Don’t Speak — The Hague, the Netherlands |December 1996
“Purposely undermining an officer? ”
“Sergeant Van Gaans reporting as ordered, Sirs,” I say, coming to attention and saluting the stern-looking generals in front of me. They are seated behind a heavy mahogany desk in the large, mostly empty, room.
“At ease sergeant,” the general in the middle says. He’s wearing the insignia of the army’s Legal Service and doesn’t quite look like he wants to be here.
I’m at the Queen Beatrix barracks on the outskirts of The Hague, reporting for a preliminary court-martial hearing, conducted by a Military Discipline Advisory Committee. The committee consists of five retired generals from different branches of the Royal Netherlands Army, who have in common their law degrees from reputable universities.
“Sergeant Van Gaans, this committee has convened here today to investigate the validity of your company commander’s accusation that you have ‘purposely undermined the authority of a superior officer under operational circumstances’. Is this clear to you?” the general of the Legal Service asks.
“Yes sir,” I say, as if I’m in an American movie, my voice echoing through the room. I notice a tired-looking general of the Horse Artillery Corps is suppressing a smile.
“Is it also clear to you that, if we decide in favour of the accusation, you shall be facing a court-martial at the military court in Arnhem?” the ‘judge’ continues.
“Yes sir, very clear sir!”
“Very well sergeant, be seated, we shall commence. Please take note that you have the right to remain silent throughout this hearing if you wish to do so.”
I have no intention of keeping quiet. This whole court-martial investigation is ridiculous, I’ve done nothing wrong. It’s true that I overruled an unspoken order of my platoon commander, but only because he wouldn’t listen to reason, and I didn’t do it in front of any soldiers, so how could I possibly have undermined his authority.
The general to the far right of the table, with the exploding grenade insignia of the Grenadier Guards on his lapels, stands up and reads out the official indictment in a solemn voice. I can’t say I agree with anything he says, and I notice that every time he quotes some awful thing I would have said, it is followed by the disclaimer, “or words to that effect.” That’s nasty; words are being put into my mouth and I can’t even deny them because the quotes aren’t necessarily an exact representation of what I might have said. There are also no witnesses because my unit, the 17th Armoured Infantry Battalion (17 Painfbat), is still on mission in Bosnia. How convenient!
When the Grenadier Guards general is finished with his recitation, my ‘lawyer’ pats me on the shoulder and whispers that it will be in my best interest to remain quiet.
What!? Who is this woman? She was introduced to me earlier as my legal counsel, assigned to me by the union, and this is her advice, stay quiet. I don’t think so.
“Does Sergeant Van Gaans have anything…” the ‘judge’ begins.
“Yes sir,” I interrupt him quicker than I intended, “I would like to draw the committee’s attention to this report.”
The report I’m holding up to the committee is the final result of two humiliating months. For eight weeks, every Tuesday and Thursday, I had to visit a psychiatrist, appointed by the army because my court-martial indictment vaguely suggested my ‘misbehaviour’ in Bosnia might have been the result of post-traumatic stress disorder. What the cause of this uncontrollable stress might have been was, of course, conveniently not mentioned. As the generals flip through the report, my mind goes back to those psychiatric sessions.
The psychiatrist had meant well, he really wanted to help me. The problem with my ‘problem’ was that it didn’t exist. After weeks of intense probing for what might have caused my traumas, he finally accepted that I did not have post-traumatic stress disorder. His final, albeit unofficial, conclusion was crystal clear: “I don’t understand why you were sent to me. I can’t find anything that contradicts what you’ve been telling me, nor can I find evidence to prove you wrong in any other way. In fact, it seems clear to me that a clash of character between you and your superiors has been the underlying reason for your repatriation.” In the final report this conclusion was written down more abstractly, but the idea was the same.
“May I tell you what I think happened in Bosnia?” I ask.
“Please do,” a general of the Fusilier Guards, my regiment, responds.
I start to explain how, during a live-firing exercise in Bosnia, I had indeed questioned an order from my platoon commander. “But keep in mind,” I say, “I questioned the order, I didn’t refuse to obey. The reason I questioned his order was that, as Fire-Director, I simply had more information than he did; I had more radios in my vehicle.
“On the battalion radio channel, I’d overheard that a convoy of Serbian demonstrators was coming towards us and we should get ready to move. The platoon commander arrogantly ignored my message and so, after trying to reason with him for some time, I got onto the platoon radio channel and ordered the mortar sections to prepare to move. This is how I allegedly undermined the authority of a superior officer under operational circumstances.”
I continue my plea for another ten minutes or so and also try to give some more background to the misleading ‘quotes’ in the official indictment.
“I think we’ve heard enough,” the ‘judge’ interrupts me. “Based on the evidence presented, it is quite clear to me that the repatriation of the sergeant has been the result of a personal feud between him and his platoon commander and not a matter of insubordination. Is any of my distinguished colleagues of a different opinion?”
The silence that follows is deafening, it seems like I’ve won my case, but I’m not sure. Suddenly, the ‘judge’ and the other generals huddle together and whisper… maybe I’ve lost.
“Sergeant Van Gaans, please stand,” the general of the Grenadier Guards says abruptly. I stand up, to attention.
“Sergeant Van Gaans, it is the verdict of this committee that the accusations against you are unfounded, and your repatriation from the IFOR-2 mission in Bosnia-Herzegovina was unjustified. We will advise the Battalion Commander of 17 Painfbat to dismiss the charges against you, and, in due time, to redeploy you to Bosnia to complete your mission with honour. Is this clear to you?”
“Yes sir, crystal clear. Thank you very much.”
P.S. Rehabilitation: The SFOR-1 medal ceremony in Busovača, Bosnia-Herzegovina, August 1997
No Doubt. Don’t Speak on Tragic Kingdom [CD]. Santa Monica, United States: Interscope. (1996)
This autobiographical sketch comes from my bundle In the Moment: A Disjointed Audiobiography which is available at Amazon.com. (USD 9.50 for a paperback or USD 4.50 for the Kindle version)
