2. Mutiny at the pentagon

The good ship Pentagon was almost rocked by a mutiny when a Navy captain named "Buzz" Lloyd decided to challenge Pentagon regulations regarding the parking of cars in the parking space reserved for small automobiles.

I was invited by the fighting captain to attend his trial in the Pentagon traffic court where he was accused of parking his Chrysler in the small-car parking space. Captain Lloyd had deliberately parked his car in this space, because he felt that Pentagon was discriminating against American cars.

Apparently the only space which is never filled in the morning, according to the captain, is the small-car parking lot. Therefore, the captain maintains, the Pentagon is unwittingly encouraging the flow of gold out of the United States by forcing military officers to buy foreign cars so they can have a place to park. Rather than pay his fine, he decided to go to court and make a plea for the American automobile.

When I arrived in the courtroom with the captain, I found it was already crowded with lieutenants, commanders, colonels, and civilians, waiting to face the Federal Traffic Commissioner. All these officers, in charge of moving thousands of troops, ships, planes, and supplies, had parked in the wrong place around the Pentagon building, and had to appear in front of the Commissioner. Most of them pleaded guilty and were fined two dollars. Those who pleaded not guilty were asked to wait.

Captain Lloyd had brought a photograph of the parking lot with him. Since he was the only one who looked as though he was going to fight, his case was put last on the docket. While we were waiting, I offered him two steel balls to play with, but he refused them, fearing that if the judge saw them it would prejudice the case.

Finally he was called before the bench. Standing ramrod stiff in the best naval tradition, the captain faced the judge. His accuser, a Pentagon policeman, stood a little to the side, a receipt for the ticket clutched in his hand.

'How do you plead?' the Commissioner asked.

'Not guilty,' the captain said.

The patrolman gave evidence that he did ticket the Chrysler which he found in the small-car parking lot.

Captain Lloyd did not deny the charge. But, clutching the photograph of the Pentagon lot, he made an impassioned plea against the small-car parking lot. He pointed out that no American small car, with the possible exception of the Metropolitan, could fit the specifications of what the Pentagon had designated a small car. A car had to be less than 160 inches in length and 61 inches in width. The Falcon, the Carvair, the American, the Rambler, and the Valiant could not be considered small cars by this rale. He said the small-car parking lot was full of Volkswagens, Renaults, Simcas, Fiats, and MGs. He told of attempts to stop the gold flow and cited the President's "Buy American" programme. He pointed out in the photograph that there was always room for foreign cars in the Pentagon parking lot, but none for the American cars. The judge studied Captain Lloyd's photograph carefully and he listened attentively to the captain's speech. Occasionally he made a note and finally, when the captain, fighting the greatest military battle of his earner, finished, the judge said, 'Thank you. I fine you two dollars.'

Captain Lloyd was told that if he still wanted to fight the small-car principle, he should park his car in the small-parking lot, only this time when he got a ticket he should take his case to the United States District Court in Alexandria. The Commissioner said he had no authority to rule on what constituted a small car at the Pentagon.

The captain paid his two dollars and, looking like Billy Mitchell after his court-martial, left the room. I will always remember his words as we said good-bye. 'I regret I have only one Chrysler to give to my country.'