This story is dedicated to all of them; who, “scorned and covered with scars still strove with their last ounce of courage.”

They’d lain awake through boundless nights talking first of their hopes and dreams, then their challenges and accomplishments and finally to the house they’d aimed with the good Lord’s guidance and grace to enter as the finish came into focus. Both wanted to be laid to rest in the state they’d been born.

“Well, actually I don’t mind joining you, Gomer.”

Her daddy had at one time voiced serious doubts about the man she’d chosen over the one he’d so directed her to; Monroe Efford.

But, her daddy had stopped when she’d asked him to stop. And her daddy had listened when she’d implored him to listen and he’d learned that Gomer Pyle was the best man for his girl, his only child.

“Are you sure, Lou-Ann?”

“I’m sure if you’re sure, Gomer.”

“Well, I’m sure if you’re sure, Lou-Ann.”

“Then it’s settled.”

His great, cloaked heart had given way in the summer of ‘74. Never married, she’d given up and intended to move away from him, far away from California.

“No more, Vince. No more.”

He’d heard this lament before, countless times, and so, gave this warning short shrift.

“Bun, c’mon, we have time yet. What’s the rush?”

Her temper roiled, her tears welled, but, he did not see them, as usual marching ahead of her.

He never saw nor talked to Bunny again the final four years of his life.

His mother requested that his remains be brought back to Kansas for internment. She’d kept his childhood home immaculate and ready for that day when he’d leave the Corp. and return.

The Pyles accompanied the casket back and on an oppressively humid Kansas day his Sergeant was laid to rest.

“Gomer, do you remember that time when Vincy came to visit and you got stuck on the same plane and you ended up here at the house as well?”

Laughter abounded in the Carter living room.

“Oh, my, yes, Mrs. Carter.”

“He still believed to this day that he saw you up there in the attic with that candle holder! I kept our secret though.”

Gomer passed away late November, 2017. His wife took him home from California where they’d settled and made their life.

Only Opie and his brother were left of the old guard. Mayberry had not waited after all, instead had changed. Gomer’s cousin Goober rested near by.

The day was bright and beautiful, the Marine honor guard dutiful and precise. With the impeccably structured American flag clutched tightly Lou-Ann stood as tributes to her husband were spoken to her one after another. At the last a still distinguished figure approached. He momentarily stopped and laid his hand upon the shoulder of Duke, Gomer’s dearest friend.

Sobbing, Duke tried to rise to attention from the gray metal chair, but, could not.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“It’s okay, Marine...”

He moved toward the widow, her hair no longer of gold, now of silver. Age had been kind to them both.

“My goodness, Colonel Gray!”

The two old friends briefly hugged, then General Gray recounted how he’d always believed deep in his heart that Gomer was the finest Marine he’d ever commanded.

“He served an exemplary life, Lou-Ann.”

“Well, actually, Colonel, Gomer always held that you had watched over them all, that your command was the guiding light for my husband the remainder of his life.”

The tears she’d successfully staved off were finally free:

“That actually you were the best Marine he’d ever served under.”