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A Matter Of Honor

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A MATTER OF HONOR (part 6) A continuation of an unfinished story started by Hammerlock in 2011.

Washington D.C. Thursday the 16th of July 2020; 05:00 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time.
At 05:00 a.m. sharp, Sergeant Karyn Greylocke was woken up by the prison’s chief-warden himself and ordered to put on her uniform. From that moment, she would always be accompanied by two armed soldiers.
From 05:15 to 05:40 a.m. she took breakfast : fried eggs, bread, fried tomatoes, beans, bacon, some slices of cucumber, coffee. Between 05:40 and 05:45 a.m., she was allowed to brush her teeth, as she wanted to start the day with a freshened mouth.
At 05:45 a.m., Lieutenant Warren and Captain Gallo, both in service dress uniform, arrived. They briefed the schedule for the day with Karyn and the chief warden. It looked like another day of military routine had started.
At 06:00 a.m., Karyn entered the medical quarters of the military prison for the last preparations. She was ordered to strip naked and take a shower. Then she got a brief medical examination. She was given an enema. Using the radiographs taken a few days earlier, and a high-precision laser device, the four nailing points were marked on her wrists and ankles. She was given an injection directly into her spinal cord, intended to peak-shave the most intense pain a little, particularly during the nailing. Meanwhile, at 06:30 a.m., Lt. Warren had taken off in a Bell Huey helicopter to the Old Arsenal, in order to oversee the preparations there.
From 08:00 to 08:15 a.m., Karyn carried out some paperwork, related to arrangements about the termination of her life. Between 08:15 and 08:25 a.m., Karyn had a last talk with Captain Gallo. Between 08:25 and 08:35 a.m., Karyn was allowed to put some make-up, and to do her hair. At 08:35 a.m., she was granted an extra five minutes, on her request. When she had finally finished, at 08:45, she had to take off her uniform once more. She was given a paper disposable panties and then she had to pull on an army green jumpsuit. With her rank insignia on the sleeves. Guards put a chain around her waist, shackled her hands and attached them to the chain. Her ankles were shackled, and attached to the chain belt too. Then, she was brought to Warren, who had just returned by helicopter, Gallo, her counsel Peter Fortuna, and the chief-warden .
“I am sorry for the shackles, Sergeant! Regulations!” Warren said. “We have no specific protocol for volunteered executions of full members of the Armed Forces.
Next, she was officially handed over to Warren by the chief-warden.
“Sergeant Greylocke! You are by now transferred to the 3rd platoon of the 513th engineers-carpenters company, for a special assignment. As your direct commander during this assignment, I have to confer to you the special orders. From now on, you will only speak until spoken to! You will take no initiative by any means! You will undergo without objection everything you will be submitted to and you will carry out everything you will be ordered to! You have no authority to pull rank by any means on lower ranked personnel and you will have to obey their orders too! Do I make myself clear, Sergeant?”
“Loud and clear, Lieutenant!”
“Good! Just remember Sergeant, that nevertheless, you are still allowed to seek advice from Captain Gallo or from your counsel!”
“Yes Sir!”
Between 08:50 and 8:55 a.m., Karyn was allowed to confer with her counsel. At 09:05 a.m., they all embarked a Chinook helicopter. At 09:07 a.m., after Karyn was secured, the helicopter took off. At 09:19 a.m., they landed on the helicopter pad of the Old Arsenal. They transferred to a van. At 09:25 a.m. the van stopped in front of the former penitentiary building. They were awaited by the governor of the Old Arsenal Barracks.
“Lieutenant Warren of the 513th engineers-carpenters company, with Sergeant Greylocke for execution, requests permission to enter!”
“Permission granted to enter the Barracks, Lieutenant, will you follow me for the inspection of the site, please?”
“Yes Sir!”
Warren went away with the governor.
“You better take a sedative, now Karyn!”, Gallo said, “to calm your nerves. Just let it melt under your tongue. You can have a second one if you need it!”
Karyn accepted the sedative. Meanwhile, Peter approached to her.
“I just got informed that your father has turned down the invitation to assist your execution, Karyn. But he has let you know that he is proud of you!”
“Thanks!” She had not seen him any more after the verdict. There had been no more opportunity to say goodbye. Had she better insisted on it? She thought it would be better for both not to do so. After all, she considered herself on a combat assignment, and a soldier on a combat assignment has no dad in his neighborhood either. Gallo had suggested her to say goodbye, but she thought it would be too much a mental burden and it would make things unnecessarily complicated for both dad and herself.
At 09:45, Lieutenant Warren returned.
“Attention! Corporal! Escort the Sergeant to the execution place!” He ordered.
“Yes Sir!”
“Captain Gallo, Lieutenant Fortuna, you are both allowed to follow her!”
“Forward! March!”
On this command, they marched into the courtyard. A sinister spot in the US military, enclosed by high walls and massive old buildings. Against the opposite wall, Karyn saw a huge pile of sandbags, with poles in front of it. It is likely that she would have been executed there by the firing squad, if she had not chosen to get crucified. In a corner of the courtyard stood a gallows with five hooks for nooses.
“Left flank! March!” The column turned left, parallel with the building.
They marched toward the a prison wall, where a number of soldiers stood in attention in a row. One man was giving the last instructions : Sergeant-major Buckley. About seventy feet in front of that scene, stood rows of chairs with about twenty onlookers. Among them, the judge who had condemned Karyn, Colonel VanSant, her battalion commander, and, to her annoyance, Captain Prescotte, the man who had brought her into this trouble.
Through the columns of her escort, next to Buckley’s men, she could also see the wooden cross, lying flat, supported by a few concrete blocks.
“Right flank! March!” On command of the Corporal, the section turned to the right.
“Section! Halt!” The section stopped in front of the cross.
“Right! Face!” The section turned towards the onlookers.
“Section! At! Ease!”
They were waited for by a Major of the Office of the Court-martial General. Warren saluted him.
“Sir, the 3rd platoon of the 315th engineers-carpenters company reports for the special execution assignment of Sergeant Greylocke!”
“Thank you, Lieutenant”. The onlookers stood up and the Major read a declaration.
“On July 10th 2020, the Office of the Court-martial General of the United States Armed Forces, has acknowledged the request of Sergeant Karyn Greylocke, following her death sentence after dishonorable discharge, pronounced against her on July 3rd , to be executed by crucifixion according to military law. The acknowledgement of the request suspends the execution of the verdict from July 3rd against Sergeant Karyn Greylocke.”
Then he addressed Peter.
“Counsel, do you have anything to say in the name of your client?”
“No, Sir!”
“Then, Lieutenant Warren, carry on!”
“Yes, Sir!” Warren turned to his section.
“Corporal! Take positions!”
“Yes Sir!” The Corporal commanded the column behind Karyn to the left of the cross, and the row in front of her to the right of it. They were ordered to stand in ‘port Arms’. Karyn was now facing the onlookers, only accompanied by her three guards.
“Is there anything you want to say, Karyn?” Gallo asked her.
“No… or… just… Could you tell my dad I love him?”
“Counsel, we will begin now. According to regulations, I have to ask you to leave this place and join the onlookers. You can talk to your client later, after execution. As yet, there is nothing you can do for her anymore?”
“At your orders, Lieutenant. Good luck, Karyn!”
“Thank you, counsel!”
Karyn became more and more overwhelmed by a feeling of desperate loneliness, standing shackled in this vast courtyard, with tens of pairs of eyes all looking at her. All to see her suffer and ultimately die, by her self-chosen ordeal. Just to keep up the honor of her family. Of her father.
“Sergeant Greylocke! We will start the final preparations!”
“Yes, sir!” she replied, but the military protocol sounded more and more futile to her.
“Sergeant-major Buckley! Prepare Sergeant Greylocke!”
“Yes, Sir!”
Buckley knew that this part of the procedure was the first occasion the condemned could collapse or get seized by panic. He had seen it so often,… He summoned two of the soldiers of the escort as reinforcement. Then he unshackled Karyn except for her ankles. He tore down her jumpsuit, so that she stood naked down the waist. For security, her hands were then shackled at her back. Then her ankles were released, and her jumpsuit was pulled off.
“Bring the Sergeant to the cross!”
According to regulations, the cross was composed of a vertical beam, fifteen feet long (from which six would be lowered into the ground during its righting up), seven inch wide, made of green impregnated planed wood. The horizontal beam had same width, was six and a half feet long, and was attached to the horizontal beam by metal connections and supported by an askew beam on each side. The cross was lying on supports, some twenty inch high, allowing an easier strapping and nailing. Next to the cross stood a crate with straps, one with hammers and one with nails. Long, shiny bluish steel nails. She had seen them the days before, but this time, they suddenly looked very frightening. This time, it would be real! Karyn suddenly felt her stomach turn around!
“Strap the Sergeant on the cross!”
Buckley’s men unshackled her wrists, grabbed her by her arms and forced her to lay down on the cross. They strapped Karyn by her arms, her chest, her waist, her knees and her ankles. Then they stood in at ease, waiting for further orders.
Buckley stepped towards Karyn and ripped off the paper panties at her left hip and then at her right one. He lifted up her buttocks, and tore off her last piece of clothing.
“Take positions, men! Corporal Saunders! Left Wrist!”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Corporal Waters! Right ankle!”
“Yes! Sir!”
“Corporal Podolsky! Left ankle!”
“Yes, Sir!”
Karyn had undergone the strapping without resistance. Feeling restrained by the straps and aware of her full nudity, she suddenly felt terribly vulnerable. Suddenly, she did not want to do this anymore. But she knew it was too late and she knew she had to keep herself together. But she could not stop herself getting terrified by fear.
“Sergeant Greylocke is prepared for execution, Sir!”

(to be continued)
 
A MATTER OF HONOR (part 7) A continuation of an unfinished story started by Hammerlock in 2011.

Thursday, July 16th 2020. The courtyard of the former penitentiary building, Old Arsenal Barracks, Washington D.C., 09:55 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time.
Sergeant Karyn Greylocke was laying naked, strapped on her cross. She had been prepared for her execution, her self-chosen crucifixion, the only opt-out for avoiding dishonor. Now she was waiting. The execution team was waiting too. The execution had been scheduled at 10:00 a.m. That was Zero Hour. In the military, this meant that no nail should be driven into Sergeant Greylocke’s body before 10:00 a.m. sharp!
Lieutenant Warren had a worry. The previous days, preparations had not gone as desired. There had been problems with discipline and efficiency. The only one who apparently hadn’t noticed anything, was Sergeant-major Buckley. Finally, Lieutenant Warren had found out that Buckley himself was at the origin of the problem. For various reasons, Buckley felt uncomfortable with the mission.
The problem had exploded on the last evening. Too late to replace him. Replacing Buckley would have meant a blow to the moral of the entire section. The alternative, replacing the whole section, would have meant the operation had to be postponed, devastating the reputation of the 513th. So, the evening before the crucifixion, Captain Gallo was given the mission impossible to talk Sergeant-major Buckley back on track.
In the morning, Gallo had assured Warren that Buckley was all right. But Warren’s worry had not gone away. The moment of truth had to come. Buckley’s role in the crucifixion was crucial. It was a custom that the chief of the execution section would put the first nail, into the right wrist of the condemned. So Buckley would do with Sergeant Greylocke. Next, Buckley had to direct the nailing. If Buckley would fail in his duties, if he would misjudge or lose his nerves, the whole operation could get terribly messed up.
Warren’s worry had been revived during the last minutes before 10 a.m., because Buckley had called up two extra men just to take off Sergeant Greylocke’s jumpsuit. He was allowed to do so, but usually he never took that precaution. Luckily, Sergeant Greylocke had been very cooperative and accepting, easing Sergeant-major Buckley’s job as yet. But suddenly, a crisis was emerging.
Gallo and Warren both noticed Karyn’s changing attitude almost at the same moment. She had started to breathe rather nervously and short-winded. She lay staring high up into the sky, with her eyes wide opened. If she would panic, and her panic would affect Buckley… Without a word, waving his digit, Warren urged Gallo to intervene.
Gallo kneeled down next to Karyn.
“Karyn! Are you all right?”
“Yes, I am!” but it sounded all but convincing.
“Shall I give you the second sedative?”
Karyn nodded. Gallo put the sedative into Karyn’s mouth.
“I am afraid the moment has almost come, Karyn! You will have to be strong!”
Karyn kept nodding, her eyes still wide open.
“Are you scared, Karyn?”
Karyn confirmed.
“Have you never been scared in combat? Or just before action?”
“Yes! Yes! I always was,“ Karyn said with a whispering, hoarse voice, “but I had my arms free then. I could run, I could move, shoot… but now? Look at me! I am… I am…Why? Why?” for a moment, she got tears in her eyes.
“Easy, Karyn, remind the tips and tricks we taught you.”
“Yes! I will!”
“There is something else we had planned to do. Normally at ten, but…” Gallo lifted Karyn’s head from the cross, untied her French knot and arranged her maroon hair. Then Karyn laid down again.
“Hey! That is not regulatory!” a voice cried from the onlookers’ seats.
Captain Gallo stood up and faced the man who had made the comment.
“Captain Prescotte! This was Sergeant Greylocke’s last wish! This exemption was granted by the Sergeant’s battalion commander!”
“That is correct, Captain!,” Colonel VanSant said, “and you, Captain Prescotte, I want to remind you that onlookers during an execution are prohibited from all comments, objections, or other verbal interventions! So, shut up, sit down, and I want you to report in my office tomorrow at 11.00 a.m.!”
“Yes, Sir!”
Gallo kneeled again next to Karyn.
“You see, Karyn, even strapped, you get an enemy down!”
Karyn was apparently more relaxed again.
“Thanks! Thanks for the hair! And for the support.”
Gallo put her hand on Karyn’s naked shoulder. Right on the spot of the clearly visible remnant of the wound, caused by a bullit in Afghanistan and for which she had earned her Purple Heart.
“Remember, Sergeant! Your mission is to save lives!”
“At your orders, Captain!”
“Good luck, Karyn! Be strong! You will make it!”
“Thanks! Goodbye!”
Gallo went back to Warren.
“Thank you, Captain!”
“Thank YOU, Lieutenant.”
Gallo looked back on Karyn. She was lying flat, stretched on the cross. Naked, her skin pale, except for these parts that had been exposed to the sun during patrols in Afghanistan. Her small rounded breasts flattened out towards her sides. Her legs delicately strapped to the beam. It was hard to believe that such a frail looking body belonged to a battle hardened soldier. Unbelievable that she once had carried on her shoulders a wounded soldier to safety, while under mortar fire. A man who, with his armor, weighed almost twice as she did. “I did it on adrenaline, not on power”, she had explained. The same action in which she got wounded, resulting into a second award on her Purple Heart, a citation on the day order and a still pending recommendation for a Bronze Star Medal.
For a brief moment, Gallo imagined herself being strapped on a cross like Karyn, she tried to imagine how it would feel, awaiting the pain and the humiliation, the…
The clock struck ten.
“Sergeant-major Buckley! Execution!”
“Yes Sir!”
The men of Buckley’s section took their tools. Buckley kneeled next to Karyn.
“Time, Sergeant!”
“Yes it is!” Karyn whispered nervously.
Buckley put his hammer on the ground, and was handed over a nail and a washer.
“Please… don’t break my arm..?”
“Trust me, Sergeant, no one will break your arm or any other bone here! There are no rookies in my section!”
He positioned Karyn’s right wrist, using preset markings on the cross.
“You know, Sergeant, our concern is rather that we smash our own hands, by doing this!”
“Be careful then!” Karyn answered “Don’t get hurt!”
“Sure we are careful! We don’t get a Purple Heart just for a crushed finger!”
Karyn nervously laughed about it.
Then Buckley showed up a rubber rod and put it into Karyn’s mouth.
“Bite on it, as hard as you can!” and then he addressed a private from the section. “Joe! You hold her arm!”
A strange silence hung over the courtyard, as Sergeant-major Buckley made his last preparations. No one spoke a word. Even the wind and the birds seemed to have silenced on this moment. The silence was only interrupted by Karyn’s breathing and by the metal on metal sound of the six inch long steel nail, being put on the marking on Karyn’s right wrist, through the hole of the washer. Buckley positioned her wrist for the last time. All the time, Karyn watched him doing. She could not keep her eyes from her right hand that was about to be nailed to the cross. It was something familiar to Buckley. All the condemned did so, with terrible fear in their eyes. The condemned were always advised not to look, but they were all eager to see it happen.
Lieutenant Warren watched with growing anxiety. He felt it was taking too long. Was Buckley hesitating? Normally, Buckley never talked to the condemned.
Buckley grabbed the nail over its whole length with his left fist. He did a last check on the nail, looked Karyn into her eyes, took a deep breath and concentrated on the head of the nail. He lifted the hammer and then slowly moved it down, to the head of the nail, to check out whether the momentum and the trajectory of the blow would be satisfactory. Karyn, now feeling the sharp point of the nail scratching and slightly pricking her wrist, took a deep breath too. Her hand started to quiver a little.
“Hold her arm firmer, Joe! Trust me, Sergeant, I know what I am doing!”
Buckley lifted the hammer, but then he let him down again. Lieutenant Warren, skipping a heartbeat at that moment, wondered why he was hesitating. Warren knew, the first hammerblow was the blow of truth. The first had to drive the nail straight through the tunnel between the bones in the wrist, through all the flesh and soft tissue. The first had to get the nail immediately secured deep enough into the wood. The worst thing to happen was a nail getting stuck in the bones of the condemned…
Warren saw Buckley standing up. Buckley put the nail again on Karyn’s wrist, moved it a little, grabbed his hammer, and while doing that, the nail suddenly slipped out of his hand and fell on the ground.
Warren took a deep breath. It was as if the sound of the falling nail came straight from the worst nightmare.
“Lewis, bring me another six inch will you?”
Warren struggled to control his nerves. He had to, as he had to keep up leadership and confidence. If the men would notice his worries,… But Buckley dropping a nail, that was a bad omen.
Buckley took the other nail and put it on Karyn’s wrist. He still was not satisfied from his position.
“Sorry for the delay, Sergeant.”
Buckley started over again. Warren faced a dilemma. Should he intervene? Then it had to be right now, and it had to be solely his call, as commander of the operation. No more time to seek advice. He had no back-up plan, so he had to think quickly, about contingencies (replace Buckley by switching the nailing order – seriously blaming Buckley, or just allow him a break? And for Sergeant Greylocke waiting longer or risking a gruesome messed up nailing). He was only left a split second to decide (with the eyes of tens of field and general officers on his back). Warren turned to Captain Gallo. She stood watching Buckley’s preparations, arms in front of her, left arm supporting her chin. And she looked relaxed. Terribly relaxed and trustful! Her attitude was an unspoken advice for Warren to keep his confidence in Buckley.
Buckley checked the trajectory once more. Then, he lifted the hammer again to its starting position.
Lieutenant Warren skipped another heartbeat! He held his breath. The first hammerblow was the blow of truth… If Buckley would misjudge… A nail stuck in a bone… Or break her arm.. Or doing a thumb smasher… Let Buckley please keep his mind on the job… !
“Hold her down, Joe!”
Warren skipped a third heartbeat …
Then, the hammer came down with full force!
(to be continued)
 
A MATTER OF HONOR (part 8) A continuation of an unfinished story started by Hammerlock in 2011.

Thursday, July 16th 2020. The courtyard of the former penitentiary building, Old Arsenal Barracks, Washington DC, 10:04:17 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time.

The hammer came down with full force….!
Sergeant-major Buckley’s hammer hit the six inch long nail, positioned on Karyn’s wrist with full force.
She violently shivered up, while she roared loudly from pain.
Buckley had driven the nail straight through Karyn’s wrist, into the wood of the cross. Blood poured out around the nail, and spread over her wrist in trickles, running quickly down and dripping on the cross, and joining the blood coming from under her wrist. Sergeant-major Buckley was satisfied. It was a good blow, the rest would be easy. He lifted the hammer again, while Karyn kept roaring repeatedly, hardly muffled by the bit in her mouth. Buckley could now hold Karyn’s wrist by himself on the cross. In three more blows, he finished the job.

Lieutenant Warren was also satisfied. And most of all very relieved! Luckily, everybody was so focused on the action, that no one heard him say “whew”!

“That is one! Saunders! Your turn!”

Corporal Saunders prepared to nail the left wrist. But Karyn, suddenly stricken by claustrophobic panic, started writhing violently with her nailed arm, in the vain hope to pull it free. Buckley noticed it and immediately pressed her wrist firmly to the wood.
“No! No! Don’t! It does not help, and you will only hurt yourself unnecessarily!”

Karyn shook heavily with her head, while she kept roaring, but the writhing stopped.

“Saunders! Go ahead! Joe! You hold her arm!”

Karyn uttered muffled cries of “Nooo! Noo!”, as Saunders positioned her left wrist and placed the nail on the marking. On the approval of Buckley, he moved the hammer up and down along its intended trajectory, and then he hit the nail with full force. Karyn roared and shivered again, while Saunders did another clean ‘first’. The nail got fixed in just two more blows.

“All right men, prepare her ankles!”

The bone structure in the ankles is heavier than in the wrists and there is less space between them. Hence, there is less margin for error in finding the tunnel where the nails would ideally be put. Because of the sideward nailing, it is also more difficult to give the hammer enough momentum, to drive the seven inch long nails swiftly into the ankles and the wood. But Buckley’s section was experienced in dealing with it.

The straps around Karyn’s right leg were released somewhat, so that they could position her right ankle. They needed more force to hold her leg, to prevent her from getting her foot free so that she could kick around. While she kept roaring, she tried to lift her head to watch the preparations of her ankles, but she could not hold it up for long. Meanwhile, Buckley oversaw the preparations, standing behind Karyn’s head. He laid his hands on her shoulders, to restrain her motions, and to provide her a little feeling of comfort, to calm her down. Buckley knew, the nailing of the ankles was more painful than of the wrists.

“Waters! Your turn!”

“Yes Sir!”

“Hang on, Sergeant!” Buckley said, while pushing Karyn's shoulders more firmly.

Waters and his team fixed her ankle and set the nail.
“Nail set, Chief!”

“It’s your judgment, Waters! Fire at will!”
When the hammer hit the nail, Karyn roared even louder and longer than before. She violently agitated her body, as far as her restraints allowed. Corporal Waters’ first through Karyn’s right ankle was also a good one. He quickly drove the nail deeper into the wood, while Karyn kept kicking and shaking.
“Podolsky! The last one!”

“Yes, Sir!”

The nailing point of the left foot was upset one inch compared to the right one, in order to minimize the risk that both nails would encounter each other deep in the wood. Buckley kept holding Karyn’s shoulders down, meanwhile directing his men.

Karyn kept violently shaking with her head. So violently that the rod dropped out of her mouth and rolled under the cross. She now fully cried “Nooo! Aaaargh! Please Nooo, mother , nooo stop it!!!” Buckley gave her quickly another one and ordered Corporal Podolsky to carry on. Buckley hoped his men would be once more able to keep her feet in position against her violent attempts to kick. But Podolsky did a good job and had the last nail also secured immediately. Ignoring Karyn’s cries, he finished the nailing.

“All right! At ease, men!”
Buckley checked the nails and reported to Warren.

“Sergeant Greylocke is nailed properly, Sir!”

“Thank you, Sergeant. Good work! Release the straps and put the cross upright!”

“Yes Sir!”

From the sides of the courtyard, an army truck with a telescopic crane arrived. It stopped behind Karyn’s cross. The crane was erected and a hook was attached on a ring on each end of the horizontal crossbeam. The cross had to be placed into a square hole in a concrete foundation. The iron lid covering the hole was removed.

Buckley kneeled next to the moaning Karyn again.

“Hang on for the last move, Sergeant! Be prepared!” Karyn just nodded, but Buckley saw upcoming fear again. She knew what was about to happen.

Buckley gave the order, and slowly, the crane lifted up the cross, guided by the men, in order to prevent it from swinging. While it was lifted up, Karyn, who had been, for practical reasons, nailed in the ‘up’ position of the crux dance, began to glide down along the vertical beam. Buckley ordered to stop the lifting.

“Waters, Podolsky, guide her!”

“Yes, Sir!”
While Waters and Podolsky held Karyn’s body, the cross was lifted further. They prevented her from too violently dropping down and suffering too much strain and pain at the nailing points. As the cross stood more and more upright, Waters and Podolsky had to release her. Karyn did the last part of the drop on her own, tormented, as her body weight was gradually transferred from her back, where she had been resting on, to the nailing points. She dropped the rod out of her mouth.

The crane had positioned the cross right above the hole. It was carefully lowered into it, until it struck the bottom with a soft ‘thud’. The crane was detached from the cross, and the truck drove away. The men put wedges between the cross and the sides of the hole and attached three steel cables from the vertical beam to the concrete blocks where the cross had been previously resting on, in order to improve its stability.
“The cross is erected, Sir!”

“Thank you, Sergeant! Dismissed!”

“Yes, Sir!”

Karyn was not screaming anymore, but rather growling. She was hanging entirely by her outstretched arms, in the position she had ended up when the cross had been put upright. Her knees were bending outward. She looked rather wonderingly and dazed, her mouth open, and she was looking around with large open eyes. Then she started pulling up, searching for air! With loud screams of pain and clearly with great difficulty, she pushed herself up. Her breathing sounded like roars of pain, the effort made her face turning red, sweat poured out all over her body. She lost a trickle of urine. At last she stood up. She could breathe. But she could not hold long. Her arms and legs trembled, and then she had to give up. She glided downwards. The roars of pain muffled, while she was again hanging by her outstretched arms. She just had accomplished the first cycle of the crux dance. The first of many to come.

Around 10:15 to 10:45 a.m., the courtyard had become more crowded. The crucifixion properly had been witnessed by only a select group of attendees. But from 10:15 a.m., more invited delegations from the armed forces and government institutions had been allowed into the courtyard. While the courtyard became crowded, Karyn was continuously moving up and down, performing her forced crux dance, with cycles of three to five minutes. Some of the delegates watched her ordeal with fascination, but most of them discussed the execution, or simply other things, like the war. Karyn’s cries of pain were soon lost in the hum of tens of talking people.

Talking to the condemned was not allowed. Onlookers had to respect a perimeter of sixty feet around the cross. Within the perimeter, Gallo, Warren and other members of their unit, continued their duties.

“Captain Gallo! Thanks for Buckley! You did a miracle”

“Even a professional can have a moment of weakness, Lieutenant Warren. By the way, during the last minutes of Sergeant-major Buckley’s preparation, I had the impression you could have used a sedative too. I always have some spare ones with me, you know, for in case…”

“All right, all right, Captain, I know, I should have had more confidence in Buckley. And in your professional skills off course!”

“Don’t mention it, Lieutenant!”

Brigadier General Holden, head of the Office of the Court-martial General, and Colonel VanSant approached the perimeter.

“Lieutenant Warren, your section has performed its duties very well. Efficient, clean, well on schedule. Congratulations!” said the General.

“Many commanders will envy you, Lieutenant, with such a fine, well forged unit.”, VanSant added, “Splendid teamwork! Remaining cold-blooded under stress! It is a pity these soldiers are medically unfit for combat. Such a unit could do great work in battle!”

“Thank you, Gentlemen, but Sergeant Greylocke also did a good job.”

“Sure she did too! Everyone did! This is where it all pays off, the training and the discipline!” Colonel VanSant said.

“Her conduct here was an example for all the armed forces!” General Holmes added.

“Yes, nevertheless a pity, she was a fine NCO.” Colonel VanSant said.

“Gentlemen, permission to speak?”

“Yes, Captain Gallo!?”

“Just this… you are all talking in the past. But Sergeant Greylocke is still alive and still carrying out her mission. She is a fine NCO and she is doing a great job.”

For a brief moment, they all looked at Karyn, who had just managed to pull up herself once more, fighting pain and fatigue, to allow herself to breathe.

“Yes, you are absolutely right, Captain, absolutely right!” the General replied.
“I agree!” the Colonel said. “I am afraid we all have to adapt to these new developments in warfare”.

(to be continued)
 
The surrealism of the crucifixion being treated as "active duty" adds to the interest of this story. They encourage her, tell her she's doing well and how it'll be okay, even while they are stripping her and killing her. Exquisite.
 
A MATTER OF HONOR (part 9) A continuation of an unfinished story started by Hammerlock in 2011.

Thursday, July 16th 2020. the Old Arsenal Barracks, Washington DC, 11:30 a.m. Start of a press conference by Brigadier General Holden, commander of the Office of the Court-martial General.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have to announce you that today, Sergeant Karyn Greylocke, 29 years old, is being executed by crucifixion in the courtyard of the former penitentiary of the Old Arsenal Barracks, here in Washington DC. I will remind you that on July the 6th, Sergeant Greylocke has been sentenced to demotion, to dishonorable discharge from the armed forces and to death by the firing squad, for charges of dereliction in battle, cowardice in battle, insubordination in battle, refusal to obey a direct order from a senior officer in battle, aiding and abetting the enemy, and conduct unbecoming an Army officer. Sergeant Greylocke has voluntarily requested to have her death sentence commuted into crucifixion. This request has been approved by the Office of the Court-martial General on July the 10th. According to military penal law, this approval suspended all sentences from the verdict of July the 6th. By voluntarily opting for crucifixion, usually deemed as agonizing, Sergeant Greylocke will pass away as a full and honorable member of the armed forces!”

He paused a while, as the press took notice.

“The previous days, Sergeant Greylocke has been technically and mentally coached by the Army section charged with her execution. This morning at 05:00 a.m. she was awakened and she subsequently underwent final preparations. At 09:45 a.m., she was brought into the courtyard of the Old Arsenal barracks. She was escorted to the execution site, where she was stripped naked and strapped to the cross. Between 10:00 and 10:15 a.m. Eastern Daylight Time, Sergeant Greylocke was nailed to her cross by a six inch nail through each wrist. Each of her ankles was nailed sideward to the vertical beam by a seven inch nail. Subsequently, the cross was erected. The nailing was carried out swiftly and efficiently, without complications, and without inflicting unnecessary suffering or injury. Sergeant Greylocke bravely fought the inevitable pain during the nailing. She endured the sentence with courage, discipline and acceptance. At this moment, Sergeant Greylocke is still alive and apparently still in a good condition.”

Holden paused once more.

“Any questions?”

“How long has Sergeant Greylocke to live yet?”

“We cannot predict. The average survival time ranges between thirty-six and eighty-four hours.”

“Can we see the Sergeant?”

“With an accreditation, you will be allowed to visit the execution site around 12:30 a.m. But you will have to keep a minimum distance of sixty feet from the cross and neither talking to her nor interviews will be permitted. Talking is very difficult for her anyway.”

“Is she suffering a lot?”

“I shall not conceal to you, that Sergeant Greylocke is doing a hard time at the moment. She is continuously struggling on her cross and fights pain, discomfort and fatigue. But she can rely on mental support from the staff, and she can request food and drink at all times.”

“What will be the impact of this rather gruesome execution of a member of the US armed forces, by the US armed forces, on the moral of our troops, and on the enemy?”

“We are convinced that the moral of our troops, and their resolve to fight will be strengthened. Sergeant Greylocke has made her choice voluntarily, in order to save her family from dishonor. It shows how far an American soldier is committed to go. This will make a strong statement towards the enemy!”

“The Sergeant has been court-martialed allegedly because she had refused to carry out a direct order to open fire on unarmed women and children. This has raised questions about the justice of the verdict. Then, why is she executed so quickly?”

“You understand that I am not entitled to discuss a verdict of the court-martial. Sergeant Greylocke has been judged due process of military law and found guilty by a jury and the judge has spoken a verdict according to this judgment. Sergeant Greylocke had the right to appeal, but she has deliberately waved that right. By doing so, she was fully aware that the execution of the death sentence would follow quickly.”

“But if she had followed the order, she would have been accused of war crimes..?”

“The incident itself is still under investigation by the Army, as usual. I am not involved in the investigation, so, I prefer not to discuss that matter and to wait for the release of the final report.”

***

Captain Gallo had closely followed the press during their tour. In the afternoon, after they had left, there were still many delegates in the courtyard. Some more generals had arrived, among which Brigadier General Arlton Windrom Prescotte the Third, who congratulated Lieutenant Warren and Captain Gallo once more for the accomplished mission. Then, the General had been seen talking to his son, before leaving the site. Afterwards, Captain Prescotte kept dwelling around along the perimeter around the cross, with a taunting look towards Karyn. His attitude irritated Gallo more and more.

“Are you satisfied now, Captain Prescotte?”

“What do you mean, Captain… Gallo?”

“About the combat targets you achieved, Captain”, she said, while looking into Karyn’s direction.
“May I remind you, Captain Gallo, that Sergeant Greylocke has volunteered for this. She could have obtained a merciful and swift death. Just twelve bullets in the heart and it should have been over. But she choose herself to perform this painful and endless naked pole show in front of the joint armed forces and other powers that be. So, don’t blame me, please?”

“It should not have happened at all, Captain Prescotte, if you had not brought her into that dilemma, by ordering her to open fire on unarmed women and children!”

“Captain Gallo! It was a combat situation, we were in an ambush, and decisions had to be made quickly. She had to obey that order anyway! That was the conclusion of the court-martial too. So I have nothing more to say about it. Now, excuse me, Captain Gallo!”

“Arrogant bastard!” she hissed, when he had left.

“Captain Gallo?”

“Yes, Lieutenant Warren?”

“Troubles with Captain Prescotte, Captain?”

“Nah, I just don’t like him. Sergeant Greylocke is right, he is a misogynist jerk!”

“Captain, permission to say something?”

“Yes, no problem, but please no more congratulations. I’ve heard enough of them today.”

“With permission, Captain. Beware to get emotionally involved. You know our unit loses men by that. Good men, and good women…”

“I know Lieutenant, anyway, thanks for reminding me. I am not getting emotionally involved. I just think there is something wrong here! This so called doctrine of saving lives, by which we justify this action.”

“What do you mean, Captain?”

“What doctrine did they taught us? That no bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country. That is the spirit of winning a war on low casualties from our side, isn’t it?”

“Sure! As far as I remember that doctrine has been installed by those generals of World War II, who had fought as junior officers in the First World War and who came back, disgusted from the slaughter in the trenches?”

“Right! But I sometimes have a concern that the Army is abandoning that doctrine.”

“I can only hope, Captain, that your concern is unjustified.”

“By the way, Lieutenant, isn’t it almost time to put on your mess dress and make yourself up for the big reception in the Officer’s club ?”

“Yes, indeed. And thanks for the advice about the mothball smell. It worked!”

“Don’t thank me. I got it from someone else.”

“From whom? Oh no, it isn’t true!?”

She had been pointing to Karyn Greylocke.

***

A few hours later. Sunset approached. The delegates had left the courtyard. A bugler played ‘retreat’, when the flag in the courtyard was lowered. It became dark. From the walls of the old penitentiary building, a spotlight illuminated Sergeant Greylocke on her cross. She was guarded by six soldiers. Captain Gallo was sitting on a chair near Karyn’s cross. The crucified woman was her responsibility now, and she could not bring herself to leave her. Combat is team work!

The previous days, during the preparations, they had talked a long time, about how Karyn had dealt with the danger in Afghanistan. The fear of waging a war with an invisible enemy. There was no frontline, danger was everywhere. Fellow soldiers were abducted or taken prisoner. It could happen to anyone, everywhere. They mostly found them dead, tortured, mutilated, crucified. Karyn had always volunteered to go after a captured comrade, but then the enemy started to target the rescue parties. Karyn was convinced that sooner or later, it would be her turn, it would be her inescapable fate, to end on a cross someday. Nevertheless, she had already applied for a fourth tour, as she could not live with the idea to leave her comrades in arms behind, or to let unexperienced replacements run into the vicious ambushes of the rebels. But then, Captain Arthur Prescotte joined the unit and things had changed completely for her.

After half a day of struggling on the cross, Karyn looked terrible, as if she had aged twenty years in twelve hours. She had sunburn on her arms, on her shoulders, on her face, on her legs… She clearly showed signs of exhaustion. Her motion had become difficult. She had more and more trouble to pull up herself. Her cries of pain had changed into deep roars and moaning. Her breathing was heavy.

The Corporal commanding the guards was very helpful. When Captain Gallo had taken over, he had told her that anything she should order, could be arranged. He brought her a sandwich and coffee.

“Captain, with your permission, may I ask something?”

“Yes, Corporal?”

“I just wonder, what does the Sergeant benefit of this?”

“That is simple Corporal. It is all about a very old military virtue! Honor! She saves herself and her family from dishonor by doing this.”

“Some are also mentioning something about saving lives, by doing this, Captain?”

“Indeed, that is what the Army hopes it will do. That’s what the Sergeant hopes too. If we are so determined that we volunteer to undergo the tortures our enemies inflict to us, just for something futile as honor, we show our resolve to fight and we hope it will deter the enemy. ‘Whatever you do, we shall win, because we are tougher than you”, that is the statement here!”

“I see, Captain!”
“Corporal, suppose, in a combat situation, you get a direct order to throw a grenade into a house full of unarmed women and children, what would you do?”

“I would carry out the order, Ma’am!”

“Really?”

“And then, I would kill the bastard who ordered me! Ma’am!”

“Oh, yeah!?”

“And finally, I would shoot myself, or they will nail me here too!”

“I see, Corporal, Battlefield dilemma’s!”

She stood up and walked around the cross. Preoccupied.

Iraq, the 17th of April 2003. ‘Whooosh! Flash!’. A surge of pain and heat. Darkness. One moment, there was a section, on patrol. Next there was only Second Lieutenant Linda Gallo. Two broken ribs, several flesh wounds, burns, a brain concussion, and enough shrapnel left in her body to bring her into trouble any time she walked through the metal detector of a safety control. It was a miracle she had survived the blast, the only one of the section who did…

‘Whooosh! Flash!’ She had thought the ‘whooosh’ had been the sound of an incoming projectile, a shell fired by an enemy gun. They had told her that such was impossible, as shells travel faster than sound. It had been a mine, they said.

***

From the dark, five people approached. Four officers in mess dress uniform, the fifth one, an older officer, in service dress. Gallo recognized General Holden, Peter Fortuna, the judge,…. The older man in service dress, a Colonel, was unknown to her.

Then she heard Karyn say, with a weak voice :“Dad!?... Dad!?”

General Holden and Peter Fortuna approached the perimeter. They had permission to trespass. Gallo saluted the General, he replied.

“Permission to enter the perimeter, Captain?”

“Permission granted, Gentlemen!”

“Captain, Gallo,” the General said, “I would ask you an unusual and perhaps irregular favor. Can you please allow Colonel Greylocke into the perimeter to see his daughter?”

Gallo considered the question. It was indeed irregular, and it would be her call, as commanding officer in the perimeter.

“And Captain, could you grant them a few minutes of private talking?”

“You mean, General, send the guards away too?”

“We would appreciate it very much, Captain.”

“Corporal, could you and your men clear the perimeter for a few minutes? On my responsibility? I will give you a written order if you would request one?”

“No problem, Ma’am!”

They left the perimeter for the last goodbye between Colonel Greylocke and his daughter. Somewhat isolated from the others stood the fifth officer. He was looking at her, likely seeking contact. Gallo wondered who he was. And while being in charge of the site, she would know.

“Good evening, Lieutenant, a strange place to chill-out from a reception.”

“Good evening Captain. I accompanied the General and Major Bard…”

“Major Bard? Oh yes, the judge.”

“With your permission, Captain, may I ask you something…rather personal?”

“Well, that depends?”

“Are you the same Linda Gallo, who, as a Second Lieutenant, has been wounded in action in Iraq on the 17th of April 2003?”

“That must be me? Why? How do you know, Lieutenant?”

“Well, Captain, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is William Maltz. I work at the staff of General Prescotte. We analyze shooting incidents, in order to take lessons from them and improve tactics. That is the General’s main mission. Developing new tactical doctrines. Or rather, developing THE Prescotte doctrine. The general is a little bit euh…”

“Would you call a general officer ‘vain’, Lieutenant?”
“I am sorry, Captain.”

“Never mind, Lieutenant, we both understand that General Prescotte is not the first, and definitely will not be the last general officer who is eager to make his name live forever, one way or another.”

Fifteen minutes later. The visitors had returned to the reception. Gallo and the guards were back on their positions. She was sitting on her chair again, while Karyn Greylocke continued her struggle, apparently revived. The Prescotte doctrine? What was that supposed to mean? Hadn’t Lieutenant Maltz been too careless? Hadn’t it been her duty to appeal him on that? Careless talk costs lives.

And why had Lieutenant Fortuna her invited for a drink, the next day, if she would have time…?
Very soon, she would find out why Lieutenant Maltz knew her name.

(to be continued)
 
Yes, there's such a range of talent here, so many very different stories,
yet all inspired by our strange fascination - and this is certainly a great crux story.
 
A MATTER OF HONOR (part 10) A continuation of an unfinished story started by Hammerlock in 2011.

Washington D.C., Saturday, 18th July 2020, about 02:00 a.m.

Through the nighty streets of Washington D.C., a female Army captain was walking at a fast pace. The few people she had passed by, had, without doubt, noticed her furious look.

“Madness! Shear madness!”

Captain Gallo had met Lieutenant Fortuna, but if she had suspected/expected/doubted/feared he would have had personal intentions with her, it had turned out differently. Peter Fortuna had invited her to talk business.
First, he had told her about the incident in Afghanistan, during which Karyn Greylocke had refused to carry out Prescotte’s order. This had happened while their patrol was under fire. In contrast to what the Army had communicated, the investigation had already been closed. Actually, Karyn’s unit had been under friendly fire. The reason was, that Captain Prescotte had boldly neglected to inform his own staff properly about his patrol. An ignorance that could have cost lives. The conclusions of the inquiry proposed several measures to avoid such incidents. But the report had been covered up, under General Prescotte’s pressure. Apparently, he had the influence to do so. General Prescotte was a dangerous man.

Next, Lieutenant Fortuna had explained to her, how Lieutenant Maltz knew her name and what the Prescotte doctrine was about.

US soldiers have since long been trained according to the doctrine that the Army applies lifesaving tactics. They are told that they will be assigned to safe wars, to wars where the risk to get killed in action is extremely low. Nevertheless, returning from war without any casualties was an illusion. Some got killed anyway. The adverse result of this doctrine was, that US soldiers got reluctant to take risks when involved in combat situations. None of them wanted to be one of the few to return home in a body bag. This attitude affected both moral and combat efficiency. Some officers within the Pentagon had come up with the idea that the US soldier needed more stimuli in order to perform better on the battlefield. A committee was installed, presided by (then) Major Arlton Prescotte.

The committee dug into history and discovered the old doctrine of World War One. They discovered that the slaughter in the trenches was not due to lack of doctrine, but based on two assumptions. The first one was, that the ‘drive’ of a massive attack created its own momentum. The second one was, that one of the best stimuli to strengthen a soldier’s will to fight, was seeing someone else die in combat. Someone else from his own ranks. Seeing the man next to you getting killed, was the best drive to go on, and all together, the sum of all the individual drives, kept the momentum in the attack, despite sometimes high losses. If necessary, extra stimuli were provided. Allied soldiers sometimes had to attack enemy trenches with a white cross on their back. If they did not advance fast enough, they could easily be shot in the back by soldiers from their own ranks, ordered to do so. If they would run back to their lines, they were an easy target for the enemy. Allied generals sometimes ordered their artillery to fire in their own ranks during an attack, to make the troops move faster.

For a soldier, there are few things more fundamentally encouraging and stimulating than seeing someone else die in battle. Someone of your own poor bastards. That strategy would cost more lives on the short term, but it could pay off at the end, and that is what counted. To create these stimuli, the Prescotte doctrine allowed small scale firing on own ranks, carefully avoiding that casualties would suddenly rise too high to draw public attention.

After her recovery from her battle wounds from the event of April 17th 2003, Gallo had accepted the incident as fortune of war. That day, on a patrol in Iraq, Second Lieutenant Gallo had stopped her armored vehicle, in order to observe enemy positions. Her patrol had left the car. She exposed herself to possible enemy fire, but that was her responsibility as section commander. The others had taken better cover. Although the Iraqi Army already seemed largely defeated, some resistance pockets continued fighting. In the wide neighborhood, shots, machine gun salvo’s and shell and bomb blasts were heard. Black smoke poured up in the distance. Regularly, jet fighters were flying over.

Anticipating the danger, she had taken all the precautions to keep out of sight of the enemy. She was sure she had made no mistakes, she had overlooked nothing. To her own troops, on the other hand, she was clearly visible. But that would not matter, logically? While scouting for enemy positions, she was unaware of the fact that in reality, she was a sitting duck.

Somewhere in the staff of the expeditionary force, a Major Arlton Prescotte had been studying the application of the new doctrine. The war theatre in Iraq offered the ideal test site for experiments with the new doctrine on a small scale. The goal of these experiments was to find out whether and how such orders would pass through the chain of command, and whether they would be carried out without objection.

The chain of orders that had begun with Major Arlton Prescotte, ended at the point of a missile, speeding through the air, tailing a wire, by which it was guided straight to its target. The soldier and his commanding officer who were guiding the missile at the other end of the wire, must have had knowledge that they were deliberately aiming a friendly patrol. The missile struck its target. The blast killed six. Gallo was severely wounded but survived, ironically because she was more exposed to possible enemy fire, and hence less to her own side.

The projectile that hit them, had been no mine, no shell, but a wire guided missile. These travel below the speed of sound. She had not imagined the ‘whooosh’.

Her own section had been one of the random targets of Major Prescotte’s experiments. The incident had been described in detail in secret documents. Lieutenant Maltz, who worked for Prescotte, had insight in these documents. That is why her name had sounded so familiar to him.

Knowing the truth about the incident in which she had been badly wounded, had made her furious. It had not been fortune of war! This had been murder. Murder of her subordinates, of six fine people. After her encounter with Fortuna, she took a taxi to her quarters, but she was still too angry to go to sleep. All the time, this question “What have I done?” raged through her head. She realized that the Army crucifixions were also part of the Prescotte doctrine. It does not matter where you see someone of your own ranks die, on the battlefield far from home, or on a cross in Washington D.C.. She had been herself become a small part of the Prescotte doctrine, by talking condemned to their crosses, by convincing them that they would save lives by doing so. “Madness!” she kept thinking, while she walked the four mile distance from her quarters to the Old Arsenal Barracks through nighty Washington D.C. She joined the already very weakened Karyn Greylocke, who was only hardly conscious of what was happening around her. Gallo stayed there until Karyn passed away, several hours later.

Epilogue 1.

To Colonel(ret.) Michael Greylocke

July 20nd 2020.

Colonel,

I have the sad duty to inform you that your daughter, Sergeant Karyn Greylocke, has died on Saturday 18st of July 2020, around 11:05 a.m. EDT in the service of her country. Sergeant Greylocke had volunteered for a special assignment, fully aware of the clear and present danger involved in her mission. She has undertaken the mission with courage, bravery and gallantry above and beyond the call of duty. Sergeant Greylocke will be posthumously awarded a third Purple Heart. Furthermore, I would like to inform you that, at July 17st 2020, Sergeant Greylocke has been awarded the Bronze Star Medal for her conduct in combat on January 27th 2020 near Kunduz, Afghanistan, in which she voluntarily exposed herself to heavy enemy fire, in order to save and retrieve a wounded and disabled soldier.

Signed,

Colonel Grover Cleveland VanSant IV
Battalion Commander.

Epilogue 2.

A year later.

Wednesday, July 21th 2021. 02:17 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time. Washington D.C.
BREAKING NEWS! Communique from the Pentagon. More to follow soon!

(to be continued)
 
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