From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [240]
Angelo Maggio said he understood his rights, and that he had been informed.
The president of the court then pronounced sentence, stating it was not effective until reviewed and approved.
Angelo Maggio was conducted back to the Stockade under guard to wait until the sentence was reviewed. He worked with a sixteen-pound sledge in the stone quarry up by Kolekole Pass. He waited in the Stockade eight days for his sentence to be reviewed.
The sentence was reviewed by Lieutenant Colonel Rutherford B H Delbert, Angelo Maggio’s Regimental Commander, and approved in full. The complete record of trial, including the opinion of Colonel Delbert’s staff judge advocate and the action of Colonel Delbert, was then sent to Major General Andrew J Smith, Angelo Maggio’s Brigade Commander. It was there examined by experienced lawyers in the Brigade Judge Advocate General’s Office, who reported to General Smith that the record was legally sufficient to support Colonel Delbert’s action. General Smith then issued a special court-martial order finding Angelo Maggio guilty on all counts of all charges brought against him and sentencing him to six months confinement at the Post Stockade, Schofield Barracks, T.H. and forfeiture of all pay and allowances for a like period. This court-martial order was published throughout the Brigade where Angelo Maggio had served, and posted on the bulletin board in all orderly rooms of the Brigade.
Angelo Maggio in the Stockade was given a typewritten record of the trial and a copy of the special court-martial order, and began to serve out his time. He worked with a sixteen-pound sledge in the stone quarry up by Kolekole Pass. They did not subtract the six weeks waiting for trial or the eight days of waiting for approval of the sentence from his six months sentence.
Chapter 28
SOMETHING CHANGED IN PREWITT after Angelo’s one man revolution. It was something that The Treatment with all its refinements had not been able to touch. Something went out of him. The Treatment could never have taken it out of him. It was as if somewhere deep inside himself he could feel bone rubbing somberly against bone, changing gears. It sounded like a round-edged file on stone.
On April the first, the day after the disastrous payday, Pvt 1cl Bloom the potential middleweight, Pvt 1cl Malleaux the new man and potential featherweight, and several other Pfcs who were potential went on Detached Service with the new class at the Regimental NCO School. The NCO School was encamped in squad tents on one of the old concrete permanent camp sites up near the rifle range where the Regiments lived during their range seasons. It was an eight-weeks course.
Prewitt the potential welterweight watched them pack and go, irrelevantly remembering how he had once believed the great American folklore that all Wops were either dead yellow or else killers for the racketeers. He also remembered how it was up there, where they were going. He had been up there last year with the 27th during range season. He remembered the tents pitched over the concrete foundations, the standing in line for chow with mess kits in the mud, he remembered the waiting on the ready line in the fleece padded shooting jackets made from old CKC blouses, the smell of burnt cordite and the ringing ears and the carbon sight blackeners that smudged up everything and the two or three privately owned BC scopes of the top notch shooters, he remembered all of it, the heavy clinking dull glittering unexpended cartridges in the hand, the long deadly streamline disappearing of a cartridge slipped into the chamber with the thumb when you were firing singles, the swinging white spot marking off the bulls and the