Back in "my
day" it was called P.L.D.C. - Primary Leadership Development Course. Now they call the training "Basic Leader
Course".
The six-week long
school is meant to take the lowest level army Non-Commissioned Officer (NCO)
like a corporal or buck sergeant and instruct them on the skills of leading a
team or squad in battle.
If you see a soldier
with this ribbon on his or her chest they have been through the school.
If it comes with a
number then they have also been to the higher levels of leadership training
reflective of the number.
I attended in a very
unique place, a converted WWII prisoner of war camp in the desert outside of El
Paso, Texas. A part of Fort Bliss it is also the home of the army's Sergeant
Major Academy.
You have to pass the
PLDC course if you want your career to continue past the lowest level of NCO;
so you keep your head down, pay attention, study, do what your told, and apply
yourself.
I was about
two-thirds of the way through this course when in an after lunch formation the
head instructor called my name out and instructed me to stay behind for a
meeting after the rest of the students went onto their afternoon activities.
I had no idea what
was going on and if you are thinking that I was expected to be informed of a
death in the family or other such notice your right; I mean this is the way
these notices are generally given.
The head instructor,
a sergeant major in his own right, approached me, gave me the once over as I
stood at attention and with a puzzled look on his face instructed me that I was
wanted in the Academy Sergeant Major's office right away.
From the way he
looked me over I thought maybe I was in trouble.
I arrived at the
Sergeant Major's office and knocked on the door jam as the office door was
already open. I'm sure my twenty-year-old face looked somewhat like a lost
puppy because not only was the Sergeant Major there, but the full-bird colonel
who was the commandant of the PLDC and Sergeant Major's academy along with two
civilians in suites.
I was standing at
attention on the outside but on the inside my mind was running at a hundred
miles an hour.
"Sergeant
Harris", began the Sergeant Major, "these two men are from the Texas
Rangers".
Now this was late
1983, Chuck Norris' show wouldn't be on TV for another ten years so all I knew
about Texas Rangers was from stories and of course the masked-man on horseback
from radio and TV shows.
"Stand
at-ease", the Sergeant Major allowed.
I relaxed a bit; the
thought then went through my brain that this is a leadership school, can't let
my military superiors know I'm a bit rattled… time for a bit of a 'take charge'
attitude.
"Mr.
Harris?", asked one of the suited men as he pulled back his jacket enough
to show the silver-dollar sized badge pinned to his shirt.
"I am Sergeant
Harris", was my retort.
"Sergeant, I'm
told you are roommates with Staff Sergeant Lucas Garrett," the Ranger
stated.
"It is a
temporary arrangement, sir, he is restricted to base as he and his family work
some things out," I said. Garrett
was a loud-mouth, quick tempered red head which, because of his course
personality, had no real friends. He worked a solitary job in the crypto vault
which was manned by a single individual. The vault is typically a job for a
lower ranked person, but it was the only place the First Sergeant could put him
and keep his personality in check.
"Are you or are
you not roommates with Sergeant Garrett?", the Sergeant Major questioned
with his command voice.
"Yes Sergeant
Major", was my retort. I faced the
senior sergeant and it dawned on me he wanted me to provide simple answers and
not volunteer any additional information.
My attention then
returned to the Ranger.
"Sergeant this
is a summons to appear in Supreme Court for the State of Texas in the case of
Texas vs. Lucas Garrett for the crime of murder, attempted murder and a number
of other charges."
He started to hand
the paperwork to the Colonel, but the Sergeant Major cut him off and took the
blue-covered folded packet.
At the time I was
assigned to the Headquarters Battery of the 2nd Battalion, 43rd ADA (Air
Defense Artillery), a Patriot Missile unit forming-up in Fort Bliss and
preparing to deploy to Germany. It was one of the very first Patriot Missile
Battalions and I was one of the three allotted communications NCOs.
This blue packet
might as well have been a baseball bat upside the head. For all the Sergeant
Major and Colonel knew I was involved somehow with a suspected murderer and
knowing how slow civilian courts move my unit would have to replace me so they
could deploy on time.
After the Sergeant
Major gave the paperwork the once over he handed the small stack to me. My
initial glance took my eyes from my name, to Garrett's name and then the dates
I was to report not to the court but to the District Attorney's office in El
Paso. The date was two months away.
The Colonel finally
spoke-up, "Can we help you with anything else gentlemen?"
"Nope,"
said the Ranger who passed the papers. He didn't say 'no sir', I think it was
his way of reinforcing the separation between civilian and military authority.
They put on their
hats and walked out.
"Dismissed
Sergeant," said the Sergeant Major.
I snapped to
attention, rendered the Colonel a salute which he returned, executed an
about-face and as smartly as I could left the office without it looking I was
running.
Walking up the hall
I unfolded the papers again. The date was after graduation so I could decided
to focus on finishing the course and worry about everything else when the time
came.
The rest of the
leadership course went without incident. In fact, I graduated in the top ten
which helped set me apart from my peers and served me well in the years to
come.
After graduation I
returned to my unit to find my orders to deploy with my unit were frozen.
Instead of getting my soldiers and equipment ready to deploy I was instead
working with a new sergeant handing over my responsibilities to him.
I was the odd-man
out. The only people who weren’t going to deploy was the women who were
pregnant and me, regardless of the reason it was truly a riff between myself
and everyone else in the battalion.
Staff Sergeant
Garrett wasn't in my room, but his messy stuff was still there. I had been
instructed not to move any of his items even though I knew the police and MPs
had already gone through everything in the room (including my stuff).
As the date of my
mandatory appointment arrived my First Sergeant sent me to the JAG office to
look over the paperwork and make sure everything was on the up-and-up. That
same day my unit started loading everything on trains and trucks for shipping
over the Atlantic. My fellow soldiers started to sign-out on leave so they
could spend time with their families before their flights to Germany.
I put on a
"Class B" uniform for my appointment with the District Attorney. Back
in those days you couldn't go off post in the green work uniform unless you
were in route to or from your home.
Aside from the
barrack rumors I still didn't know exactly what Staff Sergeant Garrett had
done. So with shinny shoes and flashy brass I headed to the city. I took a taxi
from the post because I didn't know the streets of El Paso proper and didn't
want to be late.
I didn't have to
wait once I arrived. I was ushered into a conference room where I was quickly
joined by six or seven guys wearing ties and all carrying a legal sized yellow
note pad along with various papers in folders. One of them had a copy of my
official military record, called a two-oh-one file (201) which surprised me a
little and immediately put me into a defensive mode.
As the meeting
progressed I found out why they were so happy I showed-up, I was being called
as a witness for the defense, not the prosecution; and now, here I was in a
room with the prosecutors.
Because my unit was
deploying and because I was his barracks roommate it was I who was chosen to be
a part of the defense dog-n-pony show. I was going to be expected to tell the
people in the jury and the judge how stressful it was to be the guy responsible
for all the top-secret crypto keys the Signal Corps used.
The group of lawyers
also brought me up to speed on exactly what Staff Sergeant Garrett had done.
One night in a
drunken state at home he had used a shotgun to kill his wife, then tried to use
a three-wheeled ATV to make his get way only to crash and start shooting it out
with the cops.
I knew he was a mean
drunk. The reason he was confined to the barracks was he had gotten drunk and
broke not one, but both of his wife's arms. I then understood why a Staff
Sergeant would be assigned to the crypto room; he was awaiting trial for
assaulting his wife and the army was waiting that out as they processed his
'other than honorable' discharge.
Now I was being drug
into the fray. I had been embarrassed in
front of a Sergeant Major and Colonel, had to relinquish my squad and
equipment, and wasn't going to Germany so I could help a less-than-honorable
son-of-a-bitch.
The man was guilty,
I was there to help the defense mitigate the punishment, to help mitigate a
death penalty.
Before the court
date arrived I had to move from my room in my unit's barracks to a temporary
housing building. My deployment orders had moved from frozen to canceled and
was bored out of my head.
I arrived at the
court house in my full "Class A" uniform. The few ribbons I had back
then, my expert marksmanship medal, brass and shoes shined. I was ushered to a
long hallway and asked to have a seat and not to talk to anyone else. This experience
isn't what it is like on TV; if you are a witness you can't be in the courtroom
so you can hear what others are saying, and there was an officer in the hallway
to make sure you didn't talk about the case with any other witnesses.
After an hour of so
I was called in and walked to the witness stand.
I stood at attention
while swearing to tell the truth. I sat at attention (yes, that's a thing) as
the questions started.
I answered the
questions the defense attorney asked about Staff Sergeant Garrett's job in the
crypto locker. The answers lead to other questions about the meaning of
"Confidential", "Secret" and "Top Secret".
When it was the
prosecutor's turn his questions turned to what it was to be a sergeant in the
army as opposed to being an officer.
Bear in mind I had
just graduated from the Primary Leadership Development Course where the role of
officers and non-commissioned officers (sergeants) was very much a part of the
circular. Not only was this information still fresh in my head I was an expert.
My whole purpose of
being there suddenly changed.
The judge had one of
those large pads brought to the front, today I guess they would use a
whiteboard. The court officer who brought it up handed me one black and one red
marker and I was instructed by the judge to explain to the jury the roles of
officers and sergeants and what was expected of them.
For the next thirty
minutes or so I held class, schooling the members of the jury about military
chain of command, what officers did and how sergeants executed their orders
while taking care of the troops, making sure they are informed and properly
trained, to function as a team and keep their motivation up so they can
accomplish the goals set by the officers.
The judge didn't
allow for any follow-up questions by either the prosecutor or defense. I have
no doubt the people who made up the jury along with anyone else in the court
room had a better understanding on how the military chain of command works.
When the trial was
over and "Mr. Garrett" had been sentenced to life in prison I
received my orders to Germany. Not to join my previous unit but to the 97th
Signal Battalion. I was being assigned to the group who put in the
communications for NATO Headquarters, a very prestigious assignment.
To this day I'm
proud that I was able to walk a group of civilians through how the military
chain-of-command works. It would be cool if this is was the only time it had
happened in a court of law. I search the Internet every once in a while for any
mention of the Garrett case, but I've yet to find out what happened to him or
transcripts of the trial itself.
