beam, but that did not provide any support neither. Ultimately she had to let herself go down, meanwhile braking her fall by pushing her back to the vertical beam as firmly as she could.
Once down, she was exhausted. She had seen many people on the cross, making these moves, but never, never, she had imagined that the crux dance was so terribly hard and painful. This had been only the first cycle of many to come, and already she had made up her mind to let herself suffocate. But her survival instinct was stronger than her mind, and so she started a next gruesome cycle.
After some time, a section of soldiers, commanded by Captain Prescotte, arrived at Gallo’s cross. They carried two ammunition cases. Prescotte apparently had valid orders, signed by Major General Arlton Prescotte for a job to be done. One ammunition case contained carpentry tools. The other one contained four braces and four blunt horn like objects, a few inches long. Warren understood what they were to be used for, and protested heavily. Until Gallo intervened, urging Warren to obey the orders, whatever they were, otherwise, Prescotte would bring him into trouble for insubordination
While Gallo was hanging low, on her outstretched arms, the men put a brace around the vertical beam and secured it into the wood with screws. The frontal part of the brace carried a thread. The carpenters screwed the horn like object on the tread. Then they passed to Peter Fortuna’s cross.
First, Gallo refused to surrender to the horn. But the next time she pulled up, the horn turned out to be a serious obstacle. She had to work herself around it, which needed even a harder effort than before. But particularly during her descent, she had to take care to avoid the upward pointing object. One wrong move and it would impale her. After the third cycle she felt she would have to give up.
She pulled up, this time to sit on it, carefully descending to have her rectum straight above it! Gallo first felt embarrassed about her surrender (specifically while Prescotte was watching her moves). But on the other hand she was relieved that she could have at least a brief rest and that she could breathe rather normally. It made her aware again, of her surroundings, of the onlookers, of her companions, who soon also gave up their resistance. And aware of the events soon to come.
Wednesday, July 21th 2021 was doomsday for the so-called Holden-Bard conspiracy, named after its two leaders. Some of the conspirators had shot themselves in order to avoid court-martial : General Holden of the OCG, Colonel VanSant and Colonel (ret.) Michael Greylocke. Some had managed to flee the country. On Wednesday, July 21th 2021, the fourteen condemned to death that had not chosen for crucifixion, were executed by the firing squad in the courtyard of the former penitentiary of the Old Arsenal Barracks. The executions took place between 11:30 and 12:30 a.m. Nine men and five women were executed in groups of five. A whole infantry platoon, fifty men strong, had been called up as firing squad. It happened all very swift and efficient. The condemned had to march in front of the four crosses, guarded by six MP’s each. No time was lost. They were torn off their jumpsuit and then shackled naked to the poles. The verdict was read, and then : blindfold, ready, aim, fire, coup de grace. The executed were put into their coffins while the next group was already marching along the four crosses. At 01:00 p.m., three civilian participants of the conspiracy were hanged for spying. Their naked bodies were left hanging until 06:00 p.m.
 
A MATTER OF HONOR (part 12) A continuation of an unfinished story started by Hammerlock in 2011.
Wednesday, July 21th 2021. 02:27 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time. Washington DC.

BREAKING NEWS! Communique from the Pentagon. Holden-Bard conspirators executed. Four crucified!

“Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen, At 02:00 Eastern Daylight time, the Pentagon has issued a communique, stating that this morning, between 10 a.m. and 1 p.m., the twenty one sentenced to death in the Holden-Bard conspiracy trial have been executed. At 11:30 a.m., nine men and five women have been executed by the firing squad in the Old Arsenal Barracks, followed, at 1 p.m., by the hanging of the three convicted civilians in the court-martial trial. The communique further states that - I quote – ‘Since 10:00 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time, Captain Linda Gallo, Second Lieutenant Peter Fortuna, Major Norman Dean Bard and Second Lieutenant William Maltz, who have voluntarily submitted the request to have their death sentence commuted into crucifixion, are suffering on their crosses in the courtyard of the Old Arsenal Barracks in Washington D.C.’ unquote. We shall keep you further informed about further developments.”

Washington D.C , around 02:45 p.m.
“This is CNN, with the latest update about the executions of the Holden-Bard conspirators. Our reporter Cynthia Simmons is on the spot now. Cynthia, you are standing in front of Fort Mc Nair! Is there any news about the executions?”
“Well, Bob, officially, the Army sticks to the communique of 02:00 p.m. But from an informal source, we were told that Captain Gallo, Lieutenant Fortuna, Major Bard and Lieutenant Maltz are doing a hard time at the moment. They are struggling on their cross and fighting pain, fatigue and discomfort. But they can request food and drink at all times.”
“Cynthia, we have just seen that ten seconds long reel from a closed circuit camera in the courtyard where the execution has taken place. Or more exactly, is going on. Apparently it was recorded about an hour ago.”
“Sure , Bob, it is the very first time the US Army releases a camera record from crucified convicts. It shows little detail. We can see the four condemned hanging naked on their crosses. Soldiers are around, apparently performing guard duties.”
“Is there anything you can see or hear of the crucifixion itself?”
“No Bob, the access to the camp is prohibited. For hearing something, we are too far away. We are standing here in the corner of the parking lot near James Creek Marina. This is the closest place we can approach to the execution site. You can see through the entrance gate the brick wall with the watch towers on it, over there. Well, it all happens all just behind that wall, only some two hundred seventy yards from here. Behind that wall there, the three men and one woman are delivering the last combat of their life, their final struggle, which is said to be extremely painful, exhausting and humiliating, a struggle for which they have nevertheless volunteered in order to avoid dishonor.”
“How long will that struggle take, Cynthia?”
“It can actually take a few days, until the body gives up. These are four healthy people, has been told us, in good condition.”
“They volunteered for crucifixion. What is in for them? Did you hear anything about their motifs for their choice?”
“The official explanation is that making this choice is a matter of honor, as they avoid demotion and dishonorable discharge. About their personal motifs, no information is released. But I want to remind you that one of the crucified men is Major Bard, after whom the Holden-Bard conspiracy has been named. Remind also that General Holden has committed suicide when the conspiracy was unmasked. One can only guess Major Bard felt responsible for his role in the failure of the conspiracy. This has brought about the execution of more than twenty people. Perhaps Major Bard would have taken his responsibility in this particular way.
“They have been convicted for treason and conspiracy. While the Army is involved in a ruthless war! Why does the Army grant them a honorable choice? When we saw the reel released by the Army, it looked like there was very little agitation. The condemned seem to hang quietly to their crosses? One would expect more struggle. After all, they are about to die.”
“A slow death, indeed, Bob! We have to realize what the consequences of their choice are. These three men and the woman hang on a cross, with steel nails right through their wrists and ankles, without anesthesia. That is already a gruesome experience. They are all naked and exposed to onlookers. They can hardly move, but they never find comfort. They can no longer use their hands. Having a decent sleep is practically impossible. They keep exerting all their normal bodily functions, but they cannot get off the cross, they cannot take a break. It is actually a continuous suffering , a never ending struggle! For these men and the woman, it is an endless, slow and terrible agony, without any prospect of survival at the end. They are going to die right there, Bob, on that cross, and they know. Just imagine, Bob, these three men and the woman hang naked in the open air. Without any protection against the weather, warm or cold. Day and night! Just keep in mind, Bob, the weather forecast for tomorrow is a hot and very humid day, with temperatures exceeding most likely ninety-five degrees. In the evening, thunderstorms are expected with fierce rain showers. Then temperatures will drop to about sixty-five degrees with a cold breeze and a seventy percent chance for showers. Experts have told me that it is very likely that they will be still alive all the time, and fully conscious, so that these three men and a woman will have to endure all this weather, on their naked bodies, besides their pain, their discomfort, and their fear, facing death! That is what happening, Bob! That prospect is the only future that is left for these three men and that woman! And it is all happening there, Bob, behind that brick wall! ”

“Thank you Cynthia for your detailed account on this dramatic event. You will stay there for more news?”
“Certainly, Bob, from the moment we get more news, or more pictures of the executions, or if we are allowed to get closer, we let you know. This is Cynthia Simmons, live for CNN, at the Old Arsenal Barracks, Washington D.C..”

The day went by. On the sound of a bugle, the flag was lowered in the courtyard. It became dark. Spotlights were switched on, illuminating the four condemned in the courtyard. For some time, behind Captain Gallo, over twilight’s last gleaming, stood a crescent moon as a guard, watching the four doing their time on the cross, suffering, roaring and moaning.

Late than night, Lieutenant Warren came back to the courtyard. He did not approach Gallo, but looked from a distance. He saw her hanging quietly, with her head down. Then she shivered up. Warren could hear a cry of pain, despair and frustration. He understood she had been dozing. While falling asleep, muscles relax, but hers were constantly holding the weight of her hanging body. So, they strained immediately, waking her up over and over again. The cross does not allow its captives a rest.

Warren remembered their last talk, a few hours ago. About the bold words she had spoken then.

“Lieutenant, after all, hanging nailed to a cross does not differ that much from being in the army. Like the Army, the cross is harsh, possessive, demanding, treating and it makes and takes your whole life.”

Warren had informed to her motifs to subject herself to the ordeal of crucifixion. She had warned him then that, if he would get such thoughts, he would better quit his job, or he would soon ended up crucified himself.

“Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori, Lieutenant. It’ sweet and right to die for your country. That’s what I am doing now!.”

“What do you mean? Do not tell me you are enjoying this?”

“I have to tell you something, Lieutenant. After I was hit by that missile in Iraq, with the compliments of Prescotte senior, the doctors have told me that each of these minute shrapnel particles, which they could not remove from my body, without tearing my flesh apart, was a time bomb. If one particle would go on the move through my body, it could end up anywhere, in my brain, in my lungs, and do irreversible harm there. It could cause a quick death, but more likely paralyze me or slowly disable and degrade me, or let me live like a plant or so. They gave me ten years, it got eighteen. All these years, I have lived in fear, and anytime I felt something unusual in my body, I got afraid my time had come. The thought sometimes dove me nearly mad. Not to mention the pain I sometimes had to endure from my war wounds. So, after all, what difference does it make to get killed, by a minute steel shrapnel or a six inch steel nail, both US made by the way? The Army has crucified me already eighteen years ago! This is just the last stage of it. Take that as an explanation, Lieutenant.
The only other way for me was to put on an ammunition belt under my uniform, approach General Prescotte and blow us up together. That was an option, Lieutenant!, A quick one! I would have done it!”

“Seriously..!? You folks didn’t intend to…!?”

“Does not matter… anymore! Those involved are dead or dying….Tomorrow will be tough! A dog day ending with thunderstorms they say!” Despair was in her voice again.

She collapsed. Visibly tired and exhausted. Shortly after, Warren was called for other duties.

Warren kept contemplating her words. As an onlooker from a distance, in the dark, he was fascinated by the remarkable aesthetics of the scene. He saw her quieting again. It looked like a peaceful scenery. Warren knew the reality was different. Her pain, her moaning, her despair, her tormented look, her sunburned skin, the smell ,.. Dulce et decorum? Linda Gallo’s agony had to begin yet.
The light from the spots made her skin look greyish white. Like marble. The crucified Venus de Milo. A goddess on the cross.
“Once you get such thoughts, you better quit this job!” she had said. He had not told her, but he was about to quit. In his left pocket, he had a little box. It contained sets of double silver bars. He still had time to put these insignia on his uniform. In his right pocket was the combat assignment to Afghanistan for Captain Douglas Macarthur Warren jr., on his own request. In twenty-four hours he would be there, amidst hell. Kabul was under siege. Some compared it with the Tet-offensive in Vietnam, but officially, such was denied.

He had no choice. Gallo was right, the Army was is harsh, possessive, demanding, treating and it makes and takes your whole life. But it was a home, and Warren wanted to stay in that big home. He had nowhere else to go. But he wanted to keep looking his homemates in the face. Confronted with all these fine soldiers who had chosen to get themselves crucified to save their honor, confronted with their courage and determination to endure the excruciating pain and the days of agony of the cross, he felt himself more and more like a coward. Going to battle had become a matter of honor, for him, and luckily, he finally got the doctors so far to let him go. And if it would end up ‘dolce et decorum’ for him, then so let it be.

He saw Linda’s head slowly niddle-noddle forward. For a short while, she kept hanging quiet, but then she brutally awoke again with a loud cry. She shook her head a few times, moved her body, in search of less discomfort, and then she quietened once more.

Warren could not stop watching her. Still wondering what kind of a home Linda Gallo had been looking for, the day she had joined the Army.

THE END
 
A fine story Loxuru, a splendid memorial to Hammerlock -
thanks for all you've put into it.
If you've got it in a WordDoc or pdf,
we'll certainly put it in the Archive.
 
Very, very well done, Loxuru!

I hope that we'll see more writing from you, this has been a real tour de force!
 
Yes, very well done. Captivating in all its sections, and with well-developed characters.
 
A fine story Loxuru, a splendid memorial to Hammerlock -
thanks for all you've put into it.
If you've got it in a WordDoc or pdf,
we'll certainly put it in the Archive.
of course as Hammerlock's memorial-watcher I have the pdf but waited for some illustrations
 
Gallo first felt embarrassed about her surrender (specifically while Prescotte was watching her moves). But on the other hand she was relieved that she could have at least a brief rest and that she could breathe rather normally. It made her aware again, of her surroundings, of the onlookers, of her companions, who soon also gave up their resistance. And aware of the events soon to come.

This is powerful stuff, Loxuru. Great work, you've done a marvelous job on the visceral and anticipatory aspects of the experience. I think the passage above really captures the shame of crucifixion, the shame of the cornu especially. The need to do what you have to do to get through each moment, knowing that every humiliating second is played out in front of an audience.
 
An excellent story Loxuru, made more intense for me by being so ordinary except the ability to preserve honour by volunteering for crucifixion. I love getting immersed in a totally dystopian world like Eulalia's IPCG and Darkness Monger's follow-up, also Pkin's Sports Academy, but these are so far removed from my reality that they stay as pure fantasy. Your story, while hopefully forever a fantasy, had so much normality I began to think this could happen in 5 years time. I doubt I'll ever think of the US Army the same way.
 
so far removed from my reality that they stay as pure fantasy.
I very much agree with what you say about the chilling 'normality' of Loxuru's story,
I'll mention though that pretty well all the (very many) tortures that I inflicted on my heroine and other girls in IPCG
(except their final crucifixion) were based on ones that were actually used, in the 1960s - 80s,
mainly by military juntas in Latin America, but some by nasty regimes in other parts of the world too.
 
An excellent story Loxuru, made more intense for me by being so ordinary except the ability to preserve honour by volunteering for crucifixion. I love getting immersed in a totally dystopian world like Eulalia's IPCG and Darkness Monger's follow-up, also Pkin's Sports Academy, but these are so far removed from my reality that they stay as pure fantasy. Your story, while hopefully forever a fantasy, had so much normality I began to think this could happen in 5 years time. I doubt I'll ever think of the US Army the same way.
Well, in a sense, all concepts such as justice, nobility, and honour are a kind of fantasy. They do not exist tangibly. We only share some level of belief about how much they exist.
 
Everybody thanks very much for the likes and the comments on this story.

Off course, it all started with Hammerlock's great idea.

If you've got it in a WordDoc or pdf,
we'll certainly put it in the Archive.

I can do this. Do I post the file just like a pic?

I have the pdf but waited for some illustrations

I made a quicky, borrowing a pic from CMCK. The background (from John Singer Sargent) is from another army from another war. But somehow, miltary honor is universal. That's what makes them march.

hon1.jpg
 
So now we owe a debt of thanks to not one but two brilliant authors; thank you so much, then, to both Hammerlock(posthumously)and Loxuru. We see that despite the necessary author switch the story never skipped a beat, and that makes the work that much more remarkable. Of course, this tale, as we see, sets new ground for the two decorated crucifees, Karen and Linda. I wonder, in my own impish way, if the medals were by any chance pinned to the dead bodies of the two women. Either way, you can bet your last denarius this never happened in the ancient Roman army!
 
A MATTER OF HONOR (part 4) A continuation of an unfinished story started by Hammerlock in 2011.

It was late in the night, but Karyn could not sleep. In her death row cell, the light was never switched off. At such moments, in the quiet of the night, in her noise-tight cell, she was often engulfed by doubts and fear. But she had no choice. Death by the firing squad was a quick death, and even not dishonorable as such. Compared to that, crucifixion would be a terrible agony. But the quick death of the firing squad would her only be granted after a humiliating public ceremony during which they would demote her by ripping off her insignia of rank. Then they would dishonorably discharge her, by ripping off all the buttons and all her unit and other insignia from her uniform. Finally she would have to file off between the ‘walls of shame’, between two rows of soldiers turning their back towards her. Only after all that, she would be granted to be shot.
"Counsel, have you informed your client of the facts of her request?" The judge had asked to Peter
"Yes, your honor, I have done so. She remains adamant in her choice."


Indeed he had informed her. Initially he had tried by all means to dissuade her. It had resulted into a violent argument between them.
“Sergeant Greylocke! What do you think you are doing?”
“This is my choice, Lieutenant Fortuna! And I insist you do not attempt to pull rank on me in this issue, Lieutenant, Sir!”
“Right! Right! Karyn! Anyway, it is the most stupid idea ever! What do you think crucifixion is about? Some kind of transcendental meditation? It is a terrible and slow death! It is a hell of a choice you want to make. Literally! And as your counsel, I have the duty to protect you against yourself! You should appeal against the verdict!”
“That would be meaningless!”
“In the past, there have been cases…!”
“Counsel! I know, and you know too, that the military appeal courts never, I repeat, never, turn down recent verdicts, because they fear it would undermine the authority of military justice! The cases you likely have in mind were only reconsidered after decades, when all the people involved were dead, so that no reputations, no careers or no authority could be damaged! Right!?”
“The incident you were involved in, is still under investigation…!”
“But in the meantime there is already a court-martial verdict! You know well how it works, the conclusions of the investigation will never challenge the verdict, and the appeal court will rely on the conclusions of the investigation. These institutions protect each other’s authority, and I am stuck in it!”
“Yes, yes, you are probably right! But what point do you want to make? Honor is an important value in the military, but is it worthwhile to get yourself subjected to such a terrible ordeal? That is futile!”
“It has to do with Prescotte! I don’t want him to win!”
“Karyn, I still hope Captain Prescotte will not get away with giving that order, that is right. But that is another case. Anyway, I have heard that he has the reputation of being a very good field commander, so…”
“I told you already! He is reckless. He achieves his combat targets by aggressive action! But he performs only when he feels he has the initiative and the control. If not, he messes up and brings lives into danger. Like that action in Afghanistan. That was a very confusing one. In such moments, he turns against women under his command. There was no threat from that hut, the enemy fire came from elsewhere. But Prescotte hates women in the military, and he tries to squeeze them out, by confronting them with dilemma’s : moral values against discipline. And if it suits him, he then blames them for his failure!”
“I hope you don’t intend to become a martyr?”
“No, but, after all, by my refusal to carry out the order to kill innocent and unarmed women and children, I saved the honor of the whole Army. I am aware I made a severe breach of discipline, unacceptable in a combat situation, and I am ready to accept the consequences of my action. But under the terms of honor they allow me! I do it for myself and my family! They may strip me of my uniform, but not of my rank! They may nail me, but they shall not fire me! That is my point of honor, counsel! And if, as a collateral benefit, I can save lives by doing it, the better it is!”
“All right! All right! I will arrange an appointment with the judge!”

Had she convinced him to accept het choice, or had it been the judge’s unexpected revelation about Captain Prescotte's conduct? About how the father was protecting his son and about the uprising 'conspiracy' in the military justice against it? Anyway, after the talk with the judge, Peter had promised her that he would no longer try to oppose her choice, although he obviously would continue to perform his duties as her defense counsel, and try to fight the verdict itself by all legal means. But both knew there was little time.

Karyn had made her choice. Throughout history, being executed by crucifixion has always been considered as a dishonorable punishment. Ironically, in the Ancient military, crucifixion was often applied to deserters, insubordinates, mutineers,…. In other words, for the same kind of severe offenses against discipline as she had been sentenced for.

So, why had the US military made this strange twist of logic, and allowed its condemned to death to opt voluntarily for crucifixion? Because the Afghan and other rebels they had been fighting during the last years, had regularly executed their POW’s by crucifixion, particularly in case of captured officers and NCO’s. All soldiers knew it was the risk they faced over there. The numerous posts put on the internet by the rebels, of US military men and women, suffering naked on their crosses for hours, in the heat of the desert, had given a true blow to the moral, as it suddenly seemed that the army was no longer able to protect its troops from such savage harms. Suddenly there were numerous desertions and mutinies, resulting into even numerous demotions and dishonorable discharges. The court-martials became more severe in their verdicts, and for infractions against discipline in combat, death sentences became more and more the rule, as well as executions on the spot of deserters and insubordinates.

Finally, the military issued an order, that those condemned to death by US court-martials for desertion, insubordination, mutiny,…, were given the opportunity to opt for a solution that would allow them to keep their rank and ultimately avoid dishonorable discharge. By volunteering for execution by crucifixion, as if they would have been captured by the enemy. As a last opportunity granted by the military, to show that they were no cowards, that they were ready to face the risks of combat against the invisible enemy in Afghanistan. Off course, for many, there was more at stake in this choice. Close surviving relatives of someone who gave his or her life in the service of the country, were granted the payment of a life insurance and a pension by the US government. But the relatives of a service member that had been dishonorably discharged, and then been executed, were deprived from these benefits. They even got charged with the bill for the execution and burial.

On Friday the 10th of July, 2020, Karyn was informed that her request had been approved by the Office of the Court-martial General. Karyn would die as a sergeant, as a service member of the US army, and hence she would save herself and her family from disgrace. The execution would take place ultimately within a week. Little time left, indeed!

(to be continued)

Superb. “They may nail me, but they may not fire me.” Thanks for the great work in continuing this story.
 
Madiosi-2019-201-Matter01.jpg
"The defendant will rise," intoned the judge, as he took his seat behind the high bench. The members of the jury, all fully-uniformed members of the various military groups, finished filing in and took their seats. Karyn Greylocke and her court-appointed attorney, a young Navy lawyer named Peter Fortuna, rose and faced the bench. Karyn was dressed in her best army uniform, her black hair pulled back in a French braid; she nervously fidgeted with her hands as she waited for the court-martial judge to hand down his sentence.
 
"Counselor, have you informed your client of the facts of her request?" the judge asked, seated behind his desk in his plush office. Facing him sat Karyn and Fortuna, Peter in his dress uniform, Karyn in her bright orange prison jumpsuit. Karyn's hands were manacled to a chain around her waist, and her bare feet were shackled together with enough chain to allow her to walk.
Madiosi-2019-202-Matter02.jpg
"Yes, your honor, I have done so. She remains adamant in her choice."
 
Back
Top Bottom