know is that he and Major Coller hung out together.”
I said, “Coller?”
“Lyle Coller. He’s a computer analyst assigned to Manpower. Coller’s a real pretty boy. Effeminate as hell.”
I got it now. “So you assumed Coller was gay and by extension—”
“Assume, hell. I knew he was gay. I knew they were both gay. Everyone knew it. I was the only one with the balls to say so.”
The picture was almost complete. I squeezed in the last piece, saying, “So you confronted them about being gay?”
“In a manner of speaking. I told them that I knew what was going on and ordered them to cool it, or I’d be on them like stink on shit.”
This was a violation of the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy, which prohibited senior officers from ferreting out suspected homosexuals without cause. Not that Kelly would care.
He killed off his drink and leaned back in his chair. “Anything else you want to know?”
His face was very red, eyes glassy. I went for it and asked him if he had anything to do with Talbot’s death.
“Fuck, no.”
His gaze was steady and there was no hesitation in his response.
Truthful, I reluctantly wrote down.
After getting Kelly’s office and hotel room number—he was residing at the Days Inn across the street—I told him he could go.
As I rose to follow him out, I noticed Kelly pause in the doorway, watching me.
“Something on your mind, Colonel?”
“You never answered my question about your possible bias against me. How do I know you’re not out to screw me like those reporters?”
“I’m not.”
“That’s not good enough. We’re talking about the murder of the nephew of the next president. Congressman Harris will squeeze the brass hard for answers and the brass will come down on you. I’ll bet they’re already pressuring you now. Am I right?”
I hesitated.
“That’s what I thought. So you see I’ve got a major problem. I know I’m the easy choice. What I don’t know is whether you’ll take it.”
“You’ll have to trust me, Colonel.”
“Wrong answer. From where I sit, you’re looking like some closet lefty. Now maybe that won’t influence your decision, but I’m thinking…you know…it just might.”
He spread his feet wide, looking at me accusingly.
I wasn’t under any obligation answer to him. I’m not sure why I did. In the end, I suppose I felt he had a right to know whether I could be objective.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t believe gays should serve openly in the military.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Well, hell, why didn’t you say so. Jeez, you had me going. You and me think alike, huh?”
“Apparently. Excuse me, Colonel.”
I stepped past him and went down the hall.
It was true.
My views toward gays in the military were similar to Colonel Kelly’s. Did I believe they should be ferreted out and prosecuted? Of course not.
But I did believe that gays couldn’t serve openly without undermining the military’s combat effectiveness. As Colonel Kelly intimated, the esprit de corps which binds soldiers together is a fragile thing. Anything which disrupts their unique camaraderie and creates tension would significantly reduce their ability to operate as a single entity, a crucial requirement in battle.
Did I wish this wasn’t the case? Yes.
But the reality was that homosexuals were looked upon as different, not only in the military, but also in society as a whole. Until that stigma was gone, gays would never be accepted in such inherently macho organizations like the military. Anyone who believes otherwise is fooling themselves.
That’s why I’d supported the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy as an acceptable compromise. It allowed gays to serve as long as they kept their sexuality to themselves.
Sure, there were problems with the policy, the most serious being the fairness with which it was implemented. On one end of the spectrum, you had guys like Kelly, who ignored the guidelines and conducted their own
I said, “Coller?”
“Lyle Coller. He’s a computer analyst assigned to Manpower. Coller’s a real pretty boy. Effeminate as hell.”
I got it now. “So you assumed Coller was gay and by extension—”
“Assume, hell. I knew he was gay. I knew they were both gay. Everyone knew it. I was the only one with the balls to say so.”
The picture was almost complete. I squeezed in the last piece, saying, “So you confronted them about being gay?”
“In a manner of speaking. I told them that I knew what was going on and ordered them to cool it, or I’d be on them like stink on shit.”
This was a violation of the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy, which prohibited senior officers from ferreting out suspected homosexuals without cause. Not that Kelly would care.
He killed off his drink and leaned back in his chair. “Anything else you want to know?”
His face was very red, eyes glassy. I went for it and asked him if he had anything to do with Talbot’s death.
“Fuck, no.”
His gaze was steady and there was no hesitation in his response.
Truthful, I reluctantly wrote down.
After getting Kelly’s office and hotel room number—he was residing at the Days Inn across the street—I told him he could go.
As I rose to follow him out, I noticed Kelly pause in the doorway, watching me.
“Something on your mind, Colonel?”
“You never answered my question about your possible bias against me. How do I know you’re not out to screw me like those reporters?”
“I’m not.”
“That’s not good enough. We’re talking about the murder of the nephew of the next president. Congressman Harris will squeeze the brass hard for answers and the brass will come down on you. I’ll bet they’re already pressuring you now. Am I right?”
I hesitated.
“That’s what I thought. So you see I’ve got a major problem. I know I’m the easy choice. What I don’t know is whether you’ll take it.”
“You’ll have to trust me, Colonel.”
“Wrong answer. From where I sit, you’re looking like some closet lefty. Now maybe that won’t influence your decision, but I’m thinking…you know…it just might.”
He spread his feet wide, looking at me accusingly.
I wasn’t under any obligation answer to him. I’m not sure why I did. In the end, I suppose I felt he had a right to know whether I could be objective.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t believe gays should serve openly in the military.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “Well, hell, why didn’t you say so. Jeez, you had me going. You and me think alike, huh?”
“Apparently. Excuse me, Colonel.”
I stepped past him and went down the hall.
It was true.
My views toward gays in the military were similar to Colonel Kelly’s. Did I believe they should be ferreted out and prosecuted? Of course not.
But I did believe that gays couldn’t serve openly without undermining the military’s combat effectiveness. As Colonel Kelly intimated, the esprit de corps which binds soldiers together is a fragile thing. Anything which disrupts their unique camaraderie and creates tension would significantly reduce their ability to operate as a single entity, a crucial requirement in battle.
Did I wish this wasn’t the case? Yes.
But the reality was that homosexuals were looked upon as different, not only in the military, but also in society as a whole. Until that stigma was gone, gays would never be accepted in such inherently macho organizations like the military. Anyone who believes otherwise is fooling themselves.
That’s why I’d supported the Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy as an acceptable compromise. It allowed gays to serve as long as they kept their sexuality to themselves.
Sure, there were problems with the policy, the most serious being the fairness with which it was implemented. On one end of the spectrum, you had guys like Kelly, who ignored the guidelines and conducted their own
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