"Fallen From Grace, Saved by the Devil"

On Monday I had the unique opportunity to visit not only a court room, but also testify for my "brother-in-arms" Cpl. James Whitney.  Whitney and I shared many an acre of Iraqi soil and have concluded that any Marine's that chew that much sand together are bonded as brothers indefinitely.  Unfortunately our skills and proficiency in "killing" and "maiming" are not understand by the civilian community at large.  Whitney was involved in an incident at a local bar called Hammerheads and like most Marines engaged in life outside the Marine Corps was put in an awful, if not controversial decision, to exercise his right to not only "bare arms," but utilize the proficiency of close combat to engage 3 individuals in said club.  An attempt was made to escort my brother from Hammerheads and without prior knowledge, the bouncers came up against someone who exercises not only a high skill level of close combat proficiency, but also an blood-alcohol level of 2.1 or higher.

The situation unfolds, as relayed by the prosecution, as one in which Whit exercised extreme prejudice when dealing with the three accosting members of said bar.  They approached Cpl. Whitney and asked that he remove himself from their location and no longer return.  This situation would have been deescalated had the members of the staff of the location, given Whitney an opportunity to leave on his own account.  However, the staff decided that physical force was necessary immediately to remove him from the area.

Cpl. Whitney was grabbed by the first individual and in a split-second decision, he reached for the blade he had stowed in his pocket and proceeded to exercise his skills and proficiency to execute perfect Marine Corps Martial Arts (MCMAP, Marine Corps Order 1000.54), ability by slashing two individuals multiple times.  An exuberant amount of blood began to flow and immediately the the situation had been escalated to the point of no return.  Whit had resorted to his, our, training and the effects were effective.

Vertical to horizontal knife strikes, Whitney defended himself from the threat and rendering them incapacitated, escaped the situation by resorting to the violence that had saved us countless times in Iraq.  After the incident Whitney fled and was later apprehended by the Evansville Police when discovered in the parking area of a local Shnuck's grocery store.

Fast forward to a year later and I find myself as a character witness in his trial.  Facing 4 felony counts of battery and assault, Whit was looking at well over 8 years incarceration in the Federal Penitentiary.  Cpl. Whitney asked me if I would testify as a character witness in his trial, and like brother's would I swore absolutely.  I drove down Monday morning and took the stand.  The process was overall quick, but without the witness testimony, my brother faced the noose of the Hangman's gallows.  I erupted on the stand, explaining combat engagements and what life is like in a war zone.  He was released from the shackles of prison and put on home incarceration for 4 years.  A lengthy term, but overall better then the alternative of getting ass-raped in the DOC system.

After leaving the trial I began to wonder if I had made the right choice testifying.  Yes, he is my brother and he suffers from PTSD, but I am under the same diagnosis and have never stabbed someone.  (Situations Vary).  However, after the long trek back to New Albany, Indiana, I concluded that I had in fact made the right choice.