Wig Betrayed by Charles Courtley Page B

VIP lounge at Heathrow Airport that he was not fit to catch a flight until the following day. Having finally arrived, he was duly accommodated in the Berlin Garrison’s senior officers’ mess where he had met up with the mess bore (a retired colonel employed as a blanket counter in the stores), and the two had stayed up until the early hours drinking and yarning about their experiences of National Service.
    â€œSo Sir Fred’s now been prevailed upon to withdraw altogether, Major Rashleigh will take over the case. He’s asking for a short adjournment to get his tackle into order,” the embarrassed captain concluded.
    â€œAll right, half an hour then. It’s a simple enough case.”
    When Rashleigh finally rose to his feet, the smell of stale booze and vomit still lingered in the air. Wrinkling his nose, he flipped his hand open, palm upwards, as he spoke.
    â€œSir, members, I believe that you have been told that Sir Fred has withdrawn from the case. I believe that you know enough about the facts already so we can proceed. However, in order for us to do so it will be necessary for the court to travel down to Brockendorf and reassemble at the Fortress to hear the General’s evidence.”
    â€œWhy? That means even more delay!” I said, appalled.
    â€œUnfortunately, the General indicated that he was only available in Berlin for a day. He’s now back at his headquarters and can’t come back.”
    I was furious.
    â€œMajor Rashleigh – this case was specifically sent to Berlin so that it could be tried outside General Hudibrass’s chain of command. What you are suggesting is that we hear a vital part of the case – his evidence – back at BAOR headquarters. It’s simply intolerable!”
    Rashleigh looked pained.
    â€œWell, that’s what I told Colonel Kayward also but he said it was just too bad. The general simply refuses to return.”
    â€œMr Clibbery, what do you say?”
    â€œQuite inappropriate, sir, for the General to remain on his patch when giving evidence. Defeats the purpose of removing the case to Berlin.”
    It was at this point that Brigadier Drubb intervened.
    â€œTell the General that he must do what the judge advocate requires – that’s now a direct order.”
    â€œDoes that help?” she whispered to me. “Even a general can’t disobey the command of a court martial, surely?”
    I was not entirely certain. Normally, only a field marshal could order a general to do anything but common sense eventually prevailed after I indicated we were not going to move in any circumstances.
    So finally, General Hudibrass stood before us like any other witness in a court of law. He saluted the seated members of the board, which I’m glad to say was not reciprocated. Queen’s Regulations made it clear that a military witness attending a court martial should salute it as a matter of respect but it would be inappropriate for it to be returned by the board.
    â€œYou may sit, General,” Brigadier Drubb said in her best ‘nurse in charge’ voice.
    Rashleigh took him briefly through his evidence-in-chief which was simple enough, confirming that he found his favourite club to be missing shortly after playing at the Gut Larchenhof club. Now, it was Clibbery’s turn to cross-examine.
    â€œGeneral, because of your senior rank you are entitled, are you not, to an official driver whether on or off duty?”
    â€œBeing in command 24 hours a day, I have a driver available to me at all times, yes.”
    â€œBut the same principle wouldn’t apply to a golf caddy, would it? Your exalted position entitles you to many things – but not that, surely?”
    There was a pause.
    â€œThe golf caddies are drawn from the pool of service personnel who provide the drivers.”
    â€œQuite so. But being a caddy is hardly the same thing as being a driver, is it?”
    â€œNot exactly, no.