From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [302]
“I dont see how that has anything to do with me pleading guilty,” Prew said.
“Well my God, man, dont you see? If you admit you were drunk and were just feeling your oats was all, then we turn the tables right back on them, because the getting drunk itself is tacitly considered more of a virtue than a sin, to a real soldier. The court, who understand and believe that, couldnt honestly give you three months, let alone the limit, just for being a hell-for-leather wild-and-woolly soldier. Of course, legally you would be guilty; but we dont care about that What we’re aiming for is to influence the human relations of the court that underlie the legal code and in reality are what determine their decisions.”
Lt Culpepper looked at Prew triumphantly brilliantly and got out his Parker 51 pen for him to sign with, but Prew would not take the pen.
“That sounds like a swell idea, Lootenant,” he said grudgingly. “And I hate to disappoint you after you figured it all out and worked on it so hard. But I just cant plead guilty for you, Lootenant.”
“But why the hell not, man!” Lt Culpepper exploded. “And besides, you’re not doing it for me. I explained it all to you, didnt I? The whole key of my case lies in your pleading guilty. I cant do a thing for you if you dont. It’ll be just another run-of-the-mill court martial, no different from ten thousand others. Neither one of us will get any recognition out of it.”
“I cant help it,” Prew said. “I aint guilty. And I aint going to plead guilty. Not even if it would mean a full acquittal. I’m sorry, but thats the way it is.”
“My god, man!” Lt Culpepper cried exasperatedly. “What has that got to do with it? Nobody gives a damn whether you’re guilty or not. The court doesnt care. Its all governed by the legal code, and the human relations beneath it that run it. No court could possibly give a soldier the maximum just for feeling his oats and getting drunk and in trouble, not if he admits it. Why, getting drunk and running wild is not only a soldier’s nature, its almost his sacred duty; just like the way Ernest Hemingway said that syph was the occupational disease of bullfighters and soldiers. Its the same damn thing.”
“Did you ever have it, Lootenant?”
“Have what?”
“The syph.”
“Who? Me? Hell, no. Whats that got to do with it?”
“Well, I’ve never had it either,” Prew said grimly. “But I’ve had the clap. And if syph and clap are the occupational diseases of soldiers, then I’ll get out and be a garage mechanic.
“Besides,” he said, “I aint begging none of them for nothing. If they want to railroad this case like that, they can do it. I wont brown-nose with none of them, even if they are proud of their men getting drunk. I aint never asked nobody for nothing, and I aint starting now, Lootenant.”
Lt Culpepper scratched his head with his Parker 51 pen and then put it back in his pocket. He took out his Parker 51 pencil and got a piece of blank paper out of the briefcase and began to draw doodles on it with the pencil.
“Okay, but you think it over. I’m sure you’ll come around when you see how important it is. Why, Prewitt, do you realize we might establish a whole new legal procedure for military courts? Think what it might mean to whole future generations of soldiers.”
“I’ve thought about it all I need to,” Prew said. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, after you’ve worked so hard on it, Lootenant. But I aint pleading guilty,” he