bought a set of dress blues just before he went over there,” Mr. Withers said. “They’re here. I expect he’d like to get buried in them.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Hanrahan said. “But . . . I don’t know how to say this . . . the message we have said ‘the remains are not suitable for viewing.’ ”
“What does that mean?” Mrs. Withers asked.
“It means he got shot up pretty bad when they killed him, right, General?” Mr. Withers said.
“Yes, sir.”
“I think I’d like to remember him the way he was,” Mrs. Withers said. “I don’t think I’d like to see him. . . .”
“Goddamn,” Mr. Withers said.
“There are two other things I have to tell you,” Hanrahan said. “The first is that the Congolese government is decorating Sergeant Withers for his valor. Specifically, he’s being awarded the Congolese Medal for Gallantry, in the grade of Chevalier.”
“What about the U.S. Army?” Mr. Withers asked.
“He’s been recommended for the Silver Star. But that often takes some time to work its way through the bureaucracy.”
“And what’s the other thing?” Mr. Withers asked.
“As I told you, as I think your son told you, he was on a classified assignment,” Hanrahan said.
“I don’t understand that,” Mrs. Withers said.
“His being in the Congo, for some reason, was a secret,” Mr. Withers said. “Right?”
“That’s correct, sir,” Hanrahan said.
“I don’t understand,” Mrs. Withers repeated.
“It doesn’t really matter, Clarissa, when you think about it, does it?” Mr. Withers said.
“I guess not,” she said.
“But you said, General?” Mr. Withers said.
“So far the Adjutant General’s Department has not been officially notified of what happened,” Hanrahan said. “They’re in charge of handling all the details when something like this happens. But with your permission, sir, we’d like to bury Sergeant Withers. Send Special Forces soldiers to carry the casket, fire the volleys over the grave, that sort of thing.”
“I’d like to carry Clarence’s casket, ma’am,” Sergeant Major Tinley said.
“What’s the problem, then?” Mr. Withers asked.
“Well, I’m going to do everything I can to stop the normal procedure, ” Hanrahan said. “But sometimes . . . what’s likely to happen, I’m afraid, is that the AG will send an official notification team from Third Army Headquarters.”
“I get the picture,” Mr. Withers said. “I was in the goddamned Army.”
“Delmar, watch your language,” Mrs. Withers said.
“With your permission, I’d like to leave Sergeant Major Tinley here to make sure that everything goes smoothly,” General Hanrahan.
“Run the bastards off is what you mean,” Mr. Withers said. “Well, he’s the man to do it. Clarence said the Tin Man was the one meanest badass he’d ever met in his life.”
“And I’d be happy to stay as long as you need me,” Chaplain Martin said. “Actually, we’ve set up sort of a command post in the motel.”
“Maybe, Reverend,” Mrs. Withers said, “you could go see Reverend Pollman. First Presbyterian Church of Laurinburg. It’s right on Maple Avenue—you can’t miss it.”
“I’d be happy to, ma’am,” Martin said.
“I’d like to thank all of you for coming here like this, so early,” Mr. Withers said. “And I expect we’ll be seeing more of you in the week.”
“Yes, sir. Is there anything I can do for you before we go?”
“You’re not going to go without me fixing you all breakfast,” Mrs. Withers said. “And I won’t take no for an answer.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hanrahan said. “That would be very nice.”
XXI
[ ONE ]
Stanleyville Air Field
Stanleyville, Oriental Province
Republic of the Congo
1250 8 April 1965
Captain James J. Dugan and First Lieutenant Paul W. Matthews had been recruited—more than a little hurriedly—respectively from the 1st Infantry Division at Fort Riley, Kansas, and Headquarters, 3rd United States Army at Fort McPherson, Georgia, for “a classified overseas flight status assignment involving a substantial personal risk.” They had literally no idea where in the world they were going until fifteen minutes after the Intercontinental Air Cargo Ltd. Boeing 707 had taken off from Pope Air Force Base, North Carolina.
Then the captain had come into the cabin and told them they were bound, via Casablanca, Morocco, to Stanleyville, in the former Belgian Congo. There, they would be met by a U.S. Army officer, most probably Major G. W. Lunsford, who would explain to them what they would be expected to do.
It was fairly obvious to both that it would involve flying L-19 aircraft, as two of that type aircraft, wings and landing gear removed, were on skids in the fuselage of the 707, sharing space with crates of radios, ammunition, and other military supplies of one sort or