by Debby Giusti
He returned and smiled. “Ready to go to your father’s unit?”
She continued to be pleasantly surprised as they drove across post. A stream meandered next to a walking trail that bordered a grassy knoll. The plentiful stands of trees and expansive green spaces reminded her of a national park. She’d been to Fort Meyer and Fort Belvoir in Virginia with the senator. Both posts were beautiful, but they weren’t troop posts where soldiers trained for war. Somehow she hadn’t expected anything as lush at Fort Rickman.
“It looks so peaceful,” she said as they drove along a quiet two-lane road, overhung with a canopy of live oaks. “I expected dusty training areas with little or no vegetation.”
He pointed left and then right. “The training areas stretch east and west on either side of the main post garrison. If you’d like, we could drive there.”
She held up her hand. “That won’t be necessary. I’m not even sure about stopping by my father’s unit.”
“I thought you wanted to know more about who he was and what was important to him.”
“I do. It’s just that...” She hesitated. “I don’t know what to expect.”
“Not to worry. From what I’ve heard, Sergeant Major Harris was well liked and well respected. I’m sure his men and colleagues will enjoy meeting you.”
Tyler made a number of turns that eventually led to the engineer battalion. He pointed to a one-story brick building with a military flag hanging in front. To the side and rear were a number of three-story buildings.
“The taller structures are the barracks where the soldiers live. Battalion headquarters sits in the middle. That’s where the commander works, along with his staff and the command sergeant major.”
“Which was my father’s position.”
“That’s correct. He was the ranking noncommissioned officer in the battalion.”
All around them soldiers scurried from building to building. In the distance, she saw men standing in formation, and beside one of the barracks, military personnel were scrubbing trash cans. A soldier picked up a scrap of paper and tossed it in a nearby receptacle.
“Looks like everyone takes pride in maintaining the area.”
“I’m sure your father stressed that to his men.”
“They look so young.”
“That’s because they are, Carrie. Many of them are right out of high school.”
“And going to war.”
“If their unit is deployed.”
Pulling to a stop, he again opened her door and then ushered her toward the headquarters.
Stepping inside, she was surprised when three soldiers, sitting at desks, all rose to greet her. She hadn’t expected their manners or their welcoming smiles.
“Afternoon, ma’am,” they said practically in unison. The tallest of the three men turned to Tyler. “How may I help you, sir?”
He showed his identification and gave his name and Carrie’s. “I’d like to talk to Corporal Fellows’s first sergeant.”
“Yes, sir. That would be First Sergeant Baker. I’ll call him and ask him to come to headquarters.”
Tyler glanced at the office to the rear. The nameplate on the door read Command Sergeant Major Adams, evidently the man who had taken her father’s position.
“Is the sergeant major in?” Tyler asked.
“Ah, no, sir. He’s tied up at main post headquarters along with the commander.”
“Ms. York is Sergeant Major Harris’s daughter. I’m sure she’d appreciate seeing her father’s former office, if you don’t mind.”
One of the other men came from around his desk. “Your dad was a fine man who did everything he could to help the troops. I’d be happy to show you around.”
She followed the soldier into a corner office. A large desk sat in front of two windows. Three flags, including the American flag, stood nearby.
“Your father had the side wall filled with awards and commendations, ma’am. Close to thirty years on active duty. That’s a career to be proud of, although I don’t have to tell you.”
She nodded, unable to think of anything to say that wouldn’t expose her mixed emotions. “How did he treat the other men in the unit?” she asked, searching for something to say that wouldn’t reveal her lack of knowledge of the military.
“He was by the book, if that’s what you mean, ma’am, although the sergeant major liked to laugh. A deep bellowing sound that would fill a room. If you heard him laugh, you knew everything would be okay.” Her guide suddenly looked embarrassed. “Forgive me, ma’am. I’m not telling you anything you didn’t already know.”
His statement took her aback. Confusion swept over her as it had too many times over the last twenty-some hours. If only she had heard her father’s laughter.
Tears stung her eyes and a lump filled her throat. Not wanting the sergeant to realize her upset, she choked back her thanks and returned to the main area where Ty stood to the side talking to another man in uniform.
“I’ll wait for you outside,” she managed to say in passing as she hurried out the door and toward the car. Breathing in the fresh air, she stared at the pristine grounds that had been her father’s life for close to thirty years. She knew so little about the military, and everything she thought she knew was proving to be wrong.
A breeze stirred the trees and made her hair swirl in front of her face. She pulled it behind her ears and wiped her hand across her cheeks. She needed to be strong, especially here, surrounded by men and women in uniform who sacrificed so much for the nation.
Carrie thought she had known who she was and where she’d come from. Since George Gates had called her, she had realized how her past had been clouded by her mother’s lies. Regrettably the foundation upon which she’d built her life had been false.
Before arriving at Tyler’s car, someone shouted her name. She turned, seeing a soldier, late thirties, blond hair visible under his beret. He ran toward her.
“Ma’am, one of the men said you were Sergeant Major Harris’s daughter.”
“That’s correct.”
He held out his hand. “Sergeant Oliver, ma’am. Pleased to meet you.”
She returned the handshake.
“I was with your father in the Middle East and served with him here at Fort Rickman. His death was hard on all of us who knew him. If there’s anything I can do, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.”
“You’ve heard about the ceremony at the end of the month for Freemont veterans?”
“My father’s lawyer mentioned that a plaque would be unveiled honoring my father.”
“Yes, ma’am. The unit’s putting together a slide slow that will be played during the ceremony. The photos highlight the work our soldiers do within the civilian community. I want to add a portion about your father since he’s being honored.”
“That’s very thoughtful.”
“It’s the least I can do to recognize his contribution. He did a lot of good for a lot of people, but then I don’t have to tell you. Although I’ve got a number of pictures that the Public Affairs Office has taken, I’d like to include a few more. Any chance I could borrow some of the snapshots he had at home?”
“He has an office in the rear of the house. I could search through his papers.”
The sergeant handed her his business card. “Call me if you find some that might work. I can pick them up anytime.”
“Give me a day or two, Sergeant.”
“That’s fine, ma’am, and I don’t want to pressure you.”
“You’re not, it’s just that I’ve got a lot to take in when it comes to my father. Being on post today seems to be affecting me emotionally.”
“Grief is hard, ma’am.”
She appreciated the sergeant’s understanding. Turning to regain her composure, Carrie gazed at the various military structures, surprised to see a wooden building with a steeple and cross on the next block. “Is that a church?”
Oliver nodded. “Yes, ma’am. It’s S
oldiers Chapel. The sergeant major’s funeral was held there.”
“Not in Freemont?”
“He worshipped on-post, ma’am, and as I understand it, he requested to have his service at the chapel.”
When Carrie had met with George Gates this morning, she had expressed her desire to see her father’s grave, although she hadn’t thought to ask about the funeral and where it had taken place. The realization hung heavy on her shoulders. That should have been one of her first questions. “Do you know where he was buried?”
“Freemont Cemetery. It’s on Freemont Road, which connects the post to town. You probably passed it on your way to Fort Rickman.”
“I’m sure we did.” But her mind had been on other things rather than burying the dead.
“I wasn’t able to attend the graveside service,” Oliver admitted. “The men said the chaplain did a good job.”
Oliver glanced back at the headquarters. “I won’t take any more of your time, and I’d better get back to work.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. If you see Special Agent Zimmerman inside, would you mind telling him I plan to visit the chapel?”
“Will do, ma’am.”
The sun peered through the clouds and warmed Carrie’s back as she hurried toward the chapel. A group of soldiers doubled-timed along the nearby road, the rhythmic cadence of their Jody calls sounding in the quiet afternoon. Under other circumstances, she would have smiled at the lighthearted jingle about military life that set the pace as the soldiers ran in formation, but at this moment and after everything that had happened, the slap of their boots on the pavement reminded her of the long line of men and women who had gone to war.
Today their sacrifice seemed especially hard to bear. While she had been getting her degree and living the good life, so many had shipped off to the Middle East. Some hadn’t returned home. Others had been maimed, wounded or psychologically or emotionally scarred.
Greater love hath no man...
The words from scripture played through her mind in time with the passing unit.
Arriving at the chapel, she climbed the steps, pulled open the glass door and stepped into the small narthex. Religious magazines and pamphlets hung on racks to the left. A door on the right led to an office. Seeing no one inside, she continued on into the sacristy, where she was welcomed by reflected sunlight that angled through the stained glass windows.
The scent of candle wax hung heavy in the air. She inhaled deeply and recalled the few times in her youth that she’d attended Sunday services. A relationship with the Lord hadn’t been one of her mother’s priorities. Regrettably Carrie had followed in her mother’s less-than-faithful footsteps.
She slipped into a pew midway down the aisle and closed her eyes. Pictures flashed through her mind of the bigger-than-life hero she had envisioned in her youth. That make-believe dad had been repeatedly berated by her mother who had little to say that was positive about the military. Landing a job with the senator had further eroded any idealized concept that remained of her father.
Opening her eyes, she gazed at the cross hanging on the wall behind the altar, knowing she had hardened her heart not only to her parents, but also to the Lord.
Instead of embracing Christ’s message of love and forgiveness, she had turned her focus inward, to her own self-serving needs. Just like many of the people with whom she worked with in Washington, the emphasis was on their own lives and not the true well-being of the nation.
Could she have been so wrong?
A door opened. She turned to see two men in uniform enter the chapel. The older of the two—a man in his forties—nodded before stepping inside the office. The younger man, early twenties, followed.
Feeling suddenly ill at ease, she left the pew and headed for the door, which opened again. Ty entered the chapel, his gaze filled with question as if he wondered why she was seeking solace in this place of worship.
Glancing into the office, he raised his hand in greeting. “Afternoon, Chaplain.”
The older man met him in the narthex. The two shook hands. “Good to see you, Tyler. I have a feeling your visit involves Corporal Fellows. Terrible shame. We’ve lost too many soldiers in the Middle East. Tragic some succumb to violence in our own country.”
“Yes, sir.” Tyler introduced Carrie to the chaplain.
She accepted his handshake. “Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Carolyn York. I believe you officiated at my father’s funeral. Sergeant Major Harris.”
The chaplain’s square face softened. “Less than two weeks ago. My sympathies. Your father was a good man with a strong faith. Knowing him was an honor.”
She tried to smile, but the twisted feelings of inadequacy tangled around her heart. “I didn’t know my father, and only learned of his death a few days ago. I’m trying to piece together a picture of who he was.”
The chaplain nodded as if he understood. “Be assured that he loved the Lord.”
“Which seems strange for a man of war.”
“A man of peace,” the chaplain corrected. “The military protects and defends against forces of evil that threaten our way of life. Our soldiers provide a deterrent against aggression. God would not have us stand idly by when evil looms so close and threatens those who cannot protect themselves.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
The chaplain turned to the younger man and introduced his assistant, Jason Jones. “Can you find one of the programs from Sergeant Major Harris’s funeral for Ms. York?”
“Yes, sir.” The soldier rummaged in a file cabinet and then handed her a folded program. A cross with lilies adorned the front.
She turned it over and stared at the photo of the man in uniform pictured on the back cover, the father she had never known.
“Thank you for your kind words, Chaplain. I’d like to visit his grave site at some point.”
“Of course.” He turned to Tyler, who had remained silent. “You know the Freemont Cemetery. It’s not far from post if you go out the main gate.”
Tyler nodded. “On the left off Freemont Road.”
“That’s correct. Enter the cemetery and make a right at the dead end. The grave sits on a small knoll around the first bend. You’ll see the newly covered grave about twenty feet from the road on your right. The sergeant major had chosen the grave site just a few days prior to his death.”
“Was there some urgency in selecting a burial spot?” Carrie asked. “My father wasn’t that old. Had he been ill?”
“He told me that he thought about selling his property and moving to Florida, but reconsidered. Evidently his ancestors had settled around here in the 1800s. Once he made the decision to stay in Freemont, he made arrangements for his burial, although I don’t think he realized how timely his decision would be.”
“Did he ever talk about other family members?” she asked.
“He mentioned a daughter he had never seen.” The chaplain’s gaze was filled with compassion. “I presume that’s you, Carrie. But he had no other family.”
“Thank you, Chaplain.” She nodded to the soldier who had found the funeral program before she turned to Tyler. “If we have time, I’d like to stop at the cemetery.”
“Of course.” He shook hands with the chaplain. “Good seeing you, sir.”
Stepping outside, she glanced at the building where her father had worked. A soldier, yet a man of God and a man of peace, which went counter to what she had believed about him for the past few years. Pulling her coat around her neck, she and Tyler hurried back to the car. He opened the door, and she slipped into the passenger seat, still struggling with both confusion and grief. She had come to Fort Rickman hoping to get answers as to who her father was, but what she had learned only bewildered her more. A good man, a role model to his soldiers, a man who loved the Lord?
He’d chosen his grave site just days prior to his death and had been killed in a fall nearly two weeks before another soldier from his unit was tragically and heinously murdered on her father’s
property. Surely the two deaths had to be intertwined. But how?
* * *
Tyler sensed Carrie’s tension as they left Fort Rickman and headed north along Freemont Road. She’d been hit with a lot of information about her father, all good, but probably hard to sort through, as well.
“I’m glad you met the chaplain, Carrie. He’s a good man. Seems he thought highly of your father.”
“Thank you for taking me to post. I...I don’t think I could have found his unit on my own.”
“The cemetery isn’t far, but I know you’re probably worn out. Do you want to stop now or would you rather return another day?”
“Now, if you have time.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“What did you find out from the first sergeant?” she asked.
“Only that Corporal Fellows did his job, although he kept to himself. The first sergeant will talk to the guys in his platoon and see if anyone knows anything about his private life.”
“Did the rental situation concern you?”
“Only if your father was Fellows’s boss. The CID learned Fellows hadn’t been here long and arrived well after your father’s time on active duty ended.”
“I wonder if they were friends or ever did things together. I keep thinking it’s more than a coincidence that they both died in the same area so closely together.”
Tyler had to agree, but he knew investigations could change direction in the blink of an eye when the right piece of information was revealed. The CID was looking into Fellows’s past. The Freemont police were investigating the murder from the civilian angle, and Tyler was keeping tabs on the newly found daughter whose arrival in Freemont corresponded with Fellows’s death.
A coincidence?
Maybe yes.
Or maybe no.
SIX
Tyler turned into the cemetery and followed the chaplain’s directions. Seeing the newly covered grave, he pulled to the side of the road. Carrie opened the passenger door and sighed as she stepped from the car.
Together, they walked to where dried flower arrangements still covered a mound of soil. A small stone indicated the number of the grave but not the name of the deceased buried there.
