Dead Hand

EPILOGUE:

After standing in the doorway without drawing his commanding officers attention, the young staff officer reached around and lightly rapped on the open door. Looking up from the letter he was writing. Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Shields needed a moment to refocus his tired eyes. "Yes?"

In a hesitant manner, the lieutenant who served as his adjutant advanced into the room. "I was wondering, sir. if there would! c anything further this evening?"

Looking over at the window, then up at the clock. Sheilds realized that the normal duty day had ended hours ago without his taking any notice of it. "I didn't realize it was so late. Don't tell me the rest of the staff is still wailing on me to leave before slipping away?"

The young officer took up a relaxed stance with both hands behind his back before answering. "No, sir. The sergeant major chased everyone else out about an hour ago. He tried to toss me out as well, but I held my ground."

His response brought a wry smile to Shields's face. "Rucking for captain already?"

Now the lieutenant smiled as he bowed his head to hide his embarrassment. "Oh, I can assure you. sir, my motives are pure."

"Then what, pray tell, is keeping you chained to your desk wailing for a tottering old fool like me?"

The smile left the young officer's face as he gathered himself up into a position of parade rest. "I was wondering if you've made a decision about the decoration. General Shane's office has called twice today concerning its disposition."

Any vestige of a smile disappeared from Shields's face. "Do you have it with you?"

Slowly, the young officer brought a package out from behind his back and offered it to his commanding officer. Rising, Shields reached across his desk to receive it. "I've been putting this off, you know," he whispered as he took the oversized envelope, carefully laid it in the center of his desk on top of the half-written letter, and slumped back down in his chair.

Once relieved of his burden, the staff officer resumed his position of parade rest. "Yes, sir, I know."

Shields looked at the envelope for a moment. He didn't need to open it. He knew who the medal was for. He knew what the commendation attached to it said. He had no problem with either since he had been the officer who had drafted the recommendation. What was bothering the senior SAS officer was the fact that he would have to deliver it to a person who would have no appreciation of what it meant.

"If you would like, sir," the staff officer finally ventured when he saw that his commander was hopelessly lost in thought, "I can arrange for someone of appropriate rank at MoD to deliver it to her. She lives right there in London."

Shaking his head, Shields vetoed that idea without a word. Again, there was a long impasse as he continued to stare at the package before him. Finally, he looked up. "You know, there's an old Japanese saying that fits this situation quite well."

Not knowing where his commander was heading, the young officer just nodded. "Yes, sir?"

"They say that duty is heavy, but death is lighter than a feather.' "

The lieutenant didn't need to have his commander explain the meaning of that saying, or why it applied in this case. Everyone at Hereford knew about the rift that had taken place between Patrick Hogg and his wife just before he'd left for Russia. The officers' wives freely gossiped about how Jenny Hogg refused to return to Hereford to collect her husband's belongings or to attend the memorial ceremony held in September, after the last of the Tempest participants were repatriated. She had made it very clear to anyone who cared to listen to her how she felt about the Army. Which is why, the young officer thought, his commander had put off going down to London to present her with the medal.

"She's done quite well for herself, I hear," Shields finally mused as he continued to stare at the package before him.

"Yes, sir. According to the missus, he's a well-connected barrister who's got his eyes on a seat in Parliament."

Shields sighed. "Yes, yes. A new husband with a real future."

This last comment made the young officer a bit uneasy. "I wonder if she never understood Captain Hogg or what the Army is all about. Seems like that's more common than we'd like to admit."

"Do you understand, Lieutenant?" Shields asked sharply as he looked up. "Does anyone understand?"

Caught off guard, the young officer didn't know quite how to respond. "In truth, sir," he finally answered when it became obvious that the question had not been rhetorical, "I don't much think about that anymore. I, like yourself, just do my duty."

Standing up, Thomas Shields stretched the arm that he had broken in Russia. "Do me a favor, Lieutenant. When you go home tonight, ask yourself that question. If, after careful consideration, yo-j, answer is the same, then pick up the paper tomorrow morning on your way in and start looking through the classified ads for a new profession."

Stunned, the young officer did not respond. Instead, he again asked his commander if there was anything else he required from him. When Shields shook his head, the lieutenant scampered out of the office as quickly as he could, leaving Shields alone with his thoughts, the posthumous medal for Captain Patrick Hogg, and a half-written letter to that officer's former wife.

Wandering over to the window, the SAS officer stared out into the quiet evening. In the end, whether Jenny understood or not, it didn't matter. While she and so many of her fellow countrymen could be casual about such things as duty, honor, and loyalty, he could not. Duty, indeed, was heavy.

But, Thomas concluded as he pivoted about sharply and prepared to call it a day, it was something that he understood. On the morrow, he would complete that letter and arrange a time when those who had fallen in the service of their nation would be given their due. That his fellow countrymen did not appreciate the price his men had paid to keep them safe and free was unimportant. Thomas Shields did. He imagined that every man who had ever stood watch over their nation did also. For now, that would be enough.