Showing posts with label 8b. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 8b. Show all posts

Chapter 111: What To Do Next


"Perhaps you'd prefer this armchair?"
"Either you have gone completely insane," said Mycroft, "or you are far better informed than I am. I don't see any sign of insanity -- do you, doctor? So I suppose I must assume you know a good deal more than I do, which leaves me with two immediate questions."

"Fire when ready," replied Sherlock.

"Why didn't you tell me any of this before now?" asked Mycroft.

"Our paths have not crossed very often recently," said Sherlock, "and the subject has never come up. But even if it had, would you have been ready to listen?"

"No," admitted Mycroft. "Probably not."

"Question two?" prompted Sherlock.

"What to do next," said Mycroft.

"In what sense?" asked his brother.

"With my life!" replied Mycroft. "If you are right, I have assisted in the commission of horrible crimes -- unwittingly, perhaps, but horrible nonetheless. What's done is done, and surely it cannot be undone, and yet -- yet there must be some way that I can make amends."

"You're serious?" asked Sherlock.

"Never more so," replied Mycroft.

"Then I must congratulate you," said Sherlock. "Many people lack the courage, the integrity, the strength of character to admit that they've been lied to, and that they've believed the lies they've been told."

"How long have you known me?" asked Mycroft.

"Practically forever," replied his brother.

"Then you should know," continued Mycroft, "that no congratulations are required. Like you, Sherlock, I am a man of logic and reason. If I have promoted murderous lies -- and it appears that I have done so -- I am compelled to do whatever I can to reverse the damage I have done."

"Most of the damage is probably irreversible," said Sherlock, "but if you throw your efforts onto the side of truth and justice, you may yet do some good."

"But how?" replied Mycroft. "I'm a man of habit, structure, and regular routine. My entire adult life has revolved around my job, which I no longer have. Not that I would want it back, but I do need something to replace it.

"Certainly, I wish to work for truth and justice, but, as you say, I am an analyst. I am not by nature a gatherer of intelligence. I am accustomed to working as part of a team, classifying, organizing, and even synthesizing information. But the information needs to come from somewhere. I can't do that part myself."

"As I have told Watson," said Sherlock, "you would have been a better detective than I am, if you had the energy to quit your armchair and do the necessary leg-work. But if you could apply your skills in a situation where incoming data were evaluated on the basis of truth, or lack thereof, rather than for political value, you could hardly avoid becoming a valuable asset."

"But to whom?" pressed Mycroft. "Where? To be honest, I would be more inclined to celebrate my new-found freedom if I were as confident of my prospects as you seem to be."

"Ah, Mycroft," replied his brother, "your problem may be far less serious than you think. Men with your powers of deduction are exceedingly rare, and always in demand, somewhere or other. I happen to know of a position which has recently become available and which would suit you very well."

"Truly?" asked Mycroft.

"Yes indeed," replied Sherlock. "You are far better qualified than any other candidate, or potential candidate, so the only real question would be whether you wanted the job."

"Salary?" asked Mycroft.

"Adequate, if not exactly generous," replied Sherlock.

"Hours?"

"Far more flexible than you would require."

"Duties?"

"Mostly sitting, reading, and thinking. Some talking. Maybe a bit of writing now and then."

"Travel?"

"None."

"Excellent. Working conditions?"

"As comfortable as you could hope for. Are you happy on the couch? Perhaps you'd prefer this armchair? Would you like some more fruit, or some more tea?"

"Are you serious?" asked Mycroft.

"Absolutely," replied Sherlock. "We need the help. You need the work. You'd be perfect for the job, and it would be perfect for you. You would work here, with Watson and myself, or alone if we happen to be away."

"May I have some time to think about it?" asked Mycroft.

"Yes, of course," replied Sherlock. "Take all the time you need."

"All right," said Mycroft. "I've thought about it. When can I start?"

Chapter 112: A New Perspective

Previous: What To Do Next

"empire is not a matter of glory and honour,
but one of murder and exploitation"
"You certainly can't start yet," said Sherlock Holmes to his brother, "although I must say I admire your enthusiasm. You'll need to eat well, and sleep soundly, for at least a couple of days before you can think clearly enough to help us. If you'll excuse me for a moment, I will see what arrangements can be made.

"Mrs. Hudson!" called Sherlock as he stepped through the doorway.

"May I pour you another cup of tea?" I asked when Mycroft and I were alone.

"Certainly, doctor," he replied. "Yes, please."

"Are you sure it won't keep you awake?" I asked.

"Not very likely," he replied. "It has been so long since I slept."

"I understand how difficult it can be to sleep soundly," I said, thinking back to my dreams of the man in the padlocked holdall. "You are probably in a mild state of shock, mentally if not also physically. So you can expect certain difficulties while you recover. But I will keep an eye on you, and if you need medical help, it won't be far away."

Mycroft looked at me very intently and said, "What sort of difficulties?"

"You might have more trouble sleeping than you think," I replied. "It may take a few days for your appetite to reappear. You might experience periods of restlessness, or lethargy. Everyone reacts differently."

"Go on," he said.

"Those are the most common short-term effects," I continued. "Some of the other changes will likely be permanent.

"How so?" asked Mycroft.

"an attempt to conquer the world"
"You are on the path to a new perspective," I answered. "Once you begin to understand that the present wars are all 'justified' by deliberate lies, and that the lies are promoted, and their hideous effects hidden, by all the major news sources, it will change your views of everything: the world, your country, and especially the role your country has played in the world.

"You may find yourself thinking about conflicts in the Falklands, or in Northern Ireland, or some of our other recent interventions in foreign countries, and questioning the justifications presented to the public. You may think back to the role you have played in these events, and recall some of the lies you believed at the time, and some of the actions you took which you would rather not have taken. It is a natural reaction, and it is never pleasant, but I assure you it is most necessary."

Mycroft nodded slowly, inviting me to continue.

"You may find yourself looking even farther afield, and deeper into history," I said, "and seeing it all in a much different light."

"How far are you thinking?" asked Mycroft.

"As far as you are willing to go," I replied. "The empire brought brutal repression to Africa, India, Malaya, and many other places. In Australia, we claimed ownership of an entire continent, and turned it into an open-air prison. We shipped the worst of our criminals there, to ravage the natives -- and ravage they did -- when they'd had enough of killing one another!

"When you begin to see that empire is not a matter of glory and honour, but one of murder and exploitation, you will recall an endless list of grievous incidents, all too painful to contemplate. And yet you will feel compelled examine them closely, as they are sources of valuable knowledge.

"So many men were killed..."
"As you may have heard, I was wounded in Afghanistan, where I was an Army surgeon. At the time, I saw my role as an honourable one, driven by mercy and compassion, and my injury as a tragic consequence of my service. But now, I see the entire campaign as a tragic malfeasance, and the damage to my shoulder as my penalty for having participated in it.

"I got off lightly. So many men were killed, or wounded much more seriously than I was. And plenty of other people -- 'savages,' we called them -- suffered far worse than we did, although none of them had ever attacked our country, nor could they have. We were the transgressors. They were trying to defend their homes and families -- just as we should do were the roles reversed.

"What made us 'civilized' and our victims 'savages?' Was it because we were so willing to spend our lives and fortunes building lethal weapons, and using them in an attempt to conquer the world? Is this what civilized people do?

"Were we simply gullible, eager to believe the lies we were told, and willing to do horrible things because of them? Or were we the savages?

"It has taken me a long time to understand this. But now that I do, the whole world looks different to me. I will never again see it as I once did.

"I see," said Mycroft.

"You will," I replied. "Before very long you will have a new perspective on everything."

Chapter 113: Needle In A Haystack


Soon we were enjoying a most excellent meal.
Sherlock Holmes returned with a flourish, showing a hint of his usual energy. "I have made some arrangements," he said, "and I hope they will meet with your approval."

"What arrangements have you made?" asked Mycroft.

"I've ordered lunch for three," replied Sherlock. "Mrs. Hudson will be arriving shortly with homemade vegetable soup, roast beef sandwiches, and a garden salad."

"Sounds lovely," said Mycroft. "So far, I can hardly complain."

"I have also found you a quiet place to sleep," added his brother.

"How did you do that so quickly?" asked Mycroft.

"I simply asked Mrs. Hudson if she had any rooms available," replied Sherlock. "Fortunately for us, one of her other tenants has recently departed. She had just finished cleaning the flat, but had not begun to advertise it. So I've saved her the trouble of finding another tenant."

Mycroft looked puzzled. "You can stay there for the rest of the week, or a month, or indefinitely," said Sherlock. "Whatever suits you."

"I already have a flat," said Mycroft.

"And you can return to it whenever you're ready," said Sherlock. "But in the meantime, won't you let your brother and his friend look after you, at least until you've recovered from your shock?"

"Shock?" replied Mycroft with a glance in my direction. "Why, I suppose it is the right word. It has been a very difficult week."

"I cannot promise an end to the difficulties," said Sherlock. "Some of what we have to do will be taxing in the extreme. But I am sure that you will manage quite well, once you have recovered your strength."

"What is there for me to do?" asked Mycroft.

"I''ll give you an answer in a couple of days," replied Sherlock. "At present, you only need to eat and sleep."

"Dr. Watson was saying I can expect to have trouble with both," said Mycroft.

"I wouldn't be a bit surprised if you do," said Sherlock, "but only for a short while."

Mrs. Hudson appeared in the doorway with a tray of sandwiches. "I will return with the soup and salad," she said. "And perhaps you would like some more fruit for dessert?"

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Hudson," said Mycroft. "I am very grateful for all three of you," he added, looking around the room.

"It's a pleasure, sir," said the landlady, picking up the half-empty tray of fruit. "I'll return with the rest of your lunch in a few minutes."

Mrs. Hudson was as good as her word, and soon we were enjoying a most excellent meal. Mycroft ventured to ask a few questions, but Sherlock refused to answer any of them.

"Enjoy the food," he said. "We will have plenty of time for serious matters in the days to come."

When we had finished eating, Sherlock passed the humidor around, and we smoked some very fine cigars. Then Sherlock and I carried Mycroft's bags to the flat Sherlock had rented for him.

"Make yourself comfortable," said Sherlock to his brother. "Dr. Watson and I will be in our usual places, so don't hesitate to come to us if you need anything. But do try to sleep as much as you can. It will do you a world of good."

"It will do you some good to forget about the world, too," I added, and Mycroft nodded.

"Thank you, Sherlock," he said. "And thank you, too, Dr. Watson. I appreciate your very kind attention."

"You're most welcome," said Sherlock. "Sleep well."

Mycroft began to unpack a few things. We left him and returned to our flat.

"That was quite a turn of events, no?" said Sherlock with a hint of a smile. "This changes the dynamic considerably. He's not fond of physical exertion, but you won't find a better thinker anywhere.

"Give him a few days to recover, and then we'll find that adding Mycroft to our team has doubled our brain-power."

"Seriously?" I asked. "Do you really think he's as smart as you are?"

"No, Watson," replied Sherlock. "I think he's smarter than the two of us put together!"

"You're being modest, I take it," I said.

"On the contrary," replied the detective. "I do not count modesty as a virtue. It is as likely to warp the truth as conceit. I am telling you this because it's true."

I nodded and Sherlock continued. "How are you doing with your research on the Pat Tillman story?"

"I have made no progress whatsoever," I replied.

"I have made no progress on my current line of inquiry, either," said my friend. "So we're even."

"I was about to resume my work," I said, "unless you would like me to do something else."

"That will be fine," said Sherlock. "When Mycroft joins us, I may need to divert you for a while. But that won't happen until Wednesday at the earliest. In the meantime, I will leave you to it.

"What sort of needle are you looking for?"
"I need to step out for a while," he continued. "I wonder whether you would be good enough to keep an eye on my brother while I am gone?"

"Yes, of course," I said. "May I ask where you're going?"

"You may certainly ask," he replied. "But I can hardly tell you. I'm not quite sure, myself."

The grease-stained mechanic stepped into his bedroom and emerged a few minutes later in a completely different disguise. "You never cease to amaze me, Holmes," I said when I saw him.

"Good!" said he. "Let us see whether I can pull a needle from a haystack, and amaze you a second time."

"What sort of needle are you looking for?" I asked.

"Shh!" he replied, with a finger to his lips. And then he slipped quietly away.

Chapter 114: Pure Fiction


This plaque honouring Pat Tillman at the
National Infantry Museum perpetuates the fiction
that he was killed in an enemy ambush.
Sherlock Holmes did not return until late that evening. So, for the next several hours, apart from checking on Mycroft once in a while, I had nothing to do except look through the files for stories about Pat Tillman.

The files were huge and organized chronologically, so the search was somewhat difficult. But I found a few dozen clippings, spanning an interval of nearly five years. The story they told was so complicated and changed so often that I found it almost impossible to follow.

My main objective, as Holmes and I had discussed, was information which might be helpful to the family of Gareth Williams. And I tried to keep this in mind as I was reading. But I felt myself being overwhelmed with, and fascinated by, many other issues.

How and why had Pat Tillman died in Afghanistan? And what was behind the events that followed, in which his family repeatedly tried to find out what had happened to him, and the government told them -- and the world -- outrageous lies?

I found myself drawn to such questions, even though I felt I couldn't possibly answer them. But, despite my best intentions, I could not shake them, either.

Was Pat Tillman killed deliberately, to prevent him from airing his criticisms of the war in Iraq, and of the Bush administration? Or was he killed by accident, and if that were the case, why had the government gone to such lengths to conceal the truth from his family?

There was no doubt that the truth had been concealed, and a succession of cover stories had been fabricated. The files referred to seven different investigations, each of which had apparently revealed very little actual information, other than highlighting the flaws in its predecessor.

The truth of the story had been held back with remarkable tenacity. That much was clear to me. But what was the truth behind all the lies?

Would anyone ever find out? It seemed well beyond my humble powers.

I thought back to when Holmes had asked me to research the "Liquid Bombers," and remembered how he told me to simply find the information, and let him figure out what it all meant. But I was not satisfied to do so in this case.

So I gathered up all the relevant articles and put them in a folder of their own. Then I checked on Mycroft, and, finding him sleeping soundly, I returned to the flat, sat down with the folder, and began to read through all the clippings again.

The earliest clipping was dated Monday, April 26, 2004, four days after Tillman's death. Among various tributes to Tillman's courage and patriotism, it reported:
U.S. military spokesman Lt. Col. Matthew Beevers said Saturday that Tillman was killed Thursday night in a firefight at about 7 p.m. on a road near Sperah, about 25 miles southwest of a U.S. base at Khost.

After coming under fire, Tillman’s patrol got out of their vehicles and gave chase, moving toward the spot of the ambush. Beevers said the fighting was “sustained” and lasted 15-20 minutes.

Beevers said Tillman was killed by enemy fire, but he had no information about what type of weapons were involved in the assault, or whether he died instantly.

An Afghan militiaman fighting alongside Tillman also was killed, and two other U.S. soldiers were wounded.

A local Afghan commander, Gen. Khial Bas, told The Associated Press that nine enemy fighters were killed in the confrontation.

Bas said six other enemy fighters were believed to have escaped.
Subsequent events showed that these details were almost entirely false. There was no "ambush." There was no "sustained" fighting. No "enemy fighters" were killed, or even reported in the area. No enemy rounds were found at the scene. Only the date of Tillman's death was correct.

Nevertheless, he was poshumously awarded a Silver Star and a Purple Heart, and promoted to Corporal. The Silver Star citation said:
During a ground assault convoy in Afghanistan Tillman’s platoon was split into two sections. Tillman was the team leader of the lead section when the trail section began receiving suppressive mortar and small arms fire. The nature of the cavernous terrain made it extremely difficult to target enemy positions and there was no room for the trail element to maneuver out of the kill zone.

Although Tillman’s element was already safely out of the area under fire Tillman ordered his team to dismount and maneuver his team up a hill towards the enemy’s location.

As Tillman crested the hill he maneuvered his team into positions and himself with the M249 Squad Automatic Weapon (SAW) returned suppressive fire.

Through the firing Tillman’s voice was issuing fire commands to take the fight to the enemy on the dominating high ground.

Only after his team engaged a well-armed enemy did it appear their fires diminished.

While Tillman focused his efforts, and those of his team members without regard to his personal safety he was shot and killed.
The claim that "Tillman's platoon was split into two sections" turned out to be true. But the rest of the story was pure fiction.

The fiction had political value, which was heavily exploited, beginning almost immediately. A memorial service was held in California, and televised nationally. Pat Tillman's life -- sacrificed in an attempt to save the rest of his unit from enemy ambush -- was held up as a glorious example of courage, honour, and patriotism. And the Bush administration, mired in Iraq, with the Abu Ghraib prison abuse scandal breaking, desperate for some good news, basked in all the reflected glory and honour it could generate.

But the fiction could not be maintained indefinitely. It couldn't even be maintained for very long. The surviving members of Tillman's unit knew that things had not happened in the way they were described. They were all due to rotate back to the States when their tours of duty in Afghanistan were completed. And one of them was Pat's brother, Kevin.

Next: Worm Dirt

Chapter 115: Worm Dirt

Previous: Pure Fiction

Lt. Col. Ralph Kauzlarich
Five weeks after the death of Pat Tillman, and three weeks after the memorial service, just as the surviving members of his battalion were coming home, his parents were notified that the Army now believed he had "probably been a victim of fratricide," killed accidentally by members of his own platoon.

The unit, trying to move a disabled Humvee through the mountains, had been split into two groups, which had become separated and had lost communication. Pat's group had been ambushed, and had engaged in a firefight with the enemy. The other group had come to their assistance. In the confusion that ensued, the leader of the other group had mistakenly fired at Pat, and the others had followed his lead. Tillman, still heroically leading the fight against the enemy ambush, was hit by this "friendly fire," and died as a result. Or at least that's the story the Army was now telling.

As the Washington Post reported on May 30, 2004:
New details released yesterday about Tillman's death indicate that he was gunned down by members of his elite Army Ranger platoon who mistakenly shot in his direction when the unit was ambushed. According to a summary of the Army investigation, a Ranger squad leader mistook an allied Afghan Militia Force soldier standing near Tillman as the enemy, and he and other U.S. soldiers opened fire, killing both men.

That Tillman, 27, wasn't killed by enemy fire in a heroic rescue attempt was a major revelation by the U.S. military more than a month after the April 22 incident, which the Pentagon and members of Congress had hailed as an example of combat bravery.
The Post report, written by Josh White, also says:
Military officials could not explain the discrepancy between earlier reports and the releases yesterday, saying that a month-long investigation into the attack helped clarify the events. The investigation reports that Tillman was killed after he got out of his vehicle and fought about a dozen insurgents in restricted terrain and in poor light conditions.
White quotes Lt. Gen. Philip R. Kensinger Jr. as saying:
"While there was no one specific finding of fault, the investigation results indicate that Corporal Tillman probably died as a result of friendly fire while his unit was engaged in combat with enemy forces."
and
"The results of this investigation in no way diminish the bravery and sacrifice displayed by Corporal Tillman. Corporal Tillman was shot and killed while responding to enemy fire without regard for his own safety."
The story was false and the Tillmans didn't buy it. In addition to the obvious questions, such as "When did the Army brass find out it was fratricide?" and "Why did it take them so long to tell the family?" they raised more questions, such as "What really happened to Pat?" and "Why is the Army lying about it?"

Thanks, no doubt, to Pat's celebrity, the family attracted considerable political support. Some of it came from Republican Senator John McCain of Arizona (where Pat had played both college and professional football). He was joined by Democratic Congressman Mike Honda of San Jose, California, who pushed for a Congressional investigation into Pat Tillman's death and the obvious duplicity in which it was shrouded.

This duplicity may not have come as much of a surprise to Pat Tillman, had he lived to see it. By the time of his death, he was just beginning to penetrate the web of deception spun by the Bush administration in the wake of 9/11. He knew that the war in Iraq was "justified" by lies, and he wasn't shy about saying so. "This war is so [bleep] illegal!" he had told his fellow Rangers while in Iraq, and he had urged them to vote for Senator John Kerry, who "opposed" George W. Bush in the 2004 presidential election.

But when Pat had said, "This war," the emphasis had been on the word "this." Pat was anxious to get out of Iraq so that he could go back to Afghanistan and participate in the "hunt" for Osama bin Laden. Clearly, he had penetrated some of the lies, but not all of them. Likewise, his support for John Kerry showed that he failed to understand what the Democratic presidential candidate was all about.

Senator Kerry, who had been a vocal opponent of the war in Vietnam, and who was being portrayed as a leftist, anti-war candidate, was in fact trying to out-flank Bush on the right. "We need more allies in Iraq," Kerry was saying. "We need more troops."

Pat Tillman's political analysis may seem shallow in hindsight, especially if one disregards the milieu in which it was formed and articulated. But for a young man who jumped from the heavily militaristic NFL, to the Army, and then to the Rangers, his analysis was quite sophisticated.

His willingness to express his opinions freely, at a time when any opposition to the president, or his wars, was being portrayed as tantamount to treason, showed the honesty and courage for which he was respected by his peers -- so much so that his former teammates had called him "Braveheart."

Pat Tillman wasn't shy about his religious beliefs, either, according to
a chaplain who debriefed the entire unit days after Tillman was killed.

The chaplain said that [Spc. Bryan] O'Neal told him he was hugging the ground at Tillman's side, "crying out to God, help us." And Tillman says to him, "Would you shut your (expletive) mouth? God's not going to help you; you need to do something for yourself, you sniveling ..."
If nothing else, the Tillman family's religious beliefs provided a weapon which the Army didn't hesitate to use against them. As ABC News reported in 2006,
Lt. Col. Ralph Kauzlarich [...] said investigators would not still be examining the killing if it were not for Tillman's NFL celebrity -- he walked away from a multimillion-dollar contract with the Arizona Cardinals when he enlisted -- and the pressure brought to bear by Tillman's family or a number of Washington politicos.

"His parents continue to ask for it to be looked at," Kauzlarich said. "And that is really their prerogative. And if they have the right backing, the right powerful people in our government to continue to let it happen, then that is the case."

"But there [have] been numerous unfortunate cases of fratricide, and the parents have basically said, 'OK, it was an unfortunate accident.' And they let it go. So this is -- I don't know, these people have a hard time letting it go. It may be because of their religious beliefs."
What did Kauzlarich know about the family's religious beliefs?
In a transcript of his interview with Brig. Gen. Gary Jones during a November 2004 investigation, Kauzlarich said he'd learned Kevin Tillman, Pat's brother and fellow Army Ranger who was a part of the battle the night Pat Tillman died, objected to the presence of a chaplain and the saying of prayers during a repatriation ceremony in Germany before his brother's body was returned to the United States.

Kauzlarich, now a battalion commanding officer at Fort Riley in Kansas, further suggested the Tillman family's unhappiness with the findings of past investigations might be because of the absence of a Christian faith in their lives.

In an interview with ESPN.com, Kauzlarich said: "When you die, I mean, there is supposedly a better life, right? Well, if you are an atheist and you don't believe in anything, if you die, what is there to go to? Nothing. You are worm dirt. So for their son to die for nothing, and now he is no more -- that is pretty hard to get your head around that. So I don't know how an atheist thinks. I can only imagine that that would be pretty tough."
The same ABC piece pointed out that
Kauzlarich, now 40, was the Ranger regiment executive officer in Afghanistan, making him ultimately responsible for the conduct of the fateful operation in which Pat Tillman died. Kauzlarich later played a role in writing the recommendation for the posthumous Silver Star. And finally, with his fingerprints already all over many of the hot-button issues, including the question of who ordered the platoon to be split as it dragged a disabled Humvee through the mountains, Kauzlarich conducted the first official Army investigation into Tillman's death.
Mary Tillman, Pat's mother, described the family as
spiritual, though she said it does not believe in many of the fundamental aspects of organized religion.
And she didn't appreciate Kauzlarich's remarks any more than she believed the story he was telling.
"Well, this guy makes disparaging remarks about the fact that we're not Christians, and the reason that we can't put Pat to rest is because we're not Christians," [she] said in an interview with ESPN.com. [...] "Oh, it has nothing to do with the fact that this whole thing is shady," she said sarcastically, "But it is because we are not Christians."

After a pause, her voice full with emotion, she added, "Pat may not have been what you call a Christian. He was about the best person I ever knew. I mean, he was just a good guy. He didn't lie. He was very honest. He was very generous. He was very humble. I mean, he had an ego, but it was a healthy ego. It is like, everything those [people] are, he wasn't."

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