well, because at the position of attention I couldn’t move my head, but out of the corner of my eye I could tell he wore a ton of ribbons on his chest. He took three even steps forward until he stood in the glow cast by the lights over the table.
“At ease,” said the officer. We all shifted so that we stood with our feet shoulder width apart and our hands behind our backs. Now that I was allowed to move my head, I saw he was a short man, broad in the chest, with his little remaining gray hair buzzed short to Army regulations. “I’m Brigadier General McNabb, Commander, Idaho Army National Guard.” The general looked at each of us in turn. “You soldiers can relax. Have a seat.”
We all sat down. General McNabb remained standing. “We’ve secured your weapons and counted the rounds. Eight rounds are missing from this squad’s initial load, one from one rifle, three from another, and four rounds from a third. Now I want to know what happened out there.”
All of us except for the lieutenant exchanged nervous glances around the table. Sergeant Kemp stood up. “Sir, I respectfully request that I be allowed to speak with an attorney before —”
“You don’t need a lawyer, Sergeant. No charges have been filed. I’m trying to find out what happened.”
“Nevertheless, sir, I think that under the circumstances —”
“This isn’t open to negotiation, Sergeant! This isn’t a happy, peaceful civilian world. There are twelve people dead out there. Nine more have injuries from gunshots, including two of my soldiers. I am ordering all of you to tell me what the hell happened!”
Silence fell on the room. Twelve people dead. Twenty-one people had been shot. My mouth felt watery, my stomach cold and hollow. I put my hands to my face for a moment until I smelled the blood. The redheaded girl’s blood was still caked in my fingernails, still sticking my pants to my knees.
I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to throw up again.
The door opened at the end of the room, but I didn’t move or look to see who it was. Luchen grabbed my arm and pulled me up.
Governor Montaine approached the table, wearing a blue suit and tie with a white shirt. His graying brown hair was sticking up funny. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a small plastic ashtray. He placed the cigarette in his mouth, flicked the lighter, and lit up, holding out the pack toward our squad. “Smoke?”
I would have loved a cigarette right about then, but nobody else was taking, so I kept my mouth shut.
“It’s a government building, sir,” said Sergeant Kemp.
The man removed his jacket. “That it is. I’m Governor James Montaine.” He hung his coat on the chair, rolled up his sleeves, and loosened his tie. “Sometimes I think we can bend stupid little rules, especially on nights like tonight. Relax. Please sit down.”
We took our seats. The governor flicked a little ash into the ashtray. He pulled another long drag on his cigarette. “I’m not going to lie to you boys. I’m all about straight talk in my campaigns, and believe it or not, I believe in straight talk. And the simple fact is that we are in a world of shit. I have phone calls from everyone all the way to the Pentagon. That guy in the White House will probably be calling soon enough. The press is going crazy, naming this the Battle of Boise. Everybody wants to know what really happened. Why don’t you start by telling me?”
Sergeant Meyers stood up at attention. “Sir, our squad was ordered to go downtown to hold position near the riot. The protestors were out of control, sir.”
“I know that, Sergeant. That’s why I called in the National Guard in the first place. Why did you start shooting?”
I saw Meyers’s eyes dart my way for a second. “Sir, there were armed civilians among the protestors. We took fire. At that point Lieutenant McFee gave the order to shoot those protestors who had
“At ease,” said the officer. We all shifted so that we stood with our feet shoulder width apart and our hands behind our backs. Now that I was allowed to move my head, I saw he was a short man, broad in the chest, with his little remaining gray hair buzzed short to Army regulations. “I’m Brigadier General McNabb, Commander, Idaho Army National Guard.” The general looked at each of us in turn. “You soldiers can relax. Have a seat.”
We all sat down. General McNabb remained standing. “We’ve secured your weapons and counted the rounds. Eight rounds are missing from this squad’s initial load, one from one rifle, three from another, and four rounds from a third. Now I want to know what happened out there.”
All of us except for the lieutenant exchanged nervous glances around the table. Sergeant Kemp stood up. “Sir, I respectfully request that I be allowed to speak with an attorney before —”
“You don’t need a lawyer, Sergeant. No charges have been filed. I’m trying to find out what happened.”
“Nevertheless, sir, I think that under the circumstances —”
“This isn’t open to negotiation, Sergeant! This isn’t a happy, peaceful civilian world. There are twelve people dead out there. Nine more have injuries from gunshots, including two of my soldiers. I am ordering all of you to tell me what the hell happened!”
Silence fell on the room. Twelve people dead. Twenty-one people had been shot. My mouth felt watery, my stomach cold and hollow. I put my hands to my face for a moment until I smelled the blood. The redheaded girl’s blood was still caked in my fingernails, still sticking my pants to my knees.
I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to throw up again.
The door opened at the end of the room, but I didn’t move or look to see who it was. Luchen grabbed my arm and pulled me up.
Governor Montaine approached the table, wearing a blue suit and tie with a white shirt. His graying brown hair was sticking up funny. He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and a small plastic ashtray. He placed the cigarette in his mouth, flicked the lighter, and lit up, holding out the pack toward our squad. “Smoke?”
I would have loved a cigarette right about then, but nobody else was taking, so I kept my mouth shut.
“It’s a government building, sir,” said Sergeant Kemp.
The man removed his jacket. “That it is. I’m Governor James Montaine.” He hung his coat on the chair, rolled up his sleeves, and loosened his tie. “Sometimes I think we can bend stupid little rules, especially on nights like tonight. Relax. Please sit down.”
We took our seats. The governor flicked a little ash into the ashtray. He pulled another long drag on his cigarette. “I’m not going to lie to you boys. I’m all about straight talk in my campaigns, and believe it or not, I believe in straight talk. And the simple fact is that we are in a world of shit. I have phone calls from everyone all the way to the Pentagon. That guy in the White House will probably be calling soon enough. The press is going crazy, naming this the Battle of Boise. Everybody wants to know what really happened. Why don’t you start by telling me?”
Sergeant Meyers stood up at attention. “Sir, our squad was ordered to go downtown to hold position near the riot. The protestors were out of control, sir.”
“I know that, Sergeant. That’s why I called in the National Guard in the first place. Why did you start shooting?”
I saw Meyers’s eyes dart my way for a second. “Sir, there were armed civilians among the protestors. We took fire. At that point Lieutenant McFee gave the order to shoot those protestors who had
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