The Hunters (Presidential Agent 3)
Page 155
The chaplain from the Military District of Washington, a captain, who now found himself standing beside a Green Beret major—whose lapels carried the silver cross of a Christian chaplain and whose breast bore the Combat Infantry Badge—looked around in some confusion until his brother of the clergy took his arm and gently prodded him forward.
The casket team and escort detail marched at funeral pace toward the open grave. As the last of them passed the hearse, a Special Forces major in a wheelchair, pushed by a Special Forces sergeant, joined the detail. Then several men in civilian clothing followed the wheelchair.
The rear was brought up, after a moment’s indecision, by the Arlington National Cemetery’s official casket team.
As the column made its way through the sea of crosses and Stars of David to the open grave, another detail of Special Forces soldiers, eight enlisted men under a captain, relieved the eight-man cemetery firing party of their weapons and ordered them to form a single rank behind the new firing party.
When the casket team reached the grave, the casket was lowered onto the green nylon tapes of the lowering device. All but two of them came to attention.
Sergeant Major Davidson then handed the national colors to Lieutenant General Bruce J. McNab, USA, and Corporal Lester Bradley, USMC, who placed them on the casket, making sure they were stretched out level and centered over the casket.
Then they assumed the position of attention, and when Sergeant Major Davidson gave the order the entire casket team took two steps back from the grave.
The Green Beret chaplain then led the graveside ritual prescribed for members of the Lutheran faith. Then he stepped back from the casket and grave.
The captain in charge of the new firing party barked, in rapid order, “Present, h’arms. Ready, aim, fire! Ready, aim, fire! Ready, aim, fire!” And then, a moment later, “Or-duh h’arms.”
“Bugler, sound taps!” Sergeant Major Davidson barked.
When the bugler was done, Sergeant Major Davidson and Corporal Bradley began folding the colors. When they had finished, the flag, now folded into a crisp triangle of blue with white stars, was given to Lieutenant General McNab, who waited until the casket team had marched away from the grave and then presented it to Sergeant Kranz’s sister.
General McNab spoke briefly with Sergeant Kranz’s sister, then saluted her and respectfully backed away.
A middle-aged gray-haired woman—an “Arlington Lady,” one of the wives of retired general officers who voluntarily appear at every funeral—then presented a card of condolence from the chief of staff of the United States Army to Sergeant Kranz’s sister, offered her personal condolences, and kissed her on the cheek.
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As this was going on, the Special Forces firing detail returned the rifles of the Arlington firing detail to them, then marched to the waiting line of cars on the road lined up with the escort detail. They were joined by the casket detail, but without General McNab and Corporal Bradley, who was standing beside the general. Bradley then followed the general and Sergeant Kranz’s sister as the general walked with her past the lined-up Green Berets to her limousine.
When he had seen Sergeant Kranz’s sister into the limousine, General McNab stepped back and Corporal Lester Bradley stepped up.
“Ma’am,” he said. “I shall treasure for the remainder of my life my privilege of having been with Sergeant Kranz when he fell. Please accept again my profound condolences on your loss.”
When she looked at Corporal Bradley’s young—boyish—face and saw the tears in his eyes, Sergeant Kranz’s sister lost control for the first time.
“Thank you,” she said, barely audibly, then turned her face away.
General McNab gently pushed Corporal Bradley out of the way and closed the limousine door. The car then slowly pulled away.
At the grave, the officer in charge of the burial detail—who had waited to over-see the one soldier, “the Virgil,” whose job it was to remain at the grave until it was closed—saw that the Green Berets had decided to participate in that, too. A Green Beret sergeant first class was standing at parade rest at the head of the casket.
The officer in charge looked at the Arlington Lady, whom he had seen at many another funeral, and the two of them wordlessly agreed to walk together back to the waiting cars.
Halfway there, the lieutenant said, “Well, that was interesting, wasn’t it? Different?”
“Lieutenant,” the Arlington Lady said, “my husband and I spent thirty-three years on active duty. One of the few things I know for sure about the Army is that Special Forces soldiers are indeed interesting and different.”
[TWO]
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1745 6 August 2005