Sergeants on Trial (Contd.)

A month ago, when two U.S. sergeants stationed in Turkey charged that they had been tortured by Turkish cops who accused them of black marketing in currency, the ensuing uproar set official swivel chairs spinning in three capitals. The sergeants' charges, and their detention along with two other U.S. noncoms also charged with black marketing, brought U.S. Ambassador Fletcher Warren hustling back to the U.S. from Turkey for hush-hush consultations with the State Department (TIME. Aug. 24). From Paris, NATO's General Lauris Norstad dispatched a team of crack investigators headed by Major General Joseph Carroll, sometime FBI man. to find out just what was going on at NATO's southeastern headquarters in Izmir, the station at which the four sergeants were serving. Under NATO prodding. Izmir's Public Prosecutor even launched his own investigation into the brutality charges.

Last week, at the trial of the sergeants in Izmir's humid, jampacked courthouse, there was little public evidence that all this display of official activity had yet brought anyone much closer to the truth.

The Ring. First prosecution witness was burly, mustached Izmir Police Inspector Yilmaz Capin. Specifically asked by Judge Celal Varol about any rough stuff during the arrests, Capin denied beating anyone. At this point, a Turkish civilian, Sureya Eslek, on trial with the Americans, leaped to his feet and called Capin a liar, crying, "I was beaten!" After testifying that he "watched" one illegal exchange of currency through a window, which reporters subsequently discovered to be opaque, Policeman Capin grumpily sat down, spent the rest of the day glaring at Defendant Eslek and opening and closing his fist in a way that inexorably drew the prisoners' attention to his giant signet ring.

Defense Attorney Sahap Gursel eloquently pleaded for dismissal of the case. His grounds: the nature of the arrests violated the NATO status-of-forces agreement, which specifies that offenders shall be confronted with accusing witnesses. have the right to get in touch with their consular officials, and be brought to speedy trial.

Denying the dismissal request, Judge Varol announced that the next session of the slow-motion trial would be Sept. 12, then slapped a ban on further reporting of the proceedings in the Turkish press. Meanwhile, all signs were that, whatever the status-of-forces agreement might say, U.S. consular officials had shown little interest in getting in touch with the four sergeants. During the testimony, Sergeant Dale McCuistion, the chief defendant, angrily blurted that a fellow serviceman's Turkish wife, who had been with McCuistion at the time of his arrest, had not appeared in court because "the American consul gave her a U.S. visa and let her get out of Turkey." Infuriated by the charge, for which McCuistion offered no supporting evidence, U.S. consul in Izmir, Miss Patricia Byrne, cornered McCuistion after the session and said: "I think you're pretty slimy to say a thing like that." "It's true," replied McCuistion, whereupon the other three prisoners chimed in to ask why Consuls Byrne or Donald Eddy had not come to talk with them during the past four weeks. Replied Consul Byrne: the U.S. military establishments are big enough to take care of four sergeants.

Undispelled Doubts. Among the recriminations flying in both Turkey and the U.S. was a story that the torture charges had been trumped up by a U.S. officer assigned to NATO headquarters in Izmir and involved, at least by failing to denounce them, in McCuistion's alleged black-market activities. To anyone familiar with the widespread currency black marketing practiced both by Turks and foreigners resident in Turkey, this story was not implausible. But so long as U.S. and Turkish authorities persisted in behaving as though the whole affair was none of the public's business, there would be public doubts that justice was being done in Izmir.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.