Rules of Engagement

Chapter 44

Brad donned his tunic and adjusted his tie, then glanced at his watch for the fourth time in ten minutes. He dreaded the next few hours more than he had ever feared anything.

Turning, he saw Leigh Ann smooth her conservative suit. She, too, looked nervous. How different from the sensuous, confident woman he had known in bed.

"Leigh Ann, you don't have to attend this hearing. It's closed door, and you may have to sit outside for who knows how long."

She walked to Brad, then kissed him, careful not to disturb his uniform. "I happen to be in love with you, and I want to be by your side, or as close as possible."

"Okay," Brad replied, looking at his watch. "It's time to go to the gallows."

Arriving fifteen minutes early, Brad and Leigh Ann walked up the steps to the imposing building. After Austin identified himself, he and Leigh Ann were allowed to go to the area outside of the room where the hearing would take place.

They took seats outside the room, and silently watched a number of people shuffle in and out of the hearing chamber.

Brad started to speak to Leigh Ann, then stopped abruptly. Ogilvie, from the State Department, accompanied by Captain Emmett from CINCPAC were approaching them.

"Great," Brad said quietly to Leigh Ann, "here come the two sweethearts who grilled me on the ship."

"Who are they?"

"I'll tell you later."

Emmett sat down without acknowledging Austin, while Ogilvie, wearing the same rumpled suit he had worn on the carrier, walked toward the couple. Brad rose to face him.

"Captain," Ogilvie said testily, "you've opened a real can of worms, and you're going to rue the day you blew the whistle."

Bristling, Brad thrust out his jaw but refrained from replying. Ogilvie spun around and rejoined Emmett.

Precisely at 10 A. M., the doors were closed. The waiting area became as quiet as a tomb. Ten minutes later, Brad was called into the hearing.

Ushered to a long table, Brad stated his full name, then remained standing and swore to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. He observed Arlin Kerwin, who reminded him of a simpleminded country humorist he had seen on television. Appearances, Brad thought, can be deceiving.

"Son," Kerwin said in a friendly, fatherly manner, "we're here today to establish exactly what happened at Phuc Yen, and why there is an ongoing attempt to conceal what happened."

Brad silently nodded.

"There aren't any members of the service present," Kerwin continued in a congenial tone, "so you needn't be intimidated. I want you to tell this committee precisely what happened, and what consequences you faced. We are going to get to the bottom of this matter, so don't leave anything out. I've got the dates, so just tell us the facts."

Clearing his throat, Brad fixed his eyes on the chairman of the Armed Services Committee. "Senator, I was flying as wingman in a two-plane section. We were providing combat air patrol for a strike group when we were attacked by three MiGs, one of which was flown by North Vietnam's second-leading ace, Major Nguyen Thanh Dao."

A lanky senator whom Brad recognized pointed a finger at him. "How could you tell who was flying the planes?"

Brad saw a look of irritation cross Kerwin's face, but he remained quiet.

"We had had briefs on the aircraft markings of various North Vietnamese pilots. Major Dao's aircraft was readily distinguishable by the white stripe on the tail, and the seven red stars on the fuselage, signifying seven American aircraft shot down. Plus, you could tell by the way he handled his aircraft. He was definitely one of the better pilots."

"Continue, Captain," Kerwin said, glancing at the tall senator.

Brad swallowed. "We engaged the MiGs, and during the battle, Major Dao shot down my flight leader, Lieutenant Commander Lincoln Durham. I was initially stunned, then outraged." Brad paused, carefully selecting his words. "I made an instantaneous decision to pursue Major Dao and destroy his aircraft before he could land at a restricted airfield."

The contentious senator leaned next to his microphone. "Can you define restricted airfield for us?"

"Yessir, to the best of my understanding of the rules of engagement on that particular date."

Brad sensed the members of the committee staring at him. "If we were engaged in battle, we could overfly an off-limits airfield. However, we were not authorized to attack the airfield or the aircraft on the ground."

Kerwin wrote a note. "Please proceed."

Taking a deep breath, Brad concentrated on Kerwin. "I shot down Major Dao over the airfield at Phuc Yen, a designated off-limits airfield, and proceeded to destroy a MiG on the ground. I violated a restriction and did not report the fact."

The tall senator's eyes narrowed. "Why did you think that you had the authority to operate like a loose cannon?"

A hush settled over the large room.

"I didn't feel that I had the authority to operate on my own." Brad was boiling inside but showed little outwardly. "In the heat of battle, with my life on the line and my adrenaline pumping, I fired a missile at a MiG taxiing for takeoff without analyzing the ramifications of my actions."

"Perhaps, Captain Austin," the combative lawmaker said in a surly manner, "you should seek some other profession that will allow you the time to think before you act."

Kerwin responded before Brad could form a civilized answer. "We are not here to discuss Captain Austin's qualifications, or question his actions. He has demonstrated his capabilities by destroying three MiGs. I think that tells it all."

Brad was surprised that the chairman knew about all three MiGs, then realized that the senator probably knew his life history. "What we are trying to do," Kerwin continued, "is find out why his actions were censored.

"Then what happened, Captain?" the chairman asked, removing his glasses.

"After what I had done had been revealed, I was confined to quarters, along with my backseat radar operator. We were informed that an investigation would take place."

Kerwin replaced his glasses. "And did an investigation take place?"

"Yes, Senator. On board the ship."

"And what was the outcome?"

Brad steeled himself. "We were informed that we would not be court-martialed and that the matter was being shelved."

Kerwin leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. "What were you told, and who told you?"

"We were informed," Brad said evenly, "that the incident had never happened, and that it would be in our best interest to keep it that way."

Showing no emotion, Kerwin wrote another note. "Was there a reason given?"

"Yessir," Brad replied uncomfortably. "We were told that my incursion, if admitted, might compromise expected negotiations with the North Vietnamese."

"Who informed you of that finding?"

Brad's stomach knotted. "The State Department representative waiting outside in the hall." A murmur filled the room. Kerwin paused, consulting his notes. "A Mister Ogilvie?" "Yes, sir."

"Did he give you a reason — tell you who initiated the cover-up?"

Brad hesitated, unsure how far he should go. "Mister Ogilvie explained that the decision had originated in the White House."

Kerwin locked Brad in an unblinking stare. "Is that unconditionally true?"

"Yes, it is, Senator, to the best of my recollection. I don't remember his exact wording, but he clearly stated that the decision came from the White House." The tension in the room was palpable.

"Okay, son," Kerwin said, smiling pleasantly, "tell us about your feelings, and those of your colleagues, about how the war is progressing — how it's being managed."

Throwing caution to the wind, Brad drew a breath and placed his folded hands on the table.

"Senator, I can only speak for myself, but I'm sure that the majority of the aircrews would express the same feelings. I feel that the air war is being micromanaged to the detriment of everyone. Targets are apparently considered for the effect they will have on the media, and what the general public will think. We are being forced to operate under restrictions and limitations that completely negate our efforts, while more aircrews are being sacrificed.

"We bomb, then back off while more restrictions are shoved down our throats. Every new sanctuary becomes a haven for North Vietnamese antiaircraft guns, surface-to-air missiles, and ground-controlled radar."

Brad slowed, keeping his emotions in check. "Senator, we have been shocked by the missions that we have been ordered to fly. It's obvious to all of the aircrews that the targets, weapons and aircraft used, and routes to and from the target areas are not being selected by military planners." The members of the committee were riveted by Brad's solemn testimony.

Brad looked from one end of the table to the other, then back to Arlin Kerwin. "Gentlemen, we are being sold down the river."

Kerwin removed his glasses and placed them in his pocket. "Captain Austin, this committee appreciates your cooperation, and your candid remarks."

Brad remained silent.

"We will take a ten-minute break," Kerwin announced, then rose, "and then reconvene."

Sliding his chair back, Brad saw the chairman approaching him. The senator motioned him to the side. "Son, I admire you for your forthrightness. You have been very helpful."

"Thank you, Senator. This has been one of the most difficult things I have ever faced."

Kerwin tilted his head and lowered his voice. "I don't want you to worry about anything. My job is to make sure that you can do your job."

"I appreciate that, Senator."

"I'll tell you something," Kerwin said with a knowing smile. "There is a young lady who thinks mighty highly of you."

Brad beamed. "The feeling is mutual, sir. She's right outside."

Kerwin's surprise showed on his face. "Is she?" He had a moment of doubt. "Well, I'm afraid, under the circumstances, that I'll just have to have you give her my best."

"I understand, sir."

Kerwin patted Brad on the shoulder. "Now, you get on out of here, and take good care of that young lady. She is a special little gal."

Brad shook Arlin Kerwin's hand. "Thank you, Senator Kerwin, on behalf of both of us."

Austin reached for his cap, then walked out the door. He remained expressionless as he and Leigh Ann silently walked past the State Department and CINCPAC representatives.

Once outside, Brad took Leigh Ann's hand as they walked down the steps. "Everything seems to be okay as far as my screwup is concerned."

"That's wonderful," she said gleefully. "I'm so happy for you." "I think," Brad replied cautiously, "as far as I can tell, that I'm just a piece of the bait."

Leigh Ann looked perplexed. "What do you mean by that?"

As they reached the sidewalk, Brad stepped around her to be next to the curb. "I think," Brad said, saluting a navy lieutenant commander, "that Senator Kerwin is one of a number of influential people who are concerned about the prosecution of this war. How it's being managed or, more to the point, mismanaged." Brad glanced at Leigh Ann. "They're trying to sort out the lies that cover the duplicity that conceals the falsehoods."

Hugging his arm, Leigh Ann looked up. "Are you free to go — to leave town?"

"Absolutely. I was simply cannon fodder."

"You are not cannon fodder," she admonished, placing her arm around his waist. "Where shall we go?"

"Well," Brad chuckled, "technically, I should return to San Diego, but what the hell. My career is down the tube, and I'm probably a terminal captain."

She smiled coyly. "What are you suggesting, Captain Terminal?"

"How about if we stop at Lake Tahoe, en route to San Diego?" "I'd love to," she laughed mischievously. "We could stop in Las Vegas, and get married."

Wide-eyed, Brad came to a halt and looked at Leigh Ann. She burst out laughing. "I'm kidding. Just a little humor, flyboy."

Then they were both surprised to hear a voice behind them. "Captain Austin, is that you?"

They turned around to see the lieutenant commander they had just passed. He was walking toward them.

Brad came to attention, saluted again, and said, "Yes, sir." A questioning look crossed Brad's face.

"You don't know me, but I'm Lou Metcalf of the Navy's Congressional Liaison staff. I was hoping to catch you before you left the hearing. I've been asked to tell you that the CNO, acting on Senator Kerwin's request, has directed the Marine Commandant to write you up for a Silver Star for your gallantry in combat. It will be presented to you in San Diego when you arrive there."

"Pardon me, Commander," Brad stammered, "but I'm confused. I wouldn't think that the Navy would want me around after this debacle and the testimony I just gave."

"Not at all," Metcalf replied. "You are exactly the kind of aggressive aviator that the CNO and Commandant really want. You'll be reassigned to the Marines in Da Nang to complete your tour. After that, who knows?" Metcalf smiled. "But, I'll bet you can write your next orders after this tour in Vietnam. Just try not to get killed or captured."

Leigh Ann was listening intently. She looked straight at Metcalf. "What's the Silver Star?"

"Your guy just earned the nation's third-highest award for valor."

Brad shook Metcalf's hand, almost pulling his arm from its socket, then he engulfed Leigh Ann in an immense bear hug. "Leigh Ann, under the circumstances, we had better bypass Tahoe and go straight to San Diego."

Filled with pride and relief, Leigh Ann nodded yes. "Things," Brad smiled, "have a different tint all of a sudden." Metcalf grinned and shook his head as he watched the happy young couple rush hand in hand to the taxi stand.