on the
sick list, wouldn't you? But he was all right in health. I don't know
what was the matter with Vandyke, except that I happened to hear our old
Doc say he had a temperature way up in C. Maybe it was stage fright. I
felt like that myself--queer all over when the time came, as a fellow
does when he's just going to be seasick.

"The court-martial was what you call a 'field-general court-martial,'
which can be convened when forces are on active service, as of course we
are now (though we've had nothing very active to do, except on a certain
night none of us will forget, and on Army Day when we all marched and
sweated to give the populace an impressive show). A field general
court-martial can try cases just as grave as a general court-martial
can, and its proceedings are conducted with more secrecy. It consists of
not less than three officers, none of them under the rank of captain,
but the president of the court may be a general officer, a colonel, or
lieutenant-colonel. In this case, which was considered very important,
both on account of March's fine record and the necessary secrecy that
had to be maintained, we had the general commanding the Fort for
president, and the other two officers of the court were a colonel and a
major. I don't think you met either of them when you were here, so their
names wouldn't interest you.

"The courtroom was just a plain ordinary room in the barracks at Fort
Bliss; but there wasn't a map or copy of 'rules and regulations' hanging
on the yellowish white walls that I can't see now, whenever I shut my
eyes. I guess they were all photographed on my 'mental retina,' as the
writing folks say. The three officers were in full uniform, to do honour
to the case, and of course there wasn't a man present dressed in 'cits.'
All were army chaps, even to the headquarters clerk who took notes of
the proceedings, the orderly who kept the door, and the witnesses. There
weren't many of those. I was one of the principal witnesses and you've
heard from me before how little I had to say.

"March, who as prisoner had to be formally conducted in by an officer,
had a seat on the left of the judges' table, and his friend, Major Dell,
sat beside him. If you could have been a fly on that beastly wall,
looking down at your hero, I guess you'd have been proud of the way he
held himself. If he'd been brought there to receive a medal of honour
instead of to be tried for a big, insane sort of offence calculated