Captain, what do you say to congressional critics
who call these battleships dinosaurs that have outlived their usefulness?
Miss Conlan, these battleships remain one of the most powerful
weapons systems in the history of warfare.
Our 16-inch guns can hit a target 25 miles away
with a projectile as heavy as a small car
and a lot more lethal.
As you shall see.
Lieutenant, pass the word to man up gun stations.
Aye, aye, sir.
General quarters. General quarters.
All hands man your battle stations for gunnery exercise.
- Load one round. - Load one round, aye.
Coming. Keep it coming.
Close.
Gun Turrets, are you loaded and cycled?
Gun Turret 3, rounds at the ready.
Gun Turret 2, rounds at the ready.
Gun Turret 1, rounds at the ready.
One round spotting. Fire in rotation, local control.
One round spotting. Aye, aye, sir.
Gun Turret 3, fire.
Turret 3, fire, aye.
Gun Turret 2, fire.
Turret 2, fire, aye.
Gun Turret 1, fire.
Gun Turret 1, fire, aye.
All emergency crews, corpsmen.
Damage control team, report to Turret 1.
Isn't it true you confessed to the FBI?
- Yes, but-- - But now you deny selling secrets.
Nuclear secrets to the North Koreans.
Yes, sir.
So were you lying then or are you lying now?
Then. Now.
But how do you--?
You know, I can't-- This is ridiculous.
L-- This is really not real. I can't do this.
Cut.
- Reset. - Okay, back to one, resetting.
Brian, how are we looking?
Of course, it isn't real.
With all due respect, commander, your reality is boring.
Ma'am, this scenario
does not address the fine points of military law.
Unauthorised absence, insubordinate conduct?
Sounds like we're back in high school. Missing a movement?
What is that? Is that a crime or an intestinal ailment?
Miss Peterson, you apparently don't understand what JAG lawyers do.
You don't do anything.
You don't fire torpedoes or storm beaches.
You talk.
Is there a problem here?
- Sir-- - I'll tell you the problem, general.
- Admiral. - Whatever.
The problem is that the Navy is 18,000 sailors short
and can't fill its quotas.
The problem is that I have been hired to shoot a recruiting commercial.
Rather than being given Navy pilots or Navy SEALs,
like a certain feature director, I was given Navy lawyers.
I see.
Miss Peterson, could you excuse us for a moment?
Why not? Lunch, half-hour.
That's lunch. One half-hour.
- Robert, what I'm trying to do here-- - Sir.
Commander, listen.
About your acting, you need to find an internal motivation.
- Different levels, colours if you will. - Sir?
Well, I was technical advisor on Field of Gold.
I picked up a few things.
Weren't you fired from Field of Gold, sir?
With me, commander.
Admiral, I didn't mean to--
Admiral, commander.
How would you two like to assist in the court-martial
of Gunner's Mate Riordan?
- Gregory Riordan, sir? - That's right.
Set the explosion aboard the USS Minnesota.
Charged with 29 counts of first-degree murder.
Riordan's been dead for ten years, sir. He died in that explosion.
It's a mock court-martial. Iron Forge Naval Academy.
Prep school, sir?
One that produces outstanding candidates for Annapolis, colonel.
Commandant Haden's a retired JAG officer, an old friend of mine,
looking for a couple volunteers to put his students through their paces.
Colonel, why don't you assist with the defence.
Commander, you assist with the prosecution.
Well, second chair to a high school student.
Well, second chair there or first chair with Miss Peterson,
your choice.
I wanna be a Navy pilot
I wanna fly an F- 14
We will prove beyond a reasonable doubt
that the defendant, Gunner's Mate 2nd Class Gregory Riordan,
that man right there, intentionally caused the explosion
in Gun Turret 1 in a twisted attempt to get back at shipmates
who hazed him and made him the butt of cruel jokes.
He placed a homemade ignition device between the propellant bags,
causing a cataclysmic explosion in the breach of the gun barrel.
Twenty-nine.
Twenty nine of his crew members died horrible deaths
at that despicable coward's hands.
Imagine the horror as a wave of scalding heat and explosive gasses
swept through the turret.
Put yourself in the position of those brave but doomed sailors.
Objection. Improper opening statement.
Sustained.
It's prejudicial to ask the members to put themselves
in anyone else's shoes.
Counsellor?
I'll rephrase, Your Honour.
When considering all the facts presented in this case,
without putting yourself in anyone else's shoes,
I'm confident that you'll return with verdicts of guilty as charged.
Thank you.
The propellant used in the Minnesota's guns
was manufactured during World War II
and the summer before the explosion,
had been stored on an open barge in the sun.
Neither the rammer man nor the cradle operator
had ever taken part in a live fire exercise.
Neither was PQS qualified,
and neither attended a pre-firing briefing that day.
These are only a few of the factors that could have caused that explosion.
Accidentally.
I was so lame.
You were fine, Luisa. A little technical, maybe.
Remember, you have to humanize your client.
Jurors acquit people they like and convict those they don't.
Oh, in that case we're screwed.
- Billy. - Look, Riordan's a scapegoat.
Isn't it obvious?
- That's one way to go. - Colonel.
Commander.
We were just going over the flaws in your case.
- What flaws, ma'am? - Try motive.
Riordan blew up the ship because guys hazed him? Right.
Riordan couldn't take it so he got even the way he could.
No, I've been punked. I'm not gonna blow up the library.
No, you're just the guy that nearly kills everyone at the rifle range.
Commander, have you ever seen someone try to fire a rifle
with the cleaning round still in the barrel?
I'm not sure if I'd want to. Certainly not at close range.
You know, I never thanked you for that, did I?
Tompkins, don't make accusations unless you've got proof to back it up.
Gentlemen, this pre-trial conference is over.
Commander, see you at lunch.
Mess hall meatloaf? Wouldn't miss it.
Riordan's guilty.
It's all in the board of inquiry report, sir.
Those investigators had it easy, Steve.
They didn't have to submit to cross-examination or a jury.
You're gonna have to prove your case.
I am Professor Heinrich Zoeller, director of Forensics
at the Naval Research Laboratory in Washington.
I supervised the investigation into the explosion
aboard the USS Minnesota.
Cadet Armstrong, I realise that you are playing a role,
but there is no need to sound like Arnold Schwarzenegger.
Yes, sir.
Professor Zoeller, did you reach any conclusions
as to the cause of the explosion?
Our tests showed that the explosion could be duplicated
only by inserting a chemical ignition device between the--
What do you call it, Steve?
- Propellant bags. - Right.
How would that work, professor?
A device flexible and small enough to fit between the bags
would ignite the propellant causing the explosion.
And we knew that it had to be made from materials obtainable on the ship,
but couldn't figure out what was used until investigators found this.
Your Honour, we'd like to submit this as Government's Exhibit 7.
That's Gregory Riordan with a souvenir he bought on leave in Portugal.
The bota bag is made from untanned goat skin.
I filled a similar bota bag with "ethyle--"
Ethyl acetate.
C4H8O2, a solvent in common use on the ship.
Right.
I placed it between two propellant bags in the lab.
It ate through the goatskin in minutes and ignited the propellant.
And did the investigators ever find Riordan's bota bag?
They searched the ship, but never found it.
And that's why your report named Gregory Riordan
as causing the explosion?
Not only that.
A week before the explosion, Riordan told a shipmate
he knew how terrorists could sink the ship
by causing an explosion in the gun turret.
Objection. Hearsay.
Technically, you are correct, Cadet Vasquez.
But the statement is contained in the official enquiry report,
which I have admitted into evidence for purposes of our exercise.
I'm out of questions.
I mean, your witness.
Gunner's Mate Riordan wasn't the only one in the gun turret
with access to the propellant bags, was he, professor?
No. The cradle operator, primer man, rammer man.
A bunch of others were around there.
Professor, is it your testimony
that the only way to cause an explosion in the gun turret
is with a flammable solvent found inside a bota bag?
It's the only one we found.
What about static electricity igniting the propellant
or a misfire where the breech is prematurely opened?
We couldn't duplicate those in the lab.
But are they possible?
I don't know.
I guess.
I want to thank you both.
I don't think that there's a military academy in the country
that can duplicate the experience that you're giving my cadets.
Actually, commander, we're enjoying it.
It's a relief to try a case where the verdict doesn't matter.
Oh, it matters to them. Come in.
At ease.
- Sorry to interrupt, sirs, ma'am, but-- - We found a real witness.
- Go on. - Terrence Connor, sir.
He was a gunner's mate on the Minnesota.
He's Scott Armstrong's uncle, sir.
He knew Riordan and he's willing to testify.
What do our JAG officers think about this?
It would add a dose of reality.
And unpredictability.
All right.
Let's have the trial the Navy never did.
Terrence Connor, gunner's mate first class.
Honourably discharged.
I served aboard the Minnesota in 1989 and 1990.
So you knew Gregory Riordan?
Sure. I was gun captain in Turret 2.
He was captain in 1. You might say we were competitors.
In what way?
Riordan's team set the speed record for loading the 16-inch gun.
Thirty-seven seconds.
And did that make him popular?
No. He was a Ioner.
And a perfectionist.
Made extra work for his crew and everyone else.
That's probably why he was hazed.
Tell us about the hazing.
Well, there's not much to tell.
He got some blanket parties thrown in his honour.
A blanket tossed over his head while a couple of the guys pounded him.
And I heard a few guys gave him a swirly.
You know, shoved his head in the toilet and flushed.
Objection. And move to strike as hearsay.
Sustained.
Mr. Connor, you can't repeat what you heard.
Were you present at any hazings?
Oh, once or twice, Your Honour.
Well, you can tell us what you saw or did.
Well, I played a couple of tricks on Riordan,
but you know, nothing dangerous.
Nothing that would make him blow up the ship.
What kind of tricks?
Oh, little stuff.
He had this wine bag he liked.
Kind of a souvenir from Spain or Portugal or somewhere.
What do I do?
What's the rule?
Never ask a question unless you know the answer.
Thank you, Mr. Connor. That's all.
What about the wine bag, Mr. Connor?
Oh, he was proud of the thing.
He used to drink out of it like it was a canteen.
- So, well, I messed with it. - Go on.
I filled it with grease when he wasn't looking
and a few of us waited around and saw him take a swig out of it.
He cursed all of us out and threw the bag overboard.
So Riordan no longer had the wine bag on the day of the explosion?
No, it was a thousand feet down and a thousand miles away.
You wanna reopen the investigation?
The Navy conducted hundreds of interviews,
performed countless number of tests, and spent millions of dollars.
And now you want to do it all over again
based on some sort of evidence from a kiddie court-martial?
Admiral, the Navy claims that Riordan used the bota bag
as a combination timer-ignition device.
If the bag was thrown overboard prior to the explosion, there's no case.
You two have seen enough investigations
to know that not all loose ends are tied up in pretty neat bows.
Hell, Riordan was a gunner's mate.
He could've used some other method to ignite propellant.
Then respectfully, sir, let the Navy prove it.
What the hell is going on down there?
You're supposed to be teaching a bunch of high school students
the basics of military justice not fomenting some damn revolution.
Now just finish the mock trial,
get your butts back here and get back to work like everybody else.
Miss Peterson, is this really necessary?
Well, we could tell everyone you're the Navy's secret weapon.
You blind your enemies with the glare from your head.
-Look at this, admiral. Navy SEALs. -The kind of people we require,
someone who can go hard or go home.
Not a lot of people know what the SEAL does.
I kind of like the idea of that.
How am I supposed to compete with that?
Miss Peterson, the Navy is not just about its warriors.
Most of the 400,000 men and women in uniform
will never see a single day of combat, God willing.
Now, maybe their expertise is engineering
or electronics or nuclear propulsion.
Whatever their speciality,
they are essential to our national security.
The Navy can't function without its cooks.
It can't function without its doctors, its mechanics, its lawyers,
trained in the art of war and the profession of peace.
Admiral, you have great presence.
But it's too hokey. It would never sell.
Okay, ready to go again.
Hugo, tilt the light a little off his head. Is there a mocha on this set?
Right face.
Forward hut.
Order hut.
Platoon, dismissed.
Aye, aye, sir.
Tompkins, are you sure you wanna be a Marine?
No, sir. My father wants me to be a Marine.
I wanna be a lawyer.
Commander, what did the admiral say?
The admiral has told us to put a lid on it.
Well, that's not fair.
It is disappointing, sir.
An order's an order. No use crying about it.
Not an order to us. We don't work for that admiral.
- We're running a court-martial here. - Always looking for a loophole.
It is true, you could keep doing what you're doing.
Going over documents, looking for inconsistencies,
new leads, possible witnesses.
At the very least, it would be a good learning experience.
Yeah, especially if we get court-martialled.
Well, I don't understand.
Why would we want to find witnesses who will trash our case?
We should all have the same goal. To find the truth.
We have the names, and Social Security of all 1,500 crewmembers.
I can use People Search on the Internet.
There have to be some within driving distance.
Ma'am, sir.
Luisa, so am I gonna see you tonight?
I don't know, Steve.
Billy and I have to prepare for tomorrow.
You've been spending a lot of time with that loser.
He's my client.
- Hey, Luisa, wait up. - Teenagers.
Yeah.
Do you remember what it was like, Harm?
Trying to figure out who you are, and where you fit in?
Or did that just come easy to you?
You know, sometimes I think I missed out on being a kid.
Having a father that was MIA,
I was always trying to be the man of the house, you know.
But I guess I should have been at a disco or...
Yeah, I know what you mean. I've seen you dance.
He's here.
Your Honour, the defence has found a crewmember
who was outside the gun turret on the day of the explosion.
We'd like permission to call him out of order.
This is getting complicated, Cadet Vasquez.
Are there any objections?
- Yes, sir. - No.
Call your witness.
Shepard Carman. They called me Shep.
I was a master chief on the Minnesota until they mothballed her.
So you were aboard the ship the morning of March 20th, 1990?
That's right, miss.
I was down on Deck 5 checking out some refrigeration equipment.
You get much lower than that and you'll be hanging onto the keel.
What did you observe?
The powder flat hatch flew open and this sailor, I don't know his name,
came running out of Turret 1 with a bloody nose.
Well, 15 minutes later that turret blew up.
I figure that was the luckiest nosebleed in this man's Navy.
Did you tell the Navy's investigators what you saw that morning?
You bet.
About that and that old gal's steam leaks
and corroded hatches and electrical short circuits
and the bad brakes on the hoist cars.
So you're a safety expert, Mr. Carman?
Self-taught.
Navy considered me a mess management specialist.
I ran the galley.
- Nothing further. - That's it?
Don't you wanna see the documentation?
Now, I wrote the captain,
and the fleet commander, and the SECNAV.
I told them what caused that explosion.
It was a HERF gun. High energy radio frequency.
You see, the Russkies had a sub in the area.
Well, they surfaced and bleeped us with those electro gizmos.
- Lieutenant Roberts. - Bud, it's Harm.
Think you could locate the medical records of the Minnesota?
Sure. They'd be archived at the Navy Yard in D.C.
The index system there isn't the best,
but I have a friend there who owes me a favour.
See if anybody reported to Sickbay
with a bloody nose on March 20th, 1990.
I'll do my best.
Sir, isn't that the day...?
That's right, Bud.
That's the day the Sickbay became the morgue.
Head straight. There you go.
I can't believe Billy even brought in that tweaker Carman.
If this was a real court-martial, would you check out his story?
You always follow leads.
Sometimes witnesses who can hardly find the courthouse
have important information.
All right, flex your knees.
Here, watch me.
Okay?
I can't do that.
Okay. All right, try this.
Double up on the jab, stick and move. Okay?
Try that.
Keep your hands up. Good.
You're so together, colonel. I wish I could be like you.
I'm trying to beat Steve in court and he's hitting on me.
I don't know how you do it.
You know, compete with men and retain your femininity.
Oh, it's easy. Just have to do everything better than they do.
But don't rub their noses in it.
You know, be smart. Think like a woman, but act like a man.
- Right. Easy. - It's better not to get involved
with someone you see all the time no matter how you feel about them.
Luisa, you're not gonna believe it.
- What? - I was right.
About what? Martians did blow up the gun turret?
Commander Rabb just heard from his friend at JAG.
- And? - Fifteen minutes before the explosion
Petty Officer Michael Saunders,
a gunner's mate, reported to Sickbay with a broken nose.
So what?
Maybe he walked into a bulkhead in the gun turret.
Saunders told the corpsman he tripped near his compartment,
which is nowhere near the turret
where Master Chief Carman saw him running out bleeding.
- So Saunders lied. - Right.
When we figure out why, we'll know exactly what happened that day.
Oh, Billy.
Come on. Come on.
"Michael Saunders, United States Navy, retired.
Born 8 August 1911."
I don't think so.
Using the Internet to try and find someone, sir?
Trying. Not succeeding.
When I was a deputy sheriff, I rounded up a few missing persons,
including some who didn't wanna be found.
Gunner's Mate Michael Saunders.
Discharged from the Navy ten years ago.
Bureau of Navy Personnel doesn't have an address
and I've already gone through all the people search sites on the Net.
That's just a glorified phone book, sir.
Why don't you try finding them the old-fashioned way.
Driver's licence, court files, auto registration, real-estate records?
I once found a fugitive by looking at hunting licences.
The guy never missed a deer season.
Interesting.
I'd be happy to help you, sir.
There were a number of safety problems
aboard the Minnesota.
The guns were over 40 years old. So was the propellant.
The hoist cars sometimes crashed. Training was haphazard.
Petty Officer Riordan, were you a victim of hazing aboard ship?
There were some guys who seemed to enjoy tormenting me.
But I didn't try to get even. I would never hurt innocent people.
Do you know what caused the explosion in the gun turret?
I only know I didn't do it.
Your witness.
Did you have a lot of friends on the Minnesota,
Petty Officer Riordan?
A few. I'm not all that sociable.
And did you have any enemies?
Well, there were some guys who didn't seem to like me.
They're all dead now, aren't they?
Objection. Argumentative.
Withdrawn.
Petty Officer Riordan, back in Arkansas
did you explode homemade bombs?
I blew up tree stumps on my family's farm.
So you know all about explosives?
I am a gunner's mate, counsellor.
Why did you blow up those tree stumps?
Well, they're hell on a plough.
The shipmates made your life hell on earth, didn't they?
What?
Didn't you write letters home saying that the hazing was so bad
that your life was quote, "hell on earth," unquote.
I refer to Exhibits 38, A through F, Your Honour.
Well, I was upset at the time.
And when you were upset with those shipmates,
you blew them up just like you did those tree stumps.
No, I didn't have to seek revenge.
I always knew I was better than anyone who tried to hurt me.
I'm amazed you found her.
Missing men usually have ex-wives.
This is the same address that was listed on the divorce docket.
What's Saunder's address?
We'll ask her.
And lieutenant, we play Mutt and Jeff.
Do you wanna be good cop or bad cop?
Well, let's see.
Good cop. Absolutely.
Mom.
Go finish your breakfast, honey.
- Kimberly Saunders? - What's this about?
Sorry to bother you, ma'am. We're looking for Michael Saunders.
Why? Does he owe you money or did he steal an aircraft carrier?
We're not at liberty to say, ma'am.
Neither am I.
We can get a warrant, lady.
Why don't you do that, sergeant?
Actually, ma'am, the Navy owes him three months' pay
and we just wanna make sure that he's gonna get it.
And you need a warrant for that?
He's new.
There's nothing to worry about, ma'am. Mr. Saunders isn't in any trouble.
That would be a first.
Try the Little Creek Tavern in Hampton.
He'll be on one side of the bar or the other.
Thank you.
Just what does a yeoman do, Petty Officer Tiner?
Well, the yeomen are the glue who hold the Navy together.
In my case I handle file management, type the admiral's correspondence,
and arrange his appointments.
You're a clerk?
Yes, but with managerial duties.
The gunny and I reorganized the entire filing system
from an alphabetical to a numerical base.
Cut.
And I took this gig over a job on Animal Planet.
- Hey, glare right here. - Stepping in, okay.
Miss Peterson.
Let me guess. You sort the paper clips.
I'm an attorney. Lieutenant Loren Singer.
I was wondering if Admiral Chegwidden
told you about the court-martial I just prosecuted.
No, why would he?
For your recruiting commercial, of course.
I convicted two Marines of duelling.
Duelling? As in flintlock pistols at 20 paces?
More like 9 mm Barettas outside a Newport bar.
So, what was the body count?
The Marines missed each other, but mortally wounded a traffic light.
They'll each do six months in the brig.
But the case shows how versatile JAG lawyers have to be.
The Marines had a friend videotape the whole thing.
Have you tried Jerry Springer?
Slow night.
Can't tell one from another.
What can I get you?
Whatever's on tap.
You ever in the Navy?
Oh, I got one of those faces. A lot of folks think they know me.
You served on the Minnesota, didn't you?
You got me mixed up.
Gunner's Mate Saunders.
And you'd be a cop, right?
You got NCIS written all over you.
I'm with JAG, but it's not official.
Well, how'd you find me? My ex?
My boy doing okay?
He's good.
I haven't been out there in a while.
This is about the Minnesota, Mr. Saunders.
Oh, man. That was a long time ago.
March 20th, 1990. You broke your nose.
Yeah.
You told a corpsman in Sickbay that you broke it
near your berthing compartment.
The ship blew up that day. Twenty-nine men died.
Why are you worried about where I broke my nose?
Where did you break it?
Near my berthing compartment.
We have a witness says you broke it in Gun Turret 1.
Why would you lie?
- Because I broke it in a fight. - Who'd you fight?
Greg Riordan.
The guy who blew up the ship.
The night before, that was the worst.
We threw him a little blanket party, pounded him pretty good.
Then we carried him up on the main deck.
He was crying like a baby.
We picked him up by the ankles, had him over the rails,
let him dangle there right over the screws.
He was sobbing and swearing, yelling.
He said he'd get even.
Swore he'd kill us all.
- Enter. - Excuse me, admiral.
I know you're busy with the Law of the Sea
or the Treaty of Versailles or whatever.
- What is it, Miss Peterson? - I have won two Clios.
I directed an independent film that was shown at Sundance
and yet still, I can't find a way to make this work, so I quit.
Miss Peterson, have you explored every option?
I mean, Lieutenant Roberts here, he's third generation Navy.
His grandfather served on a battleship.
His father was a master chief.
I'm not doing the Pillsbury Doughboy.
God, I am so sorry. I'm not usually like this.
Look, your Commander Rabb almost works
if only he'd done something else besides practise law.
Well, actually. . .
- Female on deck. - Luisa, what are you doing in here?
Thinking like a woman, acting like a man.
Did Steve do this to you?
Can we talk about this someplace else?
- You should report him. - No.
- You can't let him get away with this. - He won't.
I'll beat him in the courtroom.
Not if that means winning an acquittal for Riordan.
At ease.
What happened, commander? Did you find Michael Saunders?
- We did. - Billy, what happened to your eye?
I saluted too hard, ma'am. What did he say, sir?
He buried Riordan.
Maybe he's lying, sir.
Could he have told a different story to anyone else, sir?
His ex-wife Kimberly in Norfolk.
Norfolk?
Wait a minute. Wait a minute, sir.
Okay, here it is.
Exhibit 477-B, a postcard sent to Greg Riordan in March 1990
a few days before the explosion.
Investigators found it in his locker, postmarked Norfolk.
"See you in port. Can't wait. I love you, Kimberly."
Kimberly loves Riordan.
Kimberly marries Saunders after Riordan dies.
Saunders told me that he and Riordan were fighting over hazing.
Hi, is your mom home?
Ma'am?
Reinforcements?
I'm Commander Rabb, ma'am. This is Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie.
We're with the JAG Corps. We'd like to ask you a few questions if we could.
Look, I have to help my son finish his homework.
Well, this won't take long.
We have some questions about Greg Riordan.
- About me? - No, son. Not about you.
But I'm Greg Riordan.
Why don't you two come in for a cup of coffee.
I was young. I thought it was fun having two sailors fight over me.
Michael Saunders and Greg Riordan?
One boyfriend too many.
When I finally figured that out, I chose Greg.
An odd time to kill yourself when you finally get the woman you want.
That's what I always thought.
But it's tough to argue with the Navy.
So far, I've shielded Greg Junior from what they say about his father.
Saunders led me to believe that he was the child's father.
He wasn't a bad substitute when he was sober.
Michael is the only father that Greg knows,
and they love each other.
He stops by once in a while and takes him fishing or camping.
You married Saunders after the explosion?
I was four months pregnant when Greg came home in a body bag.
Greg Junior needed a father and I needed somebody too.
Did Saunders ever talk about what happened
that morning in the gun turret?
He wasn't there.
Yes, he was.
Oh, my God.
You, I'm done with.
- Hi, Dad. - Hey.
Can I have a root beer?
Greg, over here.
You know, the boy shouldn't be in here.
He shouldn't be seeing me like this.
I'm sure you look great to him.
His other father's a mass murderer.
But he doesn't know about that.
He will. Someone at school will tell him.
They might even beat him up.
You'd know about that, wouldn't you?
What do you want from me?
Tell the boy the truth.
Don't let this lie ruin his life too.
It's too late.
It's not too late for him.
It's an honour to have a distinguished visitor with us today.
Rear Admiral A.J. Chegwidden,
the Judge Advocate General of the United States Navy.
Are you ready to proceed, Cadet Vasquez?
Your Honour, although both sides have rested,
we move to reopen the evidence to present a final defence witness.
This has gone on long enough, motion denied.
Commandant Haden, may I be heard?
Of course, admiral.
I came here today
because I understood that you might hear from a witness
who never spoke to the Board of Inquiry.
The Navy did the best job it could,
but if there's a chance that we committed a miscarriage of justice,
no matter how innocently, we want it corrected.
- Call your witness. - Thank you, Your Honour.
The defence calls Michael Saunders.
Raise your right hand.
Do you swear that the evidence you are about to give is the truth,
the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?
- I do. - Be seated.
State your name and rank for the record, sir.
Michael Saunders.
I was Gunner's Mate Second Class aboard the USS Minnesota.
Were you aboard ship on March 20th, 1990?
Yes, ma'am.
Did you know Gunner's Mate Gregory Riordan?
Yes, ma'am.
We hazed him. I hazed him.
But that had nothing to do with what happened that day.
It was about a woman.
I wanted her. He had her.
What happened in the gun turret, Mr. Saunders?
Riordan was gun captain.
Doing a better job than anybody else, as usual.
I don't know why I went in there.
I didn't belong there. I didn't really belong anywhere.
- Load one round. - Load one round, aye.
They had already loaded the projectile
and the propellant bags were coming off the spanning tray
and Riordan put the lead foils between the first and second bag
just the way he was supposed to.
And then he saw me.
- What are you doing here? - I'm just checking up on you.
I hear they threw you a little blanket party last night.
Get out of my turret.
Relax. I'm just here to help you.
You want to help me? Get out.
And I told him that Kim had been seeing me behind his back and...
What did you say?
Don't fool yourself, son.
She's only marrying you because I wouldn't marry her.
It was all a lie. I just wanted to hurt him.
Anyway, it was the cradle operator's first live fire exercise
and he was nervous enough and I'm sure I didn't help it by busting in.
Now, I'm not so sure,
but I thought I saw him load six bags of propellant instead of five.
Now, Riordan would have caught the mistake,
but he never saw it because of me.
Now, I could have warned him.
I could have stopped it.
But in that split second,
I didn't want to.
I never loaded the gun. So it wasn't my fault, right?
Mr. Saunders,
what is the effect of six propellant bags instead of five?
Too much propellant over pressurizes the gun.
I am sorry.
Petty Officer Riordan,
on all specifications against you this court-martial finds you
not guilty.
This court-martial is adjourned.
- Thank you for all your help. - Good work.
- Thank you. - Nice work, Steven.
- Keep it up. - Thank you.
Billy.
Congratulations, Cadet Vasquez.
- Well done, Cadet Tompkins. - Thanks.
Billy, I was wrong about you.
I know.
What's gonna happen to him?
Well, dereliction of duty and manslaughter
would both be barred by the Statute of Limitations.
So the only punishment he'll get
is what he has to live with everyday for the rest of his life.
- Thanks, A.J. - It sure is good to see you.
You bet.
Colonel, commander, correct me if I'm wrong,
but didn't I advise you to drop the investigation?
- It wasn't our investigation to drop. - It wasn't?
No, sir. We were simply sitting second chair.
Commander, I almost forgot.
Can you be at the Washington Monument at 1700?
The Washington Monument at 1700, sir?
- Why? - I think she called it magic hour.
Miss Peterson, she says the light is just perfect then.
Colonel.