As Hunter took his seat, the XO, COB and the chain of command for the two accused crewmembers entered and arranged themselves around the table. The XO stood at Hunter’s right hand, the COB took station at the door. They had all exchanged their normal underway blue coveralls for dress khaki uniforms.
“XO, are we ready?” Hunter asked.
With that, the arrayed officers and chiefs came to parade rest.
“Yes, sir. All parties are in attendance,” Fagan replied crisply.
“Very well. COB, call the accused,” the Commander ordered.
The two forlorn sailors marched in to the wardroom and stood before the green table at rigid attention. At the COB’s sharply barked order, the pair rendered a crisp salute and then removed their covers.
CDR Hunter read solemnly from a prepared script. “Chief Petty Officer Richey, Seaman Martinez, you stand before me accused of a violation of article 132 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, in that you knowingly and willingly submitted a false official record, to wit, an enlistment contract for Seaman Martinez that falsely stated that Seaman Martinez had graduated from high school. As you have been advised by the executive officer, a Captain’s Mast is not a trial by court martial and the rules of evidence that apply in a trial by court martial do not apply here. You have each been advised by the Executive Officer of your rights. Do you understand these rights?”
The pair chorused, “Yes sir!”
“How do you plead, guilty or not guilty?” Hunter questioned.
Staring rigidly straight ahead, they both stammered, “Guilty, sir.”
“Very well, before I pass sentence, are there any mitigating or extenuating circumstances that I should take into account?" Hunter asked.
With a slight hesitation, they answered, “No, sir.”
Putting down the script, he peered up at the two sailors standing before him. “You two have seen the report of the investigation that the Navigator conducted and read all the findings. Do you want to tell me, in your own words, what really happened?”
Chief Richey swallowed hard and spoke up, “Skipper, this is all my fault. Seaman Martinez was only doing what I told him. He shouldn’t be here in front of you.”
“Chief, I admire your leadership and forthrightness for saying that, but, as you have both admitted, you both submitted a false official statement and the fact that you told Martinez to do it, does not change that. Now, please explain to me how my best chief petty officer, who I just recommended for early advancement to senior chief, is standing here before me?” Hunter queried.
“Captain, when this happened I was still a first class petty officer and I had been assigned to the Thirteenth Recruiting District working in South East LA. We were having a terrible time trying to meet our quotas everywhere and I think that South East was the worst. When I first reported there, I busted my butt to make quotas and did everything exactly by the book. The first quarter I made it, barely. The second I didn’t and the Senior Chief who ran the place called me in to his office. He had a stack of records from all the guys that I had interviewed and rejected. He chewed my butt royally and then started going through the stack, marking them up. Every mark changed something that was a mandatory reject into an acceptable recruit. I asked the Senior Chief what he was doing. He looked up and sort of smiled and told me he was showing me how to make quota. I said something about how all these kids would get kicked out in basic training. He told me that was boot camp’s problem, not his. I told him that I couldn’t do that. He let me know that if I didn’t make quota, my career was in the tank.
“Well, next quarter I didn’t make quota, again. He made life really miserable for me. Even threatening Mast for dereliction of duty. He had me in a real bind. I knew that all the other recruiters were doing it. I was the only hold out. He called me into his office again. Told me that I was on my way out as a second class, but he was going to give me one last chance.
“The next interview was Martinez. He’d dropped out of high school and started to run with a pretty tough street gang. I told him to answer that he had a high school diploma. After I had processed him, I felt so bad that I went to the Senior Chief and told him that I wanted a transfer back to the fleet. He did it, but really screwed me on the transfer eval.”
“OK, Chief. Now Martinez, what’s your story?” Hunter said, turning his gaze to the young sailor.
“Captain, I grew up in South East. Mom was trying to raise us four kids alone. She is a good lady and she worked hard to keep us out of trouble. I dropped out of High School because of the gangbanging and the drugs. I couldn’t handle that scene. I had to get out of there. The Navy seemed like a good way to go. I called the recruiting office and talked to Chief Richey. When I went in to sign the papers, I read the part about having to have a high school diploma and I told him that I didn’t have one. He said not to worry, he would fix it. Go ahead and say that I had one. So I did,” the young sailor concluded.
“And you both ended up here purely by chance?” Hunter asked.
“Yes, sir. When Martinez reported onboard, I was more surprised than anyone,” Chief Richey replied.
Hunter carefully placed the
