Shad rises. “The State calls Major Matthew M. Powers, United States Air Force, Retired.”
This time, when the back door of the courtroom opens, my father turns in his chair and rises to see over the crowd of spectators. The bloodless cast of his face looks like that of a man who has seen the dead walk.
Powers must be the man from Ohio, I think.
Though he must be over seventy, Major Powers strides to the witness box with the assured gait of a man ten years younger. He still has all his hair, close cropped and iron gray, and his eyes are clear and blue. He wears a gray suit over a white dress shirt and narrow black tie.
As he’s sworn in, I sense that my father has been bowled over by his appearance. Twice Dad has bent his head and whispered something to Quentin, but Quentin just patted his arm in reassurance. I have a feeling that Quentin—along with my father—is about to pay the price for not requesting discovery.
“Major Powers,” Shad begins, “do you know the defendant in this case, Dr. Tom Cage?”
“I do. Or I did, long ago.”
“When did you meet him?”
“On one occasion. November thirtieth, 1950.”
“And where was this?”
“Beside a road in North Korea, southwest of the Chosin Reservoir.”
Even before Major Powers finishes his answer, I know that nothing he could tell us about something that happened during the Korean War is admissible as evidence in this case. It must fall under the heading of “prior bad acts.” Yet Quentin shows no sign of preparing to object. It’s all I can do not to get to my feet and do it myself.
“What were you doing there at that place and time?” Shad asks the major.
“I had been flying a Lockheed Shooting Star for the air force. The F80 was designed as an air-to-air fighter, but on November twenty-fifth the Chinese troops that had secretly flooded over the border hit the Second Division and overran all the American positions, so we were pressed into service in a ground support role—”
“Penn?” whispers my mother. “They shouldn’t be able to bring Korea into this trial, should they?”
“No.”
“Then why doesn’t Quentin stop Johnson?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why doesn’t Tom tell him to stop this?”
Mom’s right. Quentin should be objecting like crazy. Yet even though Judge Elder knows this testimony should be inadmissible, he wants to hear what Major Powers has to say. The jury does, too. That’s why Quentin isn’t objecting. He doesn’t want to be seen as trying to hide any part of the truth. By refusing to protest, he’s saying, We’re all here to get to the bottom of things, so to hell with the rules. We’re not afraid of what anybody has to say.
“I think Dad and Quentin are on the same page, Mom.”
“Then you’ve got to stop it.”
“I can’t,” I whisper.
“You’re on the legal team, aren’t you?”
“Technically.”
“Then object!”
“Dad doesn’t want me to do that.”
“I want you to. I’m telling you to do it. Your father’s not thinking straight.”
“And how did you come to meet Dr. Cage in Korea?” Shad asks from the podium.
“Mom, I’ll help you get Quentin fired at the next recess, but I’m not going to create a scene that might be damaging to Dad by getting into a fight with Quentin in front of the jury.”
She closes her eyes as though to block out the exchange occurring before her.
“On November twenty-eighth,” answers the major, “my aircraft was hit by ground fire, and I had to crash-land the plane. Chinese troops were trying to get to me when some stragglers from a shattered American infantry unit pulled me out of the cockpit and took me with them.
“I’d sustained serious injuries to my legs, but with the massive attack under way, there was no way to get me to a MASH unit, or even a collecting station. The marines had been hit at Chosin Reservoir by this time, and they were holding up pretty well, but the army was in chaos across the peninsula. There was only one road leading south through the mountains from the Eighth Army’s Ch’ongch’on River positions. After some hours, I was loaded into a box ambulance that was part of a massive convoy trying to retreat down that road. We could only move vehicles in small groups because the Chinese controlled the high ground on both sides of the pass, which had become known as the Gauntlet.”
“Please continue.”
“Dr. Cage was the medic tending the wounded in the back of the ambulance. Conditions in the vehicle were pretty horrific. Men lying above were defecating and urinating on the men below them. Not what you’d expect in the American army. There were seven other wounded, plus myself. They were from two army units that had been virtually wiped out. Anyway, our turn to run the Gauntlet came after midnight on November thirtieth. I guess that makes it December first. About ten minutes into our run, Chinese machine guns opened up from both sides of the road. Our driver was hit, along with some of the wounded, and the ambulance went over the shoulder and rolled two hundred feet into a gorge.”
Major Powers has the jury; nothing rivets civilians like a true war story. But I have a feeling my father isn’t the hero of this tale.
“Were any soldiers killed during this incident?” Shad asks.
“Yes. Two by gunfire, and two more by the subsequent crash. The driver sustained serious injuries and was trapped under the steering wheel.”
“Do you know what the driver’s name was?”
“Yes. Private Walter Garrity.”
Shad glances over his shoulder as though looking for Walt. Major Powers follows his gaze. I do, too, but I see no sign of my old friend.
“What happened after the ambulance came to a stop?” Shad asks.
“When the smoke cleared, five men were left alive in back, including myself and Private Cage. Cage checked the condition of the driver, who was screaming in pain.”
“What was the condition of the other men?”
“Dire. They were moaning more than screaming, I guess. They’d all been gravely wounded before being loaded into the ambulance. The accident only aggravated their injuries.”
“But they were conscious?”
“All but one. He had a head wound, and he was in and out. Everyone was in shock at this time.”
“What happened next?”
“Private Cage freed the driver from the front, which was a painful ordeal. Private Garrity turned out to be a medic as well. At this point, both medics climbed into the back and assessed the wounded. It was obvious that none of the survivors could move under our own power, or bear stretchers. One of the boys’ legs had been shattered by bullets. Another was paralyzed from the waist down. Private Cage then told Private Garrity that he was going to try to climb back up to the road and get help. Private Cage had some minor wounds from an earlier engagement, but he was the only man healthy enough to make the attempt.”
“What happened next?”
“Cage left the ambulance, then returned approximately forty minutes later. He said that the only American vehicles left on the road were wrecks filled with dead, and the Chinese on the heights were still firing at anything that moved.”