Unsung Heroes

This week we were given a list of 6 different unsung heroes and asked to write a story surrounding one. The list was

Feel free to look these people up yourself if you are curious. I decided to do Stanislav Petrov and took the angle away from him and his situation and make a (I believe fictional) court case to see how others could perceive the impacts of his actions. Enjoy!

The Consensus Chamber

“Now, you have heard all of the evidence that will be listed in this trial. It is now your job to discuss and come to the conclusion about whether Stanislav Petrov is innocent or guilty. You have three days from now to reach a verdict and you will need to all agree one way or another. The decision now lies with you.” Until that moment, every juror had not fully grasped the way in which their choices on this matter could have an impact. Slowly they were taken by a member of the court to a room not far away. Each step felt heavy and the sound of the bolt on the door locking them in, ricocheted around the room knowing now they had someone’s career and life in their hands.

They all shuffled awkwardly around the table and took their seats with no one willing to be the initiator in the conversations that needed to be had. The sound of the clock ticked in the background, it was the loudest sound in the room.

“Shall we start by seeing where we all stand?” a voice sounded out, making a few of the jurors visibly jump, followed by murmurs of agreement. Around the room they went, twelve people, twelve votes, six each way. “Those who think guilty, make your case. Let’s discuss.”

“He’s guilty, he admitted to the fault that he did, I don’t even see the point of going any further on this matter. He had orders, he ignored them. It’s as simple as that.” You could feel people in the room getting combative at the bluntness of the individual and so the responses began. “Have you ever been in a situation like that? Where you think there’s a mistake and you need to make a call? His choice to not report it meant we are all able to sit here today and even bother to discuss this matter. I am certain that had we retaliated to those erroneous missiles it would have been the end of our country as we know it.” You can imagine these conversations in quite a similar manner to the ones you may see in the British Houses of Parliament but a little bit more civil.

“His actions put all of us at risk”, another guilty juror stated, “if those missiles were real, we would all be in trouble and would have never retaliated. It would have given the Americans complete victory without so much as a blink.” “But he was right. It was a false alarm. Why the military thought to put a new system in place that has this fault and retired the old one is maddening.” “Five missiles, he had five pretty big warnings and none of them were taken into account. How much more negligence do you have to have?”

Time ticked forward as the smell of stale smoke began to fill the air of the room. A knock was heard on the door startled them all; the end of the day had come and they all had to leave to go home for the evening. Many were steadfast in their belief and slept like a baby, others lay wide awake toiling over the facts uncertain on the choice they should make.

When the next day arrived, they once again went around the room. This time the initial vote sat at seven to five. A small shift but it showed movement in the case. The discussions started up again but this time you could feel the resolve of some people from both sides starting to falter.

“There was confirmation of the error from the military themselves!”, exclaimed a juror.

“But the system corrected itself later which makes it difficult to decide if we should blame the man or the machine” , said another.

For those with military experience in the room, they understood the embarrassment that would befall upon the superiors and the organisation if this man was found innocent, but they also knew embarrassment held no legal standing and could not be used either way.

So the deliberations continued to a table full of coffee mugs and cigarette butts; until the familiar knock came again. Another evening, another night of ruminating.

The following morning when the vote was counted it was now nine to three. One more vote in that direction and the vote would be swayed to majority. That evening when the knock came, a decision was required. They marched themselves back up to the stand to give their verdict. Silence. “We the jury have declared Stanislav Petrov…..”

And with that, the case was closed.