Spencer remained standing next to the grave while the crowd started moving back to their cars and buses.
“Spence, we’d better leave....” Woods was one of the few men there who dared speak to Spencer. “We’ve got to be at the White House in less than an hour.”
“He died so… so simply.” Spencer kept staring at the mound of earth. “I mean, he should have died like a hero… in Vietnam. You know, with a couple of dozen NVA piled up around him!” Spencer’s voice started to rise.
“Look around you, Spence” Arnason squeezed his recon teammate’s shoulder. “He is a hero, and when he died, he was near someone he loved a lot.” Arnason shook his head once from side to side and added, “You can’t ask for much more than that when your time comes.” Arnason’s thoughts went back to the long planning meetings he had attended with McDonald for the POW snatch mission that was going into Laos for Spencer and the Air Force colonel. He knew how fanatically McDonald had worked and could still recall the look in McDonald’s eyes every time he had glanced at the eight-by-ten glossy photograph of Barnett that had been placed on the briefing-room wall along with those of the Colonel Garibaldi and Specialist James.
It was almost imperceptible, but Spencer gave a curt nod of agreement and spoke. “Okay, let’s go or they’ll get even more pissed at me.”
Woods smiled to himself at Spencer’s statement. Spencer had told the White House aide that he would be a half hour late for his presentation because he had to attend the funeral of a friend. There had been a mad scramble in the Pentagon and the White House and finally the President had changed his schedule so that Spencer could be present at the grave site.
Spencer paused in the open door of the military sedan and looked back at the lonely grave. One of the gravediggers was tidying up the site. He smiled and then gave a quick wink before sliding down along the seat. Mary had caught the gesture and smiled herself; it was as if Spencer had just talked with McDonald and something funny had been said between them.
The national press corps was already assembled in the Rose Garden when the sedan carrying Spencer and Mary pulled up under the arched entrance.arnason and Woods had been dropped off in the spectator section where they could observe the presentation with the other military guests. Spencer was rushed into a side entrance of the White House by a military aide and Mary was escorted to a chair off to one side of the sunny flowered area where a number of senior dignitaries’ wives were waiting.
“Corporal Barnett, we’d like for you to wait in her until the President is ready.” The Army colonel began briefing Spencer on the ceremony. “It will be short and simple, with the President making the presentation. All you have to do is come to attention and tilt your head a little forward so the President can place the medal around your neck. You will be the only recipient today for the medal.” The colonel paused, trying to allow the significance of the solitary presentation to sink into the young soldier’s mind. When he saw that it wasn’t fazing Spencer, he continued, “Senator Strom Thurmond from South Carolina will say a few words in your honor and General Westmoreland will make a couple of comments about your service in Vietnam before everyone will come into the small reception room for coffee and cake… compliments of the President. Do you have any questions?” The colonel was becoming very angry because Spencer was not responding to the special honors that were being bestowed on him. It was very rare that General Westmoreland was back in the States and even rarer for him to have time for small ceremonies. The colonel had been privy to Spencer’s files and saw why they were making a special effort for the boy-soldier from South Carolina. The kid was the kind of material that hometown heroes were made of, and with the growing hippie and antiwar movement, the government needed another Audie Murphy.
The colonel felt jealousy growing inside him and snapped, “Well? Do you have any questions?”
Spencer looked directly in the senior officer’s eyes and slowly shook his head in the negative.
“Fine. Wait here until I come back to get you.” The colonel started to leave, then stopped. “That’s an order.”
Spencer smiled and walked over to a tall window that overlooked the Rose Garden and looked out. He clasped his hands behind his back and slipped into his own private world of thoughts.
A set of French doors opened and a man in his late fifties stepped into the high-ceilinged, ornate room. He saw the young soldier standing in the window light and paused on his way out of the side exit, then returned to where the soldier was standing.
“Excuse me, young man, but aren’t you the soldier who’s going to receive the Medal of Honor today?”
As Spencer turned to face the soft voice, the bright sunlight rested on the four rows of ribbons that covered the chest and upper left side of his uniform.
“You’ve got more medals there, son, than most of the officers I’ve met.” The man’s smile was genuine.
Spencer smiled back. “I picked up a couple.” He looked down at his chest as if he were just noticing for the first time that he possessed most of the nation’s valor awards.
“I’m Ronald Reagan, governor of California.”
“California?”
“Yep…” The man’s smile widened. “Have you ever been there?”
Spencer shook his head slowly. “Just long enough to pass through… thank God.”
Governor Reagan’s eyebrows lifted. “Why do you say that? We’ve got a mighty fine state....”
“Too much dope for this kid.” Spencer grinned. “You’ve got to clean that up, Governor, because it’s geting pretty bad over in Vietnam.”
“Are you blaming California?”
The look in Spencer’s eyes told the governor that the young soldier was.
“Well… I’m doing my best to clean up a lot of things in California.”
Spencer nodded in agreement.
“You sure do speak what’s on your mind, don’t you.” Governor Reagan smiled again. He was intrigued with the honesty of the young man—a trait that was almost extinct in Washington. “What do you think of the draft?”
“It’s good.” Spencer turned his head slightly to the left so that the warm rays of the sun would touch his cheek. The feeling comforted him. “As long as it’s fair and everyone’s number is put in the hat.”
“Yes… I guess you’ve got a point there.” Governor Reagan saw his aide hurrying toward the doors. “Well, I’ve got a meeting with the President right after your award ceremony.” A very wide grin spread out on the man’s face. “I was in there earlier when the call came in that you were going to attend your sergeant’s funeral. I must say that the conversation would have to have been censored if it had been televised. You’ve got guts, young man, and I admire that… loyalty too, and that’s a rare trait.” The governor nodded toward his waving aide. “If you’re ever in California, look me up.” He handed Spencer an engraved business card with a private telephone number on it. “Call that number and one of my aides will know what to do to reach me.”
Spencer kept looking down at the card. “Thanks! I might do that sometime if I ever want to learn how to surf!”
Reagan chuckled. “We’ve enough surfers in California to take care of you. Good luck, young man.”
“Thank you, Governor...” Spencer flashed one of his best smiles, “and I hope you make President someday!”
“Thanks, but California is enough for one man to handle!” Governor Reagan started his brisk business walk the instant he slipped through the double doors. Spencer watched him disappear down the wide hallway with his aide. Both men were talking with their hands as they hurried toward the conference room.
Spencer returned his attention to the gathered reporters outside the window. He could see Mary sitting with the wives and smiled to himself because she looked out-of-place among all the gray-haired ladies.
“Corporal Barnett? Are you ready to join us?” A brigadier general poked his head through the doorway.
“Yes sir.” Spencer checked his reflection in
a nearby mirror and adjusted his tie before following the general outside into the Rose Garden. Everyone there was staring at him and a barrage of flashbulbs erupted in his face. Spencer swallowed and felt a very unfamiliar nervousness start to form in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t going to like all this attention.
He saw the proud smile first and recognized the rest of the man standing in the crowd afterward. Spencer stopped walking behind the general and stared over the thick nylon rope that separated the spectators from the invited guests. He took the half-dozen steps to the place where the man stood with his wife and teenage son.
“What… what are you doing here?” Spencer was almost stuttering.
“A Sergeant Woods called us down in South Carolina and told us that you were in the Army and would be getting the Medal of Honor today.… You know we wouldn’t have missed being here for anything.”
“But you didn’t even try to find me… five years!”
The man’s wife cut in,” That’s not true, Spencer! He was thrown in jail for thirty days because he caused the social-services people so much hell!”
“Believe me, Spence, I tried, but they hid you from us and even snuck you into the Army without us knowing!”
Spencer could see in the man’s eyes that he wasn’t lying. He looked at his foster brother and smiled. “We’ve got to go coon hunting again… soon!”
“Promise?” The fourteen-year-old’s eyes lit up.
“That’s a promise!”
“Corporal Barnett? We’re waiting,” said the Army colonel assigned to military protocol. The brigadier general had his hand on the colonel’s arm and smiled. The colonel looked at the general and understood that Spencer had made another friend. “If you don’t mind,” he added.
“I’ll see you’all later.” Spencer smiled and felt a long-established hurt disappear. His foster parents hadn’t dumped him as he had been told by the social-services staff. “How did you get here?”
“Sergeant Woods paid for our air fare.”
Spencer smiled. He owed David a lot for this.
Spencer had loved living with the Callam family when he was a foster child in the South Carolina social-services program. They were the first real family he had ever seen where love and respect for one another were basic parts of family life.
Camera strobe lights flashed, bringing Spencer back to the White House Rose Garden. Even the Army colonel realized that something special had gone on between the boy-hero and the family from South Carolina.
The Army’s “Caisson” song echoed against the white stucco of the building the instant Corporal Barnett’s foot touched the carpeted patio. Members from the Old Guard Division’s band played the music they knew by heart. Spencer stood where the brigadier general pointed on the red carpet and looked back at the French doors. His thoughts slipped back to Arlington Cemetery.
Sergeant Arnason felt a shiver ripple down his spine. The air seemed to transmit excitement. He felt that everything in front of him would vanish if he blinked his eyes. Some of the most powerful men in America were casually talking to one another around the Rose Garden as they waited for the President to appear and make the presentation.arnason recognized General Westmoreland talking to Senator Thurmond from South Carolina.
“Hail to the Chief’ began abruptly by the band as the President of the United States emerged from his residence, followed by a half-dozen Treasury agents and aides. Everyone in the Rose Garden watched as he approached the blond boy-hero from South Carolina. Spencer’s foster mother started crying and her husband and son slipped their arms around her.
Spencer watched the President approach and at the last possible second the most powerful man in America smiled at the soldier, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Spencer looked away and blinked before searching the gathered crowd for a friendly face. He found Arnason and Woods and smiled at them. It looked like they were really enjoying themselves.
A voice coming from a hidden loudspeaker system stopped the music and small talk within the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen… the President of the United States.”
“Thank you very much for joining us here in the Rose Garden for this very special occasion. We have gathered here to honor one of our Vietnam War heroes…” the President glanced down at the three-by-five card in his hand, “Corporal Spencer Barnett from the great state of South Carolina.” He glanced up at Senator Thurmond and smiled; the senator was the senior member of the powerful Armed Services Committee. “Corporal Barnett has earned this nation’s highest military award for distinguishing himself conspicuously by gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life....” The President glanced down at the card again, then looked over at the closed doors leading into the White House. A professional-sounding voice came back on over the hidden speakers to read the official citation:
“Corporal Spencer Barnett, while serving as a long-range reconnaissance team member with the first Cavalry Division in Vietnam, distinguished himself by numerous acts of valor and courage at the risk of his life while engaged with and armed enemy of the United States of America.
Corporal Barnett engaged a large enemy force along with other members of his team in the A Shau Valley of Vietnam and he personally killed or wounded fourteen enemy soldiers before ordering his teammates to withdraw while he provided protective fire. The large enemy force overran Corporal Barnett’s position and captured him along with another member of his reconnaissance team.
Corporal Barnett was tortured by the enemy in the most cruel manner and yet he still wouldn’t divulge the top-secret information he possessed, which resulted in the direct elimination of over four hundred fifty-three North Vietnamese combat soldiers....”
Sergeant Arnason tried reading Spencer’s face but could see only a blank stare. The President was sweeping the crowd with his eyes, smiling and nodding his head at political friends and foes alike.
“... The enemy increased their various tortures and yet Corporal Barnett refused to reveal the location of sensitive secret equipment, even though others had broken under the extreme torture and compromised the information.
Corporal Barnett conducted himself honorably and with great courage that reflects highly on his unit, his country, and himself....”
The narrator’s voice droned on, impressing even the most hardened military men in the crowd. Corporal Barnett’s citation read like a Hollywood cult-hero movie.
Spencer’s thoughts were on Mary. He kept staring over at her and could see the extreme pride in her eyes, which made him happy. A military aide took two sharp steps forward and opened the blue leather box for the President. The beautiful light blue neck ribbon glittered in the bright light against the tan background in the box. The President removed the medal and held it up in the air for a second so that the cameramen could take pictures of him holding it, then he placed it around Spencer’s neck. The Old Guard band began playing “America the Beautiful.”
Woods leaned over and whispered inarnason’s ear, “Shit! this is making me jealous!”
Arnason smiled and whispered back, “Me too!”
The ceremony was well done and everything was executed perfectly. Spencer was escorted back to the small reception room for coffee and cake by the President, who excused himself shortly thereafter to attend an important meeting.
Mary went to Spencer and hugged him. “You looked wonderful standing up there!”
“Sure…” Spencer blushed. “I’d rather have been with you in the meadow....” Mary blushed.
“What are you two talking about that’s making your faces turn red?” Woods grabbed his buddy’s hand and shook it. “Coneratulations!”
“Thanks.” Spencer hugged Mary.
“Well, now that you’ve won The Big One, you can retire.” Arnason shook hands with Spencer.
“What do you mean retire?”Spencer was still smiling. “You know—Medal of Honor winners are never sent back to combat… it has something to do with everyone, including themselves, expecting too much from them.
” Arnason watched the color drain from Spencer’s face. “You weren’t planning on going back there… were you?”
“Yes… yes I was.” Spencer couldn’t believe what he had just heard. “You mean I can’t serve in any future wars?”
“Maybe, if the President himself signed your orders.” Arnason was being facetious but Spencer took him seriously.
“Whew! I thought there for a second that there was no way I could get back to Vietnam. Hell, if that was the case, I surely wouldn’t have accepted this medal.” Spencer smiled.
Woods shook his head and Arnason started laughing. “Spencer, what the hell are we going to do with you!” He turned to Mary. “Woman! Mellow this guy out for us, will you!”
“I’m trying… Lord knows I’m trying!” She started laughing too.
The next hour was filled with senior military officers and NCOs congratulating Spencer and people staring at the medal hanging around his neck. Spencer ignored the stares and enjoyed his friends and the members of his foster family. The fourteen-year-old kept reaching up to touch the medal.
“Would you like to try it on?” Spencer started reaching behind his neck to unfasten the ribbon.
“Please!” The Army colonel appeared suddenly. “Don’t insult the United States Army by letting a kid wear our highest award in public!”
Spencer glared at the colonel and was stopped from saying what was on the tip of his tongue by Arnason’s hand squeezing his arm. “He’s right, Spence… someone might get jealous if you let the boy wear it here in front of the press.”
Spencer glared at the staff colonel for another couple of seconds, then said to the fourteen-year-old, with his eyes still on the officer, “You can wear it later.”
“If you would please exit through the side doors soon, I will be able to get the rest of the people to leave and have this room cleaned up for the next event for today.” The colonel kept his eyes averted as he spoke.
Court Martial Page 12
