Miranda Rights Booby Trap

Life was good.  I had just gone Regular Army (career) and the Army had kept its promise and sent me to Presidio of Monterey to study German.  Each morning I would get up, look out the window of my Fort Ord quarters and see Monterey Bay (or fog).  When I finished the language school, I would be on my way to Germany for a three-year tour.  I was being assigned to the 4th Armored Division in Goeppingen, 30 miles east of Stuttgart.

Then I received my welcoming letter from the 4th AD Staff Judge Advocate, Lieutenant Colonel Robert Cates.  He hated me. Fortunately, at the time, he did not recognize my name.  He would as soon as he saw me.  He had been one of our instructors in the JAG Basic Course in Charlottesville, Virginia.  Colonel Cates had many idiosyncrasies.  And, at our class’s final banquet and party, I was part of the entertainment and had been introduced as Colonel Kiss-Me Cates.  I mimicked all of his little quirks.  Afterwards, he sought me out and told me that he enjoyed my performance.  I thanked him, but neither of us was very convincing.  I had never planned on seeing him again.  Duh.

So how did I last 28 years and end up as the Commandant at the school where Colonel Kiss-Me Cates had taught.  I was just lucky. When I arrived at the 4th Armored Division, Colonel Cates had departed three weeks before.  It reminds me of what Brigadier General Ron Holdaway told one of my JAG Graduate Classes many years later.  “To make general officer, you have to be good and lucky.  But, if you can only be one, be lucky.”

I arrived in Germany in 1966 about the same time the Miranda decision was being handed down by the Supreme Court. As most of you know, it requires that before law enforcement officials can take a statement from a suspect, they must advise him or her of his or her’s right to remain silent and right to an attorney. Practically the first case I was handed was the retrial of a murder case originally tried in 1964.

Back in 1964, Private Mayberry left his barracks in Erlangen and caught a train to Nuernberg.  He partied at his favorite gasthaus and then went with a prostitute back to her trailer.  After a couple of hours, he announced he had to get back to his unit or he would be AWOL.  They argued and she put a cigarette out on the Private’s privates.  He then strangled her.  He then took her wallet (she no longer needed it) and caught a cab back to the train station.  The cab driver observed Mayberry going through the wallet, emptying it of money and then throwing it out the window.  A bus driver saw the wallet fly out of the window, stopped, picked it up and turned it into the police.  The cab driver identified Mayberry as the one who threw the wallet.

It didn’t take long for the military police to latch onto Mayberry and he confessed that he killed the prostitute (I’m sorry I can’t remember her name).  He pleaded guilty to second degree murder and the stipulation of facts laid out that she had burned him with the cigarette.  The Army Court of Military Review, on appeal, determined that Mayberry, being burned by the cigarette could have put him in such a “heat of passion” that the crime committed was only manslaughter.  So they did not approve the conviction, but sent the case back to Germany to be retried.  I think the appellate court could have reduced the case to manslaughter and reduced the sentence and we all would have been fat, dumb and happy.

So, I’m designated the Trial Counsel (prosecutor).  We still have Mayberry’s confession, but we don’t know if it is admissible.  My position was that it is hard to give a Miranda warning before the Supreme Court decides the Miranda case.  A few years later, the Supreme Court decided that such confessions, as Mayberry’s, were valid and admissible.  But I had to try the case in the nether-nether land.  My trial judge decided that Miranda was the law of the land at the time of this retrial and the confession could not be used.

So what did I have (if you think I am going to be the hero and somehow get a conviction, forget it.  Sometimes you play the hand you are dealt)?  I had fiber testimony, testimony from the gasthaus that they left together and the wallet.  The fiber evidence was extensive.  It was taken from Helga (I had to give her a name), Helga’s trailer (blanket, etc), and Mayberry’s clothes.  The University of Erlangen had used their forensic lab and tied Mayberry and Helga in a knot.  One example should suffice – fibers from his socks were found inside her bra.  Now, just use your imagination.  I had lots and lots of fibers and lots of connections.

The cab driver still remembered Mayberry and him throwing Helga’s wallet out the window.  Even though the wallet had been kept in an evidence vault during the intervening years, the bus driver insisted it wasn’t the same wallet!?

The defense put on only one witness who lived in Helga’s trailer park and testified that someone had been sneaking around the trailer park that night.  Probably the one-armed man from the “Fugitive.”  The bottom line was I could put them together in the trailer, but without the confession, I had no evidence that he killed her.  The military court acquitted Mayberry.

Then to add insult to injury, I received a whopping bill for the forensic support from the University of Erlangen.  I talked to my Finance chief and he told me that I should have gotten authority before I authorized the contract.  “Authorized the contract?” Whatever happened to German-American Friendship?  I thought we were walking down this road together.  It really shook me up.  As a young Captain, I couldn’t afford to pay the bill.  For about three months in a row, I received the bill.  My friend in Finance had his hands full because his boss was a drunk and he was trying to hide him out.  The good news was that higher headquarters found out about the boss and shipped him home.  They brought a young Lieutenant Colonel over from VII Corps to run the Finance Office. When I asked him about my Erlangen problem, he said, “Oh, we’ve got funds up at VII Corps to dispose of such matters.”  Free at last, free at last (be lucky)!

I later found out that it was none other than Kiss-Me Cates that had insisted that Mayberry plead guilty to murder rather than manslaughter.  So, maybe Cates got me after all.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

Christmas the Year After – – 2013

As many of you know, I post a Christmas poem each year.  This is the year after Carole’s surgery and it has been a good year.  We take set backs in stride and have for many, many years.  Enjoy.



 

Christmas the Year
After – – 2013

 

It’s time
to report, for the umpty-umpth time,

For a
status report, done with a rhyme.

Report on
the family and the National scene,

The
Country’s screwed up, but we’re peachy keen.

This
year’s about recovery, from last year’s bout,

Carole’s
surgery had us down, but definitely not out.

 

We
started the year normal with our Disney World trip,

And golf
lessons for Jack, maybe this time they’ll stick.

We’ve
been there so often, we love it just the same,

But it
gets quite embarrassing, when the characters know our name.

(“Hi Carole, Hi Jack” — “Hi
Mickey”)

 

Jack’s
now the President of the Fort Belvoir Golf Fuds,

You can
be the President, while not one of the studs.

His
scores are a tad better, but the ball has no zing,

But
everyone does comment, he has a lovely swing.

 

We saw
this cruise, Osaka to Alaska to Vancouver,

It
excited our fancy, such a wide sweeping maneuver.

A great
time was had, but April was chilly,

Visiting
Adak and Dutch Harbor was downright silly.

The bad
news was Carole came down sick,

She was
hospitalized in May, ain’t that a kick.

(We missed RAJA)

 

July
brought the girls, Becky early, Missy late,

They’re
so sweet to come, with so much on their plate.

We took
Becky to Lancaster, for a short break,

Shared
Kitchen Kettle Village and some funnel cake.

Took
Missy to the Eastern Shore, the day was so drab,

But we
stopped at Kent Narrows and ate lots of steamed crab.

 

Good
things happened, things that were fun,

Like
Tyler graduating, Summa Cum Done.

Brandon
got married on a cold Flagstaff day,

Lovely,
with frostbite, but hey, what the hey.

It was
beautiful, romantic, it made us feel young,

But to be
starting over, I rather bite my tongue.

 

Paul and
Sandy have moved, it’s a great fix,

Much
closer to us and away from the sticks.

Still a
deputy warden at a very different facility,

With all
women “guests,” there’s little to no tranquility.

Jack’s
grown up fast, he seems very bright.

An
athlete, a diplomat, he’s such a delight.

He’s
scary thoughtful, he makes us nervous,

He called
Grandpa on Veteran’s Day and thanked him for his service!

 

A cruise
in September and, surprise, a golf theme,

Old
friends joined us, it was like a dream.

Boston to
Montreal, to see the Autumn splendor,

But how
many colors can you see when facing a bartender.

 

So the
year’s wrapping up, but there’s still lots of pressure,

The
Christmas Party looms, would you like a refresher?

Our last
attempt was 2009, that was the year of the blizzard,

The snow
was as high as an elephant’s eye,         
                                     

We’d have
had to be a wizard.

 

It’s a
great time of year, Missy may come to the party,

Then
Paul’s family for the holidays, good times will be hardy.

To all of
our friends, we wish you love and good cheer,

And a Merry
Christmas to all, and a Happy New Year.

 

                                Carole and Jack


Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com

class=”MsoNormal” style=”text-align: left;”>Copyright 2013


The Petting Zoo All Over Again!

I really like to watch commercials.  I know that sounds stupid, but I do.  People get paid good money for putting those 30 seconds together.  Once I have seen most of them, I would rather not see them again.  And if they come on again, which they always do, I feel no obligation to watch.

There doesn’t seem to be any correlation between whether I like the product and whether I like the commercial.  I don’t like beer, but I love Budweiser commercials.  How can you not love horses and dogs?  But the Coors commercial where these guys are climbing all over this frozen mountain to deliver two bottles of Coors is a little flaky.  It’s a big bar full of music and people and they deliver two bottles of Coors.  I wonder if everybody else is drinking Bud. 

The Super Bowl makes for an exciting, but difficult day.  I don’t want to miss any of the game, nor the commercials.  There is no time for a comfort break.  I guess the problem will solve itself when I can watch it all on my wrist.

One commercial that really gets me going is a group of young parents sitting around and someone inquires whether anyone has done anything regarding setting up a college fund for their children.  Only one couple has and it’s the Gerber Life College Plan. And, the wife says, “It’s an insurance policy too.”  And, I’m thinking, you mean if my child kicks the bucket, I have a pay day? I don’t know.  That seems a little cold.

My favorite commercial at the moment has a mother at the mall with her two small children.  She stops to tell them that they only have a short time to find Daddy the perfect gift and they really need to focus.  She tells her son (age 8 or 9) that he is her rock and asks if she can count on him.  He gives her the thumbs up.  Then, she turns to her daughter (age 6 or 7) and says, “Sally, look at me. I need you to step it up.  We don’t need the petting zoo all over again.”  The little girl looks at her mom and says, “I can’t make any promises.”  I just love that  We can only guess what happened at the petting zoo.  The bad news is that while I love the little episode, I don’t remember which smart phone the commercial is trying to sell.  And I think that is probably important.

I probably don’t watch shows that advertise Mr. Clean and Tide, so I guess I have to exclude those commercials from my evaluation. I guess I watch TV shows where they are trying to sell beer and cars and Snickers.  I like the Snickers’ commercials where famous actors like Robin Williams and Roseanne Barr are out of control. Then after they eat a Snickers Bar they turn into normal people.  I loved it when Roseanne Barr got whacked by a big log in the lumber yard. Maybe it’s because I can’t stand Roseanne Barr. Robin Williams is playing a high school football coach and during a time out, he encourages his team to “win the game for Mother Russia.” After eating a Snickers Bar, the real coach returns and sends his charges on to the field for victory (but not for Mother Russia).

I said there was no correlation between whether I liked the product and whether I liked the commercial.  But, I guess there is one exception.  If you look under the category called “The Fox,” you will find a blog entitled, “Why I Will Never Buy an Audi.”  As you will see in the blog, I have nothing against the vehicle, just the executives that run the company.  So every time I see an Audi commercial, I can’t observe it impartially.  There’s the commercial where the woman with an Audi is getting ready to put diesel in her car and everyone is trying to stop her.  One young man yells, “Hey lady, that’s diesel.”  She smugly looks at him and says, “I know.” Then she and her male companion (probably an Audi executive) nod at each other, silently saying, “We are surrounded by idiots.” Then, there’s the scene where Santa is ringing the Salvation Army bell outside a department store.  An Audi drives by and everyone who sees it, drops their car fob in the collection kettle.  Most of the donated fobs have a Mercedes symbol on them.  I think the advertising company for Audi is as arrogant as the Audi executives. But, of course, I’m not impartial (and never will be).  If someone asked me what I took away from the commercial, I would say that people who drive Mercedes are very generous people.

While getting gas at the Fort Belvoir Exchange, a woman drove her Audi up to the diesel pump.  I really tried not to say anything, but my impulses got the best of me.  Finally I said, “Hey lady, that’s diesel.”  She immediately understood, gave me a pleasant smile and said, “I know.”

Then there’s the erectile dysfunction commercials.  They say it may just be a blood flow problem.  I agree.  I don’t think the blood is getting to the brain.  I love what the golf industry has done with this issue.  Polara golf (they make golf balls) says that when the ball doesn’t go where you intended it to go, you may have projectile dysfunction.  Their ball can correct projectile dysfunction. There was also a golf company who claimed their driver would cure projectile dysfunction.  I thought the company was Cobra or Cleveland, but I can’t find anything on it now.  And believe me, if you go on the internet and can’t find anything, it causes grave doubt as to whether it ever existed.

Now, we tape a lot of our shows on TV and we fast forward through the commercials.  I’m afraid that commercials may go the same way as buggy whips, green eye shades and Blockbuster Video.

Written by PJ Rice at www.ricequips.com