Lost Luggage, Foreign Hospitals, and Fighting Court-Martials Overseas

Everyone sees the courtroom.

What they don’t see is what it took to get there.

They don’t see the jet lag. The chaos. The malls in Istanbul. The medical logistics. The suitcase full of suits that never made it. They don’t see me showing up to fight for someone’s freedom after flying halfway around the world and navigating obstacles that would rattle even seasoned travelers.

And I like it that way.

Because when I walk into a courtroom, the last thing my client needs to worry about is whether I’m rested, whether I have everything I need, or whether I’m scrambling to play catch-up. They just need to know I’m ready to fight.

That’s why everything I do before I land matters as much as what I do once I’m in the courtroom.

This Isn’t Casual Lawyering. It’s Mission Planning.

Most people think being a defense attorney is about building a case. But if you’re defending courts-martial overseas, that’s just step one.

Before I ever see the inside of a courtroom, I’m planning like a forward-deployed unit:

• What if my bags don’t arrive?
• What if I get sick and I’m not near a military base?
• What if I get delayed and have no time to recover before court?
• What if I need legal documents I can’t print locally?This isn’t a hypothetical checklist. This is how I operate.

Because when you’re not stationed on base, there is no “reach back.” There’s no JAG paralegal you can call for quick support. No printer two doors down. No supply closet full of backups.

It’s just you. Your prep. And whatever you packed.

Lost Luggage in Istanbul: A Case Study in Contingency Planning

Let me tell you a quick story that has nothing to do with a case but everything to do with why I plan like I do.

A while back, I was already in Asia and took a quick personal trip to Istanbul for a friend’s wedding. I was flying in from the East. My wife was coming from Tampa. The weather caused delays. My connection was tight. And as a result, my bags didn’t make it.

No suits. No shoes. Nothing but what I had on.

My wife? Same story. United Airlines misplaced her luggage, and for three days we were basically tourists in a shopping mall, trying to buy formal wear off the rack in a foreign country.

Now, that was just a wedding. Imagine if it were a court-martial.

Imagine if I showed up in a foreign country with no suit, no gear, and court starting the next morning. That’s why I never cut it close. That’s why I build buffer time into my travel. That’s why I pack with military-grade precision.

You don’t get to blame the airline when you walk into court unprepared.

Sick Overseas? Good Luck.

Another thing most lawyers don’t think about: medical care.

If I get sick in the U.S., I can pop into urgent care or my primary physician. But if I’m defending a case in Europe or Asia?

I’m not on active duty. I don’t have access to military treatment facilities. That means I’m at the mercy of civilian hospitals in a foreign country—where access, cost, language barriers, and availability vary wildly.

I can’t afford to roll the dice.

So I:

1. Bring my own over-the-counter medications.
2. Stay ultra-disciplined about diet and rest.
3. Plan for hydration and nutrition throughout travel.
4. Build in margin days for recovery in case something goes wrong.Because if I get sick, there’s no replacement attorney flying in from my office.

There’s no backup.

If I’m down, the mission suffers.

The Real Cost Isn’t the Flight—It’s the Failure to Plan

When people talk about the cost of overseas trials, they think about airfare. Hotel. Per diem. What they don’t think about are the hidden costs of poor planning:

• Getting clothes tailored last-minute because your bags didn’t make it
• Rescheduling hearings because you didn’t build in recovery time
• Delays due to missed paperwork or forgotten exhibits
• Poor performance due to jet lag, illness, or fatigue
• Losing credibility because you look like you’re improvising. My job is to eliminate friction before it ever hits the courtroom.

That takes time. Experience. And the humility to prepare like things will go wrong—because at some point, they always do.

Strategic Logistics = Client Protection

You might think: “Come on Tim, aren’t you over-planning a little?”

Absolutely not.

Every logistical misstep puts my client at risk.

I’ve built my entire reputation on never letting my personal discomfort, my travel schedule, or my circumstances interfere with the mission: defend my client.

That’s why I:

1. Build buffer days into my itinerary
2. Arrive with every piece of equipment I might need
3. Print critical documents before I leave
4. Triple-check access to internet, backup batteries, and legal files
5. Shop for backup wardrobe if needed—before trial begins, not after something goes wrong.

This is not just legal work. It’s field ops for lawyers.

Global Case Calendars Are Like Tetris

Over the years, my case calendar has started to look like a game of Tetris.

Why?

Because it’s not just about which cases I take—it’s about how they stack.

I can’t fly from Korea to Germany and be in court the next day unless I plan that transition weeks in advance. I need:

1. Flight windows
2. Time zone shifts
3. Local court dates
4. Client meetings
5. Motion deadlines
6. Recovery days
7. Contingency hours

I decline more cases than I accept for this exact reason. Because if I say yes, I’m all in—and that means building the logistics to win.

Most Civilian Attorneys Have No Clue What This Takes

Let’s be honest: most civilian attorneys wouldn’t survive one overseas court-martial. Not because they’re bad lawyers. Because they’re bad planners.

They don’t:

• Train for the time zone shift
• Understand international access restrictions
• Prepare for luggage loss or illness
• Know how to function without their office. They show up like it’s a business trip.

I show up like it’s combat. And that’s the difference.

Final Thoughts

You don’t win an overseas court-martial in the courtroom.

You win it:

• In the planning
• In the packing
• In the recovery
• In the preparation
• In the mindset. By the time I land in Korea, Okinawa, or Europe, I’ve already fought half the battle.

And I’ve done it in a way that lets me walk into that courtroom focused, rested, and armed with everything I need.

Because my client doesn’t care what went wrong on the way over.

They only care if I’m ready to fight for them the moment court starts.

And I always am.