Jonas Agonistes

"We actually met Friday. I'm sort of dating his sister," I said.

"What do you mean, sort of?" asked Chris.

"Okay, I'm dating his sister," I said more definitely, and all three of us smiled.

"Well, Mr. Simms, you may sit anywhere in the gallery. I won't introduce you until the trial is over and the jury gives its verdict. We usually take about an hour for each side, then twenty minutes for the deliberation. Then we discuss the case and make comments. I'll introduce you at that point."

"I have some slides if you have a projector?" I said.

"Yes. This room is built for it. May I have them? I can set up the projector."

I handed them over.

Chris said, "I can't sit with you in the gallery because I'm in the jury on this one. Sorry."

"No problem, I'll just act like I belong here and watch how things go."

"Great," said the professor, and I made my way to a seat that would afford me a view yet keep me out of the public eye. Students were straggling in. Those with roles were in their trial clothes, suits. A student was even the judge, wearing a robe.

It looked and felt like a courtroom, and the students were quite serious. Apparently they held a lot of these as simulations for their learning value. It was impressive. I noticed that the prosecutor and the defense had copies of the documents, but not enhanced photos. The defense also had "Jeremiah in Agony" on her table. I found myself intrigued. Some students sat about me, but they knew one another and didn't seem surprised there was a visitor.

The trial was much shorter than it would have been in real life, but the important points were met. I was charged with disobedience and mutiny. I thought the case was made for both; however, the military always hedges its orders: only lawful orders should be obeyed. So the defense made its case by showing that the orders were followed to the point they became unlawful, and then were disobeyed. That mousy little girl with the sour disposition made a case for my side that I thought was powerful.

So did the jury. I was found not guilty, and I actually breathed a sigh of relief.

At that point the professor sent the role players into the gallery.

"Again we find someone not guilty! This is becoming a trend. I think I'd want you all for my jury," the professor said. "We'll proceed a little differently today as we have a special guest in attendance." Several students looked around, but as I was not the only visitor they searched on. "I was surprised to get a phone call from Chris Scott asking if it would be okay for Jonas Simms to sit in on the mock trial. I of course said of course. Jonas, if you would come down here and introduce yourself, please."

I made my way to the front of the room, feeling their eyes on me. I thanked the professor.

"Hello, I am Jonas Simms. I teach high school history and go to graduate school-I should get a master's in history next month at the University of Cincinnati. I flew out here because I spent two years wondering at my guilt with only a lawyer to talk to. I wanted to see how an impartial jury would have looked at the evidence, and I thank you for that. You know the novel that Col. Marx wrote is about the ordeal I have faced; I hope and think that your trial may help me better adjust to the facts of what I did. I was a little worried how I would feel if I had been found guilty. So I thank you for your help."

Dr. Wirtz then stepped forward, "Do you have any questions?" Hands went up all over. "They're not shy anymore. Just call on anyone."

"I only know one person besides Dr. Wirtz, so I'll just point."

I pointed to a girl on the right. "How do you know Chris Scott?"

I smiled. "Chris, you want to take that one?"

He called out, "He's dating my sister." Everyone laughed.

"Yeah, umm, you should know that she's shorter than Chris, and resentful," I said. Students smiled. I pointed to a guy who'd been in the jury.

"What is your agony, as the title indicates?"

I took a deep breath. There was something about the title that seemed overstated to me. Agony? To me it implied great suffering. Was that accurate? Was I suffering still? I said, "Guilt. I was pretty sure that the orders were dubious. The captain gave several signs that the mission was to kill everyone we could get out of the village into the field on the far side. 1st Platoon was supposed to discriminate between combatants and noncombatants. That is not easy to do if you intend to fire upon contact. I radioed them there were no combatants, but then they killed the entire first bunch to leave the village. 29 eventually. I forced those people into that field."

"Why didn't you refuse the order from the start?" That would have been the military way. But I thought I'd have been relieved and the mission would go ahead without my reservations meaning anything.

"I considered it. That is the official response to an order considered illegal. But. I'd be relieved and the mission would continue. The Marine Corps motto is always faithful. I suspected the order would not be followed correctly, but I had no evidence other than the battle excitement of my company commander. He wanted us to go in with 'guns ablazin'," if you remember that phrase. I identified the people as noncombatants. I..." My voice cracked-I shook my head and there was quiet for a moment.

"Sorry. I guess I answered that."

I pointed to the prosecutor, a guy who I thought had done a creditable job. "Did you spend any time in jail?"

"Yeah, I did. In the Marines and Navy it's called the brig. I was in the jail in Kabul and a brig on Camp Lejeune for a few weeks before they put me on base restriction. So yeah. It was tough telling Chris's parents I'd been in jail, you better believe." Laughter. I pointed to a guy in a pink shirt.

"What do Marines act like when they go into battle? I mean, are they afraid to move, or excited like it's the big game, or frantic, or what?"

"Uh, I've been asked this question before. I think you've kind of nailed it. I remember some helicopter insert I read of where they got all hyped up like before the big football game, because they expected to be shot at as soon as they got out. But I usually wanted my guys cool and calm, steely-eyed with determination. I don't like the whole guns ablazin' idea. Uh, there's a book by a guy about this very thing, in World War II anyway. 'The Warriors,' by J. Glenn Gray, I think. Another called 'The World Within War.' I can't remember the author's name. You might want to check them out."

Another followed on. "How is it you have references at hand that you can call up to answer a question like that? I mean, it was out of left field."

"The Marines teach about war. The Commandant has a recommended and mandatory reading list. Officers go to school for most of a year, some longer, learning weapons and tactics and leadership. We study. It's like graduate school, but constant and concentrated."

I pointed to an older woman, who I had noticed watching the trial but taking no part. "Do you have any psychological issues stemming from the murder of so many innocents?"

I asked, "What do you mean?"

She said, "Any PTSD or other issues?"

"Yes. Nightmares. And I did not remember the events surrounding the little girl, even when I read them in the official statements and the novel. After reading the novel I could not remember the part about the little girl in the novel. These memories came back in therapy. Recently." I stopped then, having faced a bogeyman. I spoke but no sound came for a moment. I held up my hand.

"Oh, and you said innocents. I am not sure all of them were innocent. I mean a kid is by definition, I think. But the women...their husbands were absent. Possibly fighting with the Taliban, working for them. Noncombatants often support the enemy. No one ran up to us and said, My husband is fighting with the Taliban and he's hiding one klick away. No one pointed out a weapons cache. There is no reason to think they were our friends. This village was in a Taliban area. But they were all noncombatants, and that should be enough to secure their lives."

The woman and a few others were nodding.

I pointed to a guy in the audience. "Do you believe that this atrocity could have been prevented?"

"Yes. For some reason, sometimes, there is an overconfidence in the accuracy of intelligence. Sometimes by those in the field. We did not find weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. And in this case, we found no combatants in al Gatar. Someone in the chain of command should have said no, especially once the lack of identifiable enemy was reported."

I pointed to the defense attorney. "Why weren't the company commander and the 1st Platoon commander charged with crimes?"

"I don't know if they were even considered at issue. The company commander was promoted soon after al Gatar, and was congratulated for a great victory, I understand. I was not there, that is what I heard over time. The First Platoon commander was probably my best friend. We have not spoken since the night before the attack. His family is big in politics; my lawyer wondered if that had something to do with it. His dad is in the Senate."

"Professor? Ready with the projector? One of my men, against rules, used his cell phone to take some pictures that day. Oh, good. I just got these from Col. Marx when he defended me in front of the school board where I teach. I hope they are in order. Lights down some? Great on-the-fly technical improvisation at Stanford law." The first came up.

"That's the first he took. If you look you can see the field with women and children ... the guy with the missing foot there with an old man. I'm off to the right just out of the picture, 15 feet or so from that building. Next picture please." It came up. "In the original it is too fuzzy to make out the dead old guy, but here you can see they have both been killed and the building is a shambles. I ordered us back at this point. I also ordered us to return fire so we could make it. Next please."

"That is me on the right with a kid. In the back you see Turbo holding a woman under his arm and shooting toward the machine gun that was firing at us. He says he killed them; I don't see how he could have under such duress but about this time the one machine gun ceased. I was investigated for murder for ordering the return fire." There was a moment then, in which Jonas could not speak and he was not sure why. He realized, history is real. It all was real people. Oh my God. Oh.

Time calmed me. I had control.

Some other pictures followed. Finally, "There I am. I have been relieved and I bandaged some kid's foot. He'd stepped on some glass."

The defense attorney's hand went up again. "Yes?"

She said, "Would you sign my copy of 'Jeremiah in Agony?'"

I laughed. "Happy to. I had nothing to do with writing it. As a matter of fact, Col. Marx wrote it against my wishes. But I thought it was great when I read it."

I wrote in it: The world needs good lawyers. You have a gift. It has been my pleasure to watch you work in class. Jonas Simms

I was glad I made the trip. It built some rapport with Chris and I started to see myself as a player in history. It increased my sense of significance. I thanked Dr. Wirtz; she said it was her pleasure and that she thought she better understood some of the pressures on our service men and women. She said, "I have read one other of Tom Marx's books, the one on the Dubus murder. I think now I'll be sure to read 'Jeremiah.' Good luck to you, Mr. Simms." She had a nobility of manner.

I flew back that evening. It was midnight when we landed in Dayton. I was home around 1.

Jonas Agonistes Chapter 7: Forward Slips

Emily thought the plane was a little high and a little fast, so she said, "Let's slip it in," and began her left turn for approach and made the radio call. She kept the left wing down and ruddered the nose to the right, being careful not to raise the nose much. She let the plane slip a bit left so that when she straightened out it would be aligned with the runway. She stopped the left turn with her right foot giving a little more rudder until she reached the maximum. The plane slowed just a bit, flying catawampus through the air, and lost altitude until it was a better approach height.

Emily liked returning empty planes because she could perform maneuvers that would alarm passengers unnecessarily. "Imagine if we had some passengers-they'd be going bonkers about now," said her co-pilot, Remy Jinx, who was a longtime pilot for the company. He had many more hours than Emily, but since it was an empty return flight he had relinquished the pilot's chair. Emily eased off the rudder and let the wing come up, and the plane was ready to land.

Jonas was waiting for her as she taxiied the plane into the hangar. A few moments later, after filling in the log and performing other post-flight duties, she met him in the waiting area. She was surprised to see him there-it was the first time he'd visited her workplace. She was more surprised when he greeted her with a quick kiss on the lips. He had kissed her a few times, but never in public. It felt familiar and right and good-but it was her workplace and she didn't think it appropriate.

"Hi, guy. Something up?" she said.

"Uh, no, not really. Probably shouldn't kiss you here, huh?" he said, looking around. There was a secretary or clerk who was smiling, and a uniformed older guy following Emily (probably the other pilot?), so there was not too much damage done.

"I'll take 'em when I can get 'em," she said, smiling. "Oh, Remy," she said reaching out and grabbing the guy by the arm. "Remy, this is Jonas, my boyfriend," she said. "Remy has flown for dad for decades now."

Jonas held out a hand and Remy shook it.

Remy said, "I finally get to meet the famous Jonas!"

Jonas smiled. "My pleasure, Sir," he said.

Remy said, "I have stuff to do. I'll leave you kids now. Good to meet you, Jonas."

"You too, Sir."

"So," Emily said, "Are we celebrating the end of the school year a little early? Our final theses being turned in? What?"

"I've decided to go on a few of Tom's signings and interviews. Just a few. That'll be next month and last until late July. So I may not always be around."

"Can I get a list of dates you'll be gone?" she asked.

"As soon as I find out myself. I've agreed to ten separate events-summer is really a vacation for teachers and I don't want this stuff to overwhelm me. I will definitely be done by end of July and then I'll have 10 days or so before school preparation takes over." Jonas was shaking his head.

"Any idea where and when for any of the dates?" she asked.

"I know they want me to go to a book signing first. Then they want me to go with Tom to several of the tv shows."

"Well, I had no idea when you showed up in class that you would become so famous..." she laughingly said.

"Do you have stuff to do now?" Jonas asked.

"Yeah, I have to stop in the office, and there are some things I need to fill out, but it's only a few minutes. Come along. I'll introduce you to anyone who comes by." So I met the gang. Saw her dad. She was clinging to me, and I liked it. She introduced me as her boyfriend.

*

Callie sat a few feet away from Jonas. They were alone at this session.

"Did you like Emily?"

Very much. She loves you.

"She introduced me to people she works with as her boyfriend."

How did you feel?

"Good. Good. Very good. Like I belonged and mattered."

I hate to bring us back to our sore subject, but it must be so. So you remember the little girl now. What did you do immediately after you realized she'd been killed?

It was hard for Jonas, he turned his head back and forth a few times. "I felt the shock of the round that killed her, through her, and suddenly she was leaning. I looked at her and it was obviously a fatal wound, right away. I stopped running and put her down on the street as if I were putting a healthy child to bed. I put my hand on her cheek for a second-I couldn't on her forehead because... She was...it was horrible. Then I ran on and soon we were relatively safe."

Do you think you did anything morally wrong?

"Morally? I didn't use my head. I was stupid-in such a hurry-and didn't think how I endangered the child."

How many decisions did you make that day?

"How many? Thousands..."

What if you had left her to run, and she had been killed for falling a little behind, or not running at all?

"You are asking if I'd left her alone and she'd died would I still feel this way? Yes. Probably, for not getting her to move faster."

What do little girls mean to you, Jonas?

"What do you mean?"

Well, you teach at a school with boys and girls, yet you go to the girls' softball games. They flood into the stands to meet your girlfriend, A girl who is slight, very youthful, I might add. You pick me without looking at a picture, a woman. What do girls mean to you?

Jonas was silent. Then he started, stopped, and spoke: "I think girls are home to me, especially younger girls. Maybe that's part of my attraction to Em. Girls represent the good in my life. Desire. I've not suffered or been teased or bullied by any girls. I think when the little girl died it was like my conception of home was attacked. By one of us. It would not be like it had been, for me, because I'd failed to protect, we'd attacked our own home."

So you'd failed to save a girl in danger, who only had a chance because you were there.

"I don't understand."

You followed orders that threatened these noncombatants. You disobeyed when you realized they were unlawfully executed. You gave her a chance, she panicked and stopped running, you tripped on her, you frantically but reasonably tried to move her to safety and a round that could have killed you killed her. Thousands missed you that day. You were lucky. That poor child was not.

"I'd rather it had killed me."

I know. Emily knows. I think your parents know. Anyone who has read "Jeremiah" knows.

"It is a good book."

You are a good man, Jonas.

"You're only saying that because I'm paying you."

You are doing it again. It is okay for you to admit you are a good person. You are a good guy.

"I was not enough. Not that day."

No one was. No one always is. How many times does a great hitter strike out with the winning run on base?

"I like Jeremiah, but he is only me to my flaw. I should have saved the girl."

You are not home if you cannot save her.

"I feel sad when I think of her, everyday."

Sadness is not unhealthy when there is a good reason. Sadness heals. Now that you remember, perhaps you will heal.

"Hope so."

You saved 160 people.

"I should've 161."

*

I asked Emily to a nice restaurant in Cincinnati. We dressed up. I picked her up, gave her some flowers to put in a vase, held her hand to the car, and held doors and used the valet service. I spared no expense.

The service was excellent; the waitress saw we mostly wanted to be left alone once we ordered wine and the meal. I held her hand as we waited for the meal.

"Em, I am in love. I am still not whole, I have guilt issues, but I love you. I hope you return my feelings, and I expect that things will be more serious between us soon, if not beginning now."

She looked in my eyes. "I've known for some time that I don't want a life without you by my side, Jonas. If you ask, I will say yes. I am in no hurry. I have met no one with your humility and goodness or caring, and I don't just mean caring for me. You care for everyone. And you are loved by me."

I pulled out a long jewelry box, which contained a necklace. I opened it. "I got this because while I am not ready for an engagement, I want you to know that with all my foibles and flaws and baggage, I love you and want the best for you. I hope you like it."