As Phil approached the HQ, the front doors burst open. Ross Calvert rushed out, jumped down the steps, and embraced Phil. Both laughed and slapped each other’s backs as they walked into the building, grinning from ear to ear.[1]

“Gosh, Phil, you look great. And you’re walking with a lot less limp.”

“I am. These new prosthetics really help. They’re made of composite materials. Much lighter than the first wooden leg I got. The ankle and knee joints are pretty realistic. Pretty soon, I’ll be beating you in a hundred-yard race.”

His old friend grinned. “I’m sure you will, Daddy-O, but let’s get inside. The old man’s waiting.”

Once they were upstairs, Colonel McGarr’s aide escorted them into his office. The colonel sat behind a formidable wooden desk signing papers, a cigar propped in his mouth. Upon seeing them enter and receiving their salute,

McGarr exclaimed, “Well, I’ll be damned! Captain Larimore in the flesh.”

He circled the desk and briskly shook Phil’s hand. They sat down ।on a group of overstuffed chairs, the windows overlooking the caisson stables. The colonel offered the men a box of Cuban Coronas.

“Cigars are in order, Phil,” Ross offered. “Colonel McGarr’s been put in for general. And, if I may say, sir, it’s well overdue.”

“Every commander needs a suck-up, brownnosing officer below him, right, Captain?” the Colonel observed, laughing.

Ross’ face reddened. “No, sir! I mean it when I say it’s overdue. How many colonels in the U.S Army commanded a regiment as long as you did? Twenty months, including a month as the acting assistant division commander of the 3rd Infantry Division. How many colonels in the war have a DSC, two Distinguished Service Medals, three Silver Stars, three Legions of Merit, five Bronze Stars, and seven Purple Hearts? And they didn’t give those out because you led from the rear, sir.”

Phil picked up the assault. “He’s right, Colonel. You fought right beside us, on the front lines, in Anzio, Besançon, the Vosges, the disaster at Colmar, and the Siegfried Line. None of the men in the other regiments saw their commanders up front as much as we did. And when you weren’t with your men, you were in a Piper Cub getting shot at. You didn’t just order us, sir, you led us.

“When we were slow off the line, it was your boot in our ass. That’s how close you stayed to us, sir. And when I was wounded, you got to me almost as quickly as the medics.”

McGarr threw his head back and roared. “You two sons-of-bitches make me proud. God, I loved leading you and the men just like you.”

(TO BE CONTINUED TOMORROW)

~~~~~

[1] Larimore, At First Light, 308.

[2] Larimore, At First Light, 308-309.

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December 24, 1945M