A. N. - Written for Memorial Day, this is dedicated to all those men and women who gave their lives in honorable and faithful service to their country.
Honorable and Faithful
May 1948, Annapolis, Maryland
Steve McGarrett stood squarely at attention, grateful for the cloud cover and light rain that offered some relief from the heat typical of late May in Annapolis. His dress whites were stiff with newness, worn only once a few days earlier for his graduation and commissioning. Today's occasion was far more somber in contrast to the joy and celebration of that proud day.
The historic campus was unusually quiet. Visiting families had returned to their homes. Most of his academy classmates, young men with whom he had spent the last four years, had already shipped out for their first tours of duty. Steve would board his ship in a few days, but since he was available, Captain Toner had tapped him for today's required duty: the burial with military honors of a war veteran.
While the chaplain read scripture, Steve watched raindrops fall on the polished mahogany casket draped in the red, white and blue of a crisp, new American flag. The gloomy weather took the young ensign back to another rainy day nine years earlier: his own father's funeral. Then, at age thirteen, Steve had held tightly to his mother's hand while his father was lowered into a lonely grave. There had been a few friends mourning with the three remaining McGarretts that day, but not many. Raindrops had blended with tears as Steve tried to comfort his heartbroken mother and sister.
The chaplain's firm 'Amen' at the end of the Lord's Prayer nudged the young officer back to the present. Steve lifted his eyes and glanced around at the family members gathered for the sacred ritual. Several men in dark suits and thinning grey hair were accompanied by middle aged women in black dresses and veiled hats. There were also younger adults, some teenagers and a few young children; by Steve's estimation, there must have been three generations at the graveside.
A sailor in dress whites raised a polished silver bugle to his lips. As the first notes of 'Taps' bid the assembly to stand at attention, Ensign McGarrett and Captain Toner raised right hands to cover in proper military salute for the duration of the haunting, solemn strain. When the final bugle tone had faded away on the damp air, the two officers donned white gloves and positioned themselves, the captain at the head of the casket and the ensign at the foot. Carefully, they lifted the flag by its corners and stepped around the casket until they faced one another. White gloved hands folded the flag lengthwise into quarters, then Steve began folding corner to side, over and over, pacing toward the captain as he folded. When he reached his superior officer, he held a neat triangular bundle, white stars on a field of blue. Captain Toner rendered a salute at the revered object in Steve's hands. Then Steve passed the flag to Toner, stepped back and offered his own respectful salute.
With a measured pace, Captain Toner walked over to the man standing closest to the grave and cleared his throat before he spoke the traditional words of presentation: "On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Navy and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your father's honorable and faithful service."
Honorable and faithful service… the words echoed in Steve's soul and he wondered about the man they were burying. What kind of man was he? What had his military career been like? The twenty-two year old newly commissioned ensign was about to begin his own career in the Navy and his young mind was filled with questions. What will my life be like? Will I be able to live up to the Navy's high standards? What will be said about me at the end of my life? His training at the Academy had been more than academics, sports and military drill. He had also been educated in the values of integrity, honor, and respect for human dignity. And Steve had taken his training to heart.
The deceased's eldest son whispered, "Thank you" as he accepted the folded flag from the captain and held it close to his chest. Steve noticed a single tear slide down the man's face. He averted his eyes to give the man some privacy. Family members stepped forward to leave flowers on the casket as they said their final goodbyes.
With their required duties completed, the Navy men discreetly made their way to their vehicles and left the cemetery. In Captain Toner's car, Steve rode in the passenger's seat in subdued silence with his hands folded in his lap as he watched the wet scenery passing by. After several minutes, Toner broke the stillness. "Something on your mind, Ensign?"
"Yes sir," Steve replied. "Did you know Mr. Gabrielli? Do you know anything about his service record...sir?"
"No, I didn't know him," Toner answered honestly. "I only know that he was a veteran and that's enough to warrant military honors for his burial." The captain knew that his response did little to satisfy his passenger's curiosity. The older man turned and glanced at Steve with an understanding smile. "You could go to the library and spend several hours in the archives looking up facts and figures on Gabrielli; you could go through his military records. But one way to know about a man is to look at the family he leaves behind: five sons, all good men themselves, several grandchildren and great grandchildren; that's quite a legacy.
"Yes sir, it is," Steve agreed. "And they were all present today. That says a lot right there…sir."
May 1969, Honolulu, Hawaii
It was a typically beautiful May morning in Honolulu but a rare morning for Steve McGarrett, now head of Hawaii's state police, since for once he was not in a hurry. He decided to get some fresh air and exercise by walking across the Iolani Palace grounds to the statehouse for his meeting with the governor. As he neared the impressive new building, he glanced upward at the American flag, flying proudly above the structure against an azure blue sky.
As often happened, the sight brought back to McGarrett's mind a veteran whom he had never known and the phrase that ever since was written on his own heart: honorable and faithful service. Steve had decided long ago to live by those words in everything that he did. It was what made him stand out against lesser men and earned him much admiration and respect. But for Steve McGarrett, his high personal standards served another, more important purpose. The way he lived his life was his father's legacy.
Pau
