W. Griffin - The shooters

General Wilson glared at her over his coffee mug. Miss Beth Wilson, who was sitting across the table from her father, rolled her eyes.

"The general is not his chipper self this morning?" Prentiss said to him. "We are not going to have our morning trot up and down Red Cloud?"

"For one thing, it's Saturday. For another, in my condition, I could not trot down the drive to Red Cloud, much less up and down Red Cloud itself."

"Well, Harry," Mrs. Wilson said, turning from the stove, "you know what they say about the wages of sin." She looked at Prentiss. "Your timing is perfect. You want fried or scrambled?"

"I was hoping you'd make the offer," Prentiss said. "Scrambled, please."

"You know where the coffee is," she said.

"Bring the pot, please, Tom," General Wilson said. "Unless you have an oxygen flask in your pocket."

"I can have one here in five minutes, sir," Prentiss said.

He took the decanter from the coffee machine and carried it to the table.

"And how are you this morning, Miss Beth?" Prentiss said.

Beth Wilson flashed him an icy look, but didn't reply.

"Does oxygen really work, Tom?" Mrs. Wilson asked.

"Yes, ma'am, it does."

"You heard that? Or you know from personal experience?"

"I respectfully claim my privilege against self-incrimination under the fifth amendment to the constitution," Prentiss said.

"Seriously, Tom," General Wilson said, "how much trouble would it be to get your hands on an oxygen flask before we go to meet the Castillos?"

"You want it right now, sir?"

"You heard what she said about the wages of sin," General Wilson said. "I'm about to die."

"Let me make a call," Prentiss said, and started to get up.

"Eat your breakfast first," Mrs. Wilson said. "Let him suffer a little."

"Oh, God!" General Wilson said. "Is there no pity in the world for a suffering man?"

His wife and his aide-de-camp chuckled.

His daughter said, "You all make me sick!"

"I beg your pardon?" General Wilson said.

"You're all acting as if it's all very funny."

"There are elements of humor mingled with the gloom," General Wilson said.

"Randy said he did it on purpose," Beth said.

"Randy did what on purpose?" her mother asked.

"Castillo did it on purpose. Castillo got Daddy drunk on purpose, hoping he would make an ass of himself."

General Wilson said, "Well, Daddy did in fact make sort of an ass of himself, but Charley Castillo wasn't responsible. Daddy was."

"Actually, I thought you careening down the drive on my bike was hilarious," his wife said.

General Wilson raised his eyebrows at that, then said, "It's not the sort of behavior general officers should display before a group of young officers, and I'm well aware of that. But the sky is not falling, and I am being punished, as your mother points out, for my sins."

"Randy says he was always doing that, trying to humiliate his betters," Beth said.

"You knew him at the Point, Tom," General Wilson said. "Was he?"

"Well, he was one of the prime suspects, the other being Dick Miller, in 'The Case of Who Put Miracle Glue on the Regimental Commander's Saber.'"

"Really?" Mrs. Wilson asked, as she laid a plate of scrambled eggs before him.

Prentiss nodded. "He couldn't get it out of the scabbard on the Friday retreat parade. Talk about humiliation!"

"And then he lied about it!" Beth said. "Randy told me all about that."

"What they did was claim their right against self-incrimination, Beth," Prentiss said. "That's not the same thing as lying."

"Randy said he lied," she insisted.

"I was there. Randy wasn't," Prentiss said. "I was the tactical officer supervising the Court of Honor. The court knew they did it, but they couldn't prove it. Nobody actually saw them."

"So they let him-them-go?" Beth said.

"They had no choice. Nobody saw them do it."

"Was that the real reason?" she challenged. "It wasn't because his father won that medal?"

"You get that from Randy, too?" General Wilson asked softly.

"Randy said that the only reason they weren't thrown out of West Point was because Castillo's father had that medal…that the only reason he was in West Point to begin with was because his father had that medal."

"Sons of Medal of Honor recipients are granted entrance to West Point," General Wilson said. "Staying in the Corps of Cadets is not covered."

"And he said that no one had the courage to expel the son of a black general," Beth went on, "no matter what he'd done."

"And what does Randy have to say about Lieutenant Castillo's Distinguished Flying Cross?" General Wilson asked, softly.

"He said it's impossible to believe that someone could graduate in ninety and be through flight school and flying an Apache in the Desert War when Castillo says he was unless a lot of strings were pulled."

"I am in no condition to debate this with you now, Beth," General Wilson said. "But just as soon as the Castillos leave, you, Randy, and I are going to have to talk. While the Castillos are here, I don't think it would be a good idea if you were around them."

"You're throwing me out?" Beth said somewhat indignantly.

"I'm suggesting that you spend the day, and tonight, with a friend. Patricia, maybe?"

"I've got a date with Randy tonight. Where am I supposed to get dressed?"

"Doesn't Patricia have a bedroom? Take what clothing you need with you. I don't want you around here when the Castillos are here."

"Yes, sir," she snapped, and jumped up from the table.

"Tom, would you take her to the Gremmiers'?"

"Yes, sir," Prentiss said, then added a little hesitantly, "General, I was sort of hoping I could get Beth to help me at the VIP house; make sure everything's right. And I know Mrs. Wilson is…"

"Get her to help you at the VIP house, then take her to the Gremmiers'," Mrs. Wilson ordered.

"I'm perfectly capable of driving myself," Beth said.

"We're probably going to need both cars," General Wilson said. "End of discussion."

[-V-]

Magnolia Cottage

Fort Rucker, Alabama 0845 6 February 1992 Camp Rucker had been built on a vast area of sandy, worn-out-from-cotton-farming land in southern Alabama in the opening months of World War II. It was intended for use first as a division training area, and then for the confinement of prisoners of war. An army of workmen had erected thousands of two-story frame barracks, concrete-block mess halls, theaters, chapels, headquarters, warehouses, officers' clubs, and all the other facilities needed to accomplish this purpose, including a half-dozen small frame buildings intended to house general officers and colonels.

After the war and the repatriation of the POWs, the camp was closed, only to be reopened briefly for the Korean War, where it again served as a division training base. Then it was closed for good.

Several years after the Korean War, with Camp Rucker placed on the list of bases to be wiped from the books, the decision was made to greatly expand Army Aviation. United States Senator John Sparkman (Democrat, Alabama)-to whom a large number of fellow senators owed many favors-suggested that Camp Rucker would be a fine place to have an Army Aviation Center. His fellow senators voted in agreement with their esteemed colleague.

Thus, the facility was then reopened and declared a fort, a permanent base. Another army of workmen swarmed over it, building airfields and classrooms and whatever else was needed for a flying army. They also tore down most of the old frame buildings-most, not all.

Chapels and theaters remained, and the warehouses, and the officer's clubs, and the post headquarters building, and four of the cottages originally built in the early 1940s to last only five to ten years for the housing of general officers and senior colonels. Two of these four-including Building T-1104, which had been renamed "Magnolia Cottage"-were near the main gate, outside of which was Daleville.