Angus sat in the back of the Jeep, giving directions to his quarters. The Admiral waited in the Jeep as McCoy grabbed his gear. He traveled light and was glad of that because when he came out, the admiral was pacing beside the Jeep. He waited for Angus to stow his gear and then took his seat silently as they drove toward Cameron Bay and the admiral's private landing craft that transported him off his command ship to whatever place he ordered.

The admiral stood quietly at attention as he saw the shoreline fading. Angus was nervous and quite sure he was about to see the inside of every latrine and shower on the admiral's ship. He didn't mind the Navy but only joined because it had been the first office in the line of induction offices. He saw no reason to go further since all the offices led to Vietnam. He had no fear of the war or any use for it. It was his duty and he had tried to do it.

As the boat bounced and the admiral reached out to brace himself, their faces were brought close together.

"I want to apologize for my conduct, sir. I wouldn't have socked him if I'd known you were there, sir."

"Glad you didn't know, then," Admiral Kelly retorted without illuminating the comment. "Very nice jab. You really ought to think of taking up boxing. You're a bit big though. You make quite a target."

This left Angus to wonder if Admiral Kelly was in favor of punching out assholes or if he meant he was glad to see his true colors. He knew he wasn't cut out to be regular army or to follow strict military discipline, but he did his duty and he followed his orders, and he thought those were the most important things to do.

"I'm not kissing ass, sir. I mean, I know I deserve to be punished for my conduct. It just that he's been pushing me since he showed up there. I'm not sorry I hit him but I know it was wrong."

"McCoy," Admiral Kelly said, turning to face the dejected sailor. "I'm not Commander Cochran. When I ask you a question, I expect a quick honest answer."

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, Admiral, yes, Admiral Kelly. It took me awhile to get here, son, and I won't make it through to another war. I want to enjoy the sound of my rank as much as I can. Humor me."

Angus was once again confused by the admiral's familiarity. It confused him because he knew Kelly was one of the big dogs, and Angus was just a face in the crowd.

"Yes, Admiral."

"Good! I want the details on your little escapade this morning. We've got fifteen minutes, fit it all in. I don't want any surprises later. Don't leave out the names. You're on, son."

Angus felt no reticence around the admiral. He wasn't out to make points. He already had all the points he needed. An Admiral was in charge and Angus trusted him to be fair and not to damage a sailor's career too badly over an indiscretion that couldn't be rectified no matter how much discipline was dished out.

He started with the two twelve hours shifts he'd run, the drinking the night before he pulled the two shifts, the later arrival of the other seaman that morning, and the phone call that started the events in motion.

Just before they were ready to dock with the ship, Admiral Kelly interrupted. "This seaman you hit, is he disrespectful of Vietnamese nationals, son?"

Angus looked at the admiral carefully. He wasn't going to lie. He wanted to lie but this wasn't a man you told a lie to and not have him uncover it later on in the day.

"No more than anyone, sir… Admiral. No more than me."

The confession didn't make Angus feel very good about himself. He remembered Sue Lee's face after he called her a gook. The Vietnamese knew how the young soldiers regarded them. It didn't make them feel protected or like they were there for some greater good. Angus told the Admiral about his comment in front of the girl.

"So when you hit Seaman Sistek, you were striking him for something you yourself were guilty of saying?"

"No, Admiral. I hit him because he insulted someone I cared about. You can't do a thing like I done and not feel some connection to the woman and to her child. Yeah, I hit him because I been dying to hit him for some time. I won't lie about that. We're water and oil and have been since we first laid eyes on each another. I wouldn't have hit him if he hadn't been so disrespectful of Sue Lee, but there was a lot more behind that punch than one day's priming."

The Admiral listened closely and stood with his hands held behind his back. He listened to the tone of his voice and the pace of his speech. Admiral Kelly had been around long enough to know how to spot a man who was shinning him on from one who was sincere in his beliefs. He'd known from his original contact with Angus that he was a good man who still had a lot of kid in him. He hadn't changed his mind during this exchange.

Seeing the way Angus reacted and hearing his explanation allowed the admiral an opportunity to form a more complete picture of a man he was about to put to work for him. He'd been fairly confident that Angus was the man he was looking for but now he was sure of it, but he wasn't yet sure how to get him on board. Simply ordering a man to do a job was one thing, getting him to believe in what he was doing was entirely another. Admiral Kelly was sure Angus was the right man but now he needed to formulate a plan that would get the maximum service out of him.

"Son, my orderly will show you to a bunk. If you need a shower, food, or anything, ask him. I want you clean, well rested, and well fed before we talk. I have a job for you and after we talk I'll decide if you're the man I want. It's the only reason you are here.

"Commander Cochran is a jerk who is looking for a way to advance his career. I don't approve of violence and there are ways to handle disagreements that don't include fisticuffs. If you are going to work for me, son, you'll have to learn to curb that temper. It isn't about you, McCoy. None of this is about you. We are fighting for the USA, son. That's all you've got to know.

"You go get some rest and I'll let you know when I have time to see you for a little chat."

"Yes, Admiral Kelly," Angus said, being left to wonder what he would be asked to do.

*****

"You're interested in police work as I recall," Admiral Kelly said casually as his orderly served them coffee.

Angus had been told to wear his dress whites. He felt regal as he sat in the luxurious chair in the Admiral's quarters. He was offered and took a cigar. It was lit for him and an ashtray was brought and sat next to his arm. A bottle of Brandy and two glasses were set upon a glass table that sat close to the admiral. Angus figured that if they ended up drinking from those two glasses, the meeting would have gone well. If they didn't drink from the two glasses, he'd be in deep shit by then.

"Yes, Admiral Kelly. I've always wanted to be a cop."

"Why the Navy? I'd think MP's would be more attractive," the admiral leaned to stir cream into his coffee as he spoke.

"I went into the first door I got to when I went down to join up. Here I am, Admiral."

"Okay, McCoy, I know my rank and I'm sufficiently reassured about it for now. Let's just talk man to man. I'm not so much interested in formality as I am in finding out if you're the man I'm looking for to do the job I have in mind."

"I'll do anything you ask, Sir. I am in the Navy."

"Yes, I know you will follow orders as closely as it is required of you. I have no illusions about anymore. I don't want someone who just follows orders, McCoy. What I'm looking for is a man that can assess a situation and not lose his perspective while he's changing gears to deal with a new wrinkle he's encountered. I especially am looking for a man who doesn't get flustered by a change in plans or a new direction.

"I must confess, I hadn't given you much thought since the last time I was here, but your performance yesterday was difficult not to notice. That's all the further back this conversation is reaching right now."

"I would like to be of service to you if I can. I'm in the military. I want to do something meaningful. What's this got to do with being a cop?"

"Nothing at all. I was making conversation. What this has to do with is being my personal representative. For now what I need you to do is escort a body back to the states. It's more a favor to me than anything else."

"A body?"

"Not just a body. Pvt. Strong was a hero. He was killed in a fire fight. He held his position and that gave six men in his squad an opportunity to get out of the line of fire. They were ambushed on patrol over near the Cambodian border. He stood his ground and six soldiers are alive because he did.

"I want him to get the treatment he deserves. I want to put a man on the detail that isn't going to leave Pvt. Strong for any reason. For the record, you can't go out for a drink or to get lucky with a WAVE. In short you will be on duty twenty-four hours a day until the Private is buried with honors in his hometown, Indianapolis. He has no family. We are his family. You will become his family. Can you handle it?"

"An Honor Guard? I wondered what the monkey suit was about."

"Exactly. The monkey suit is for respect. Our honored dead have earned respect. Pvt. Strong has earned more than most."

"You said, For the record I couldn't do this or that. What's that about? If there is a for the record isn't there a not for the record?"

"McCoy, you listen. I'm impressed. I'm glad you listen carefully. Pull your chair over here. This Brandy needs drinking and I'm not as young as I used to be. How about helping your Admiral out and maybe we can get to a second bottle before we're done."

"Glad to, Admiral," Angus said, lifting his chair and placing it in front of the table that held the brandy and glasses. Angus had drank Peach Brandy once, when there was nothing left to drink at a party. It hadn't been very good but it was alcohol. This brandy was far better than his previous experience with the beverage. The admiral did send for a second bottle before the meeting was concluded, but between the two of them they could only drink half of it.

*****

The plane hit an air pocket and it shook Angus awake. He wasn't happy about going back to the states. It wasn't where he belonged during the war, even though he'd only seen those three mortars fired in anger. The only other action he'd seen was in the apartment over Che Lam when he delivered Bostic's kid. Most of the rest of the action for Angus had come in bar fights and scuffles with other men who were on the same side. No, it wasn't much of a war yet. Except now he was assigned to accompany a body back to the states.

Admiral Kelly had asked him to be the honor guard for a man who had no family. He'd been awarded the Bronze Star for Valor but there was no one but a half sister they'd yet to find. Admiral Kelly had insisted that men who won the Bronze Star didn't take their final ride alone. Angus had been designated the man's companion for the duration. It was easy duty but not something he saw himself volunteering to do again.

"You stay with Private Strong until he's in the ground. That's your job and I'm asking you to do it well."

"Yes, Sir," Angus had said, saluting his commanding officer while listing hard to starboard after too much brandy. He tried to remember where he'd left the door once he was told their meeting had been concluded and the admiral disappeared. The Admiral's orderly had appeared as if by magic and felt it his duty to escort him back to his bunk. It was fortunate for Angus because it was a very big ship and the only thing he was sure of was that he could no longer feel his face.

"Well, Strong, say something. You know how dull you are? Are you always this talkative? You must have been a live wire on a date."

The metal box seemed too small for a body. It was a coffin but it didn't look like a coffin. It was more like a shipping crate to ship freight.

"What's it like under the gun. You did yourself proud. You had no yellow streak. I worried I'd want to cut and run if someone was trying to kill me. Tell me something, Strong, was it worth it? I'm sure the six men that are still breathing because of you think it was. Sorry we couldn't go out for a drink before traveling together. I wish I'd known you. I've never known a hero. I think about being a hero sometimes. You know, do something good for other people without considering the danger to myself. I suppose that's just what you did.

"Did you have a girlfriend? Did you die a virgin? I worry about that too. Man, I mean if I got to go I got to go, but not a virgin. Tell me you weren't a virgin. Yeah, that's a little personal. I understand you not wanting to talk about it. I bet you were a drinker. Aren't we all. This place would drive a monk to drink, or do they already drink."

Angus looked around him and had to rein in his brain. He wasn't in Vietnam, Republic of, any longer. He was out over the Pacific in his dress uniform, traveling first class inside a cargo plane in the company of heroes."

The plane hit another air pocket nearly knocking Angus out of his seat assuring he'd stay completely awake. The coffin moved slightly clockwise and toward Angus. He held out his hand to steady it before pushing it back to make it sit straight, front to rear. It was the way it should be, orderly, he thought. His hand stayed on the cool metal as he contemplated the fate of Private Albert Strong. It hardly seemed fair they were both taking the same trip together because Angus knew he would return.

"You keeping me on the job, Strong. I won't go anywhere if you don't. Or was that you Admiral? Keeping an eye on me are you? I must be going over the edge, talking to bodies and admirals who aren't there."

Angus wanted to be doing police work and now he was guarding dead bodies. It's what Admiral Kelly wanted from him and he owed that to him for getting him out of Chu Li and the clutches of Brass Ass. That seemed even further from police work than this. Driving around and hassling drunks and locals and guarding things no one could possibly want, made him feel more like a security guard than a cop. Maybe he should have joined the MPs. Maybe he'd ask Admiral Kelly for a reassignment once he'd paid him off for bailing him out.

"Who would want a body, old boy? Even yours! I guess it isn't so much guard duty as it is making sure you get where it is you are going on time and without difficulty, but there is no one waiting for you. I guess I didn't have to tell you that. Maybe a grateful nation, but I don't see a lot of gratitude, Albert. I bet the boys you saved are grateful."

"So, Strong, tell me, where are your people? What happened to your momma and your daddy? Wouldn't they want to know what you did? How you died? Are they dead or just lost somewhere? Maybe someone will read about you coming home and they'll want to come to see you off. Maybe a few of your school buddies. You couldn't have been out of school for long. You're my age. It's only been a year ago I was in school. Or would they all be over there? The ones who didn't avoid the draft. Would that make them smart, avoiding the draft, not dying for your buddies? And if that makes you smart, what does it make us, old boy?"

"You okay, sailor." The voice penetrated the silence or as much silence as there was on a huge Air Force cargo jet.

"Yeah, I'm fine. This is Strong. He's a hero. I got to see he gets buried okay," Angus confessed, moving his hand off the tin.

"Parents request you accompany the body back?"

"No. No parents. I work for an admiral thought it would be nice on account he died a hero."

"You didn't know him?" The captain asked.

"No. I didn't know him. Just now from the trip."

"Yeah, I heard you talking to someone. That's why I came back to check on you. You're the only live cargo I got listed. I didn't figure there were any stowaways. We've got a lot of them up front. No honor guards with them. You got the only first class ticket."

"It's a long flight. We've hit some headwinds. You probably noticed. I'm climbing above the turbulence and we'll be in on time. I'll pick up speed now. Just wanted to check in on you … and your friend. Carry on, sailor."

"Yeah, thanks Captain."

Angus watched the lone figure work his way back toward the front of the plain. If he's the pilot, who's flying this damn thing, he wondered. Not to worry, he thought, not too many complaints from the passengers if it's a rough flight. That's one good thing about flying bodies.

"So tell me Strong, any of those six men worth your life? If you had it to do again, would you? Would any of them do anything as brave or as selfless as you did? Cat got your tongue, Albert, or you just thinking about the answer?"

Angus thought the answer was no. The best of the seven men who walked into that ambush was right here, dead, because he was the best of the lot. Too many good men were dying, he thought.

*****

Angus had trouble stretching his big frame after spending so much time in a cramped space. When they put the medal coffin into the military hearse, Angus got in the back with it even when the army soldier invited him to sit up front. He wore green fatigues with his name stenciled across the pocket in black letters, Horscowski. He was far too happy go lucky for this duty. Perhaps he was just happy to be alive.

"He's a dogface. You're Navy. What the hell you doing with him,? Horscowski yelled from the driver's seat five feet away.

"Shhhh! He didn't know. Now I've got to get him across country and him knowing I'm a swab."

The corporal turned around to look in the back at the man with his shoulders stooped so he'd fit in the jump seat beside the coffin.

"You know him?"

"No, just duty."

"Not many ask for an honor guard. I don't think they know it's their right. You get a call, hey, your kids dead, we'll be boxing him up to you PDQ. Who thinks about an honor guard or asking questions at a time like that? I'd want one if I croaked over there. Only not much chance of my going over there. Graves Registration is a pretty specific MOS, you know? Anyway, I hate being alone and I'd ask for one if it came to that. Don't you hate that too? I don't get many guys to talk to in my line of work. Nice getting one what can sit up, you know."

Angus ignored the banter. He didn't want to talk to this guy. What did they have to say? He was tired, hungry, and all cramped up and he just wanted some fresh air. He wondered if Strong wanted to go out for a walk. He wondered if he liked walking, when he was alive of course.

The hearse grew quiet. He reminded himself not to talk to Strong with anyone else within earshot. He thought, this guy might want in on the conversation. He was sure others wouldn't understand him talking to a corpse. He didn't care much if they did or didn't, but he knew better than to complicate matters for himself in the military. Getting recommended for a Section Eight because you talk to dead people wouldn't look good on the resume.

Strong would be stored at the army depot morgue building. All the buildings looked alike, big, like old hangers now converted to receive its country's dead. There would be a flight the next morning and that would take them the rest of the way to Indianapolis and the final leg of the trip. Pvt. Strong would be home and he would be buried two days later.

Angus then had three days to himself before he caught his flight back to his new duty station. He hadn't given any thought to what he would do with three days. He'd been in the Navy for well over a year and except for a few days home before shipping to Vietnam, he'd never had more than a day or two to himself. He didn't know anything about Indianapolis but he thought about finding a good restaurant and a good bar and a cheap hotel an equal distance between the two. He would then see if he got too full of food or too full of booze first.

By the time they unloaded the coffin, Angus had been forty-eight hours without sleep. When he was shown to a room with a made up cot, he told the corporal he was going to stay with the coffin. His orders were to stay with the coffin and stay with the coffin he'd do. The two Army enlisted men that helped with the unloading tried to talk him into taking a few hours off but he refused that offer too. They hadn't expected Strong to come with company and everyone wanted to talk to him about what they saw as a gravy assignment. By this time they had all forgotten what was in the tin boxes they handled each day. Angus figured you'd almost need to forget about the once youthful lives that had been lost and were now housed inside those metal containers. It's not duty Angus would want.

Angus was convinced that he knew Strong by the time they got to California and he wouldn't call him, it, or that, or even him. He was a hero and he deserved that final respect and he for one would honor that. Angus had figured it all out by that time and no matter how tired or hungry, he would stand fast. He'd been plenty hungry and tired many nights around a card table but he played on.

It was an officer, Major James Winfield, who next came to relieve Angus. He was a tall lean officer with a youthful face but gray hairs were starting to interrupt the pure black at his temples. He had brooding green eyes that watched Angus with curiosity as he spoke to him. At first it made him feel uneasy, unwelcome in this depot of death.

"Seaman, he's RA. We can take care of him if you want to get a few hours rest. I know military transport isn't the most comfortable way to fly. You've certainly got something else you would much rather be doing. Let us take care of the body until you get some rest."

"My orders are to stay with Pvt. Strong, sir. It doesn't take much energy to be an honor guard. I think I can last another few days."

"Of course you can. What about a hot meal, a few drinks, I'll assign someone to stay with the coffin. He won't be left alone. I'll promise you that. Everyone needs to take a break. I would feel a lot better knowing you got some rest."

"No thanks, sir. I'm fine, really," Angus said. "I'll stay with Strong. I wouldn't know where to go around here anyway."

"You're a dedicated seaman. I hope someone respects me that much if I should bite the big one in this war. We don't see many guys like you here. The ones that do come through just drop the box and ask what time they should be back," Winfield mused. "Did you know him?"

"No, sir. I was assigned."

Turning to leave, the major said, "I'll have someone bring you some KFC. Most guys eat KFC. We got one near the gate. It's twelve hours before your flight. Let me know if you want anything? I'll be on duty all night. We doze but we never close. Business is good."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. KFC would be fine," Angus said with a military ring to his words. He did appreciate the Major's concern.

The chicken came back and a man sat with him while he ate. He kept looking at the coffin like he was waiting for Private Strong to sit up and ask for a piece of chicken. Then, he told Angus he'd only been assigned there for a week. He hadn't gotten adjusted to being around corpses yet. Angus let him apologize but didn't carry on a conversation. Before he knew it there was just the sound of the generators that kept the refrigerators running. The warehouse was silent.

Angus thought, there isn't enough chicken if they all sit up and ask for a piece. It was a stupid thought but it made Angus very sad because they could never sit up and eat chicken again, none of them. He lost his appetite and shoved the box to one side. He wondered what kind of a guy Strong had been.

He nodded off two or three times during the night but he stayed in the chair and talked to Strong every once in awhile, when he knew the footsteps were all down at the other end of the warehouse. He asked him questions and imagined his answers? "Did you have a girl? Would she know or would his letters simply stop one day with her never knowing why? Would she be at the funeral? Would his sister? Would Angus and the ceremonial guard and the funeral staff be the only ones assigned to send him off to that last reward? He felt privileged to be part of his final journey.

Major Winfield returned four hours before the flight was to leave. Angus had been leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. He heard the footsteps as the major turned to come into the room. Angus didn't want to open his eyes.

"McCoy, we have showers near the loading dock. The laundry staff is here. We do a lot of uniforms before shipping the boys home. You can catch a shower and I'll have them touch up the uniform if you like? Nothing like looking sharp. You get a bit wrinkled after a few days."

It was tempting but Angus declined when he thought about it only being four hours. He'd catch some shuteye on the plane and he had another uniform for the funeral. It was dark dress for funerals.

They came to load the coffin a couple of hours before the flight left. Angus walked beside the bier as it was rolled through the warehouse. The wheels clacked and Angus thought that they were out of round. Two uniformed Army men loaded the box as though it was a container of potatoes or something that required little care. Angus was beyond being critical of others who dealt with death. He talked to them after all and these guys pretended they weren't there.

"Have a good trip, Seaman," Major Winfield said, appearing at the corner of the huge half opened warehouse door as Angus climbed into the back with Strong.

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

He sure keeps long hours, Angus thought.

Before he knew it he was airborne once again. This time there was land below him and he was very aware of it. He checked the window over his right shoulder to assure him of that fact several times. It was comforting for him to know that if they crashed at least they'd be found sooner or later. When they were flying over the Pacific Ocean, he had no hope they'd be found should they go down, not that Strong would have minded, but Angus definitely did.

His eyes kept wanting to shut and he did catch short naps, but none he didn't absolutely need. Each time he awoke, his hand would reach out even before his eyes were open to make sure Strong was still with him, and he always was. This flight, two thirds across the country, was nothing like flying from Asia to San Francisco. Before he knew it he could feel the plane starting its descent. It lumbered and shook and there were sounds he couldn't identify but he had no fear.