Chapter 52

12:45 Tuesday, November 26^th, 1991
Golden Gate National Cemetery
San Bruno, CA

Father Thomas O'Meara had been asked to officiate at this funeral. He'd asked for, and received the deceased's personnel jacket, and when he'd consulted with the next-of-kin, had been in for some very real surprises.

The deceased was born and raised Catholic, but hadn't been inside a church in nearly seventy years, he was told. The redheaded Irish girl named his two awards of the Navy Cross, both in World War Two, and what they were given for. She went on to talk about the Gulf of Tonkin, but Father Tom discounted that.

The other woman there, who claimed to be the girlfriend of the eighty-five year-old man, went on to detail his continuing service to his country as a consultant to the Office of Naval Intelligence, and said he still had been actively involved in some capacity. Father Tom discounted that, also.

He felt justified, too, when he arrived for the funeral service, under the dark and threatening sky. There weren't all that many umbrellas and all-weather coats, Father Tom saw, a pretty-typical turnout of about forty people or so.

There were two people in Army uniforms in the audience, two Enlisted, and there was a formation of Navy Enlisted in all-weather coats. There were a few Navy officers, too, standing toward the rear of the gathering. The girlfriend was there, too. The next of kin was there, next to the girlfriend, in Navy Service Dress Blue, and Father Tom was pretty sure that her rank was Officer Candidate. That was a mystery, since the deceased was never married – leading Father Tom to wonder if the girl was his illegitimate daughter. One didn't ask those sorts of questions, though.

Father Tom began the committal service after the casket was brought up and placed on the stand and 'Order Arms' was given. Next he went into the folksy recitation of the deceased's awards and career, and then the Next-of-Kin's brother was scheduled to speak. Father Tom was surprised when the very tough-looking Army soldier with the maroon beret stepped up for that part. Up close, Father Tom could see the soldier was actually redheaded, though his hair was very closely cut. On his shoulder he had a strange sort of banner-patch thing with the inscription "3^rd Ranger Bn".

The young man held no notes, causing Father Tom some worry for the ceremony. These people were watching Father Tom's showmanship, and he wanted to do a good job for them all, as well as the bereaved.

"Ladies and gentlemen, soldiers and sailors," the young man began. "I'm sorry as hell to be here today, under these circumstances. Deb, Admiral, Barbara, Gunny, Lenore," he spoke to each of the persons he'd named in turn, though his words had been amplified for the audience. "You know what a fine man we've lost. I knew the Chief for such a short time, but he has had so profound an impact on my life, as he has on my sister's and my girlfriend's, and all my friends gathered here today.

"I say 'all my friends gathered here today', for that was the gentlest lesson that kind and gentle man we're here to say goodbye to had, the gentlest lesson he ever taught. Look around you, all of you. Today we're all here as equals, but we're from all walks of life.

"I'm a soldier, and Chief Kostowe taught me how to sail and swim. Over there I see men I can identify as Navy Special Warfare, and they wouldn't normally be on the same acre as me, Army Special Ops, if it weren't for this man, Chief Kostowe. But I count them as friends today, and someday in the future when we meet again, they and I will remember this day.

"Over here, I see senior Navy officers, and a senior Marine. What do we all have in common? We had Chief Kostowe.

"'Keep your friends, Mister Collins', he told me on one memorable day when he taught me many lessons; and the man was rich in friends – just look around you, there's hundreds more for each of you who would have been here if they'd known.

"I can't keep the Chief as my friend in life any longer, and now I, and each of you, will have to keep him in our memory. And for those of us who knew him and counted him friend, we will be in a very unique circle, for as one of the best of my friends and my sister's fiancé has said, 'we are the richest of men'. Let it be known that any friend of Master Chief Boatswain's Mate Jacek Kopernick Kocew[1] is a friend of ours."

How Father Tom was supposed to top that, he was sure he didn't know, and so started what he thought of as the burial portion of the ceremony. Off to the left, behind the stone chapel, the burial detail had recovered their M16s from where they had stacked arms.

Father Tom turned to where the OIC for the funeral detail was, and signaled for the firing detail to fire their M16's with blank suppressors. "Detail. Attention! Shoulder arms! Ready! Aim! Fire!" There came the muted sound of 5.56mm blanks, with a blocking pin clamped in the barrel, to provide enough backpressure to work the gas-actuated action of the M16s. "Ready! Aim! Fire! Ready! Aim! Fire! Order Arms!"

From the other side of the chapel, there came the electronic notes of 'Taps', sounding from a fake bugle, faint and tinny in the moist air.

The OIC of the funeral detail ordered Attention and then Present Arms as the remainder of the funeral detail folded the flag. Every man present saluted, and two of the women did, also.

With stiff military precision, the National Ensign was folded, and as 'Taps' ended, was presented to the redheaded girl in the uniform with the white gloves and the single gold embroidered stars on her shoulder boards, and she in turn gave it to the older lady, the girlfriend. "For over the mantle," she'd said, her voice steady. Father Tom thought there should have been more emotion, but again, it was not his place to say anything.

"Order Arms" was given, and then Father Tom read the benediction and announced the reception at the address in Los Altos Hills that the Admiral who was present had given him.