Tradition Of Honor

Lucas squinted as he moved from the cool corridor into the bright sunshine of an unseasonably warm Washington May morning. The slight breeze that brushed against his face was welcome after a comfortable but slightly claustrophobic morning in the Pentagon. A couple of weeks ago Secretary General Noyce had asked Captain Nathan Bridger to come and do a dog and pony show for the U.S. military but Lucas never expected to be here helping Bridger brief on the boat. Nothing could have surprised him more than when the Captain had asked him to accompany him to these presentations but they'd made a good team. They had spent the better part of the last two days making presentations and answering questions about the new seaQuest and much to Lucas' relief they had managed to finish all their meetings earlier than expected. Between the two of them they'd definitely wowed the Pentagon brass with the advances they had in place and the plans they had for the new boat.

Lucas looked over at the Captain now as he settled his round combination cover on his head and put on his sunglasses. He wondered if Bridger knew how impressive he looked in his summer white uniform with the rows of ribbons covering his chest. It had only been six months since the UEO and the navies of the countries it represented had come to an agreement to allow the wearing of awards from either service and Bridger's rows of ribbons had expanded from two rows to nine as he had added back his U.S. Navy awards. Lucas had tried to get Bridger to tell him about some of the more important medals, especially the Navy Crosses and the Purple Hearts, but he'd just gotten quiet and declined to talk about them. There was one part of the conversation that Lucas especially remembered—

They'd been sitting on the porch reading books during a mild spring rainstorm when Lucas had brought up the subject of the medals that Bridger had earned.

"So, do the Navy Crosses mean that you're a hero?"

Bridger had glanced up at him from over his glasses and then just returned his gaze to his book. "Do you want to know my definition of a hero, Lucas?" he said calmly. The boy had nodded. "A hero is just a person who isn't smart enough or lucky enough to stay away from trouble and has run out of options."

Lucas knew that there had to be a lot more to the awards than that but he'd decided not to push it at that time... he'd find out more about Bridger's medals somewhere along the way.

Bridger started down the steps to the parking lot, smartly returning the salutes of some military members coming into the building. When they'd arrived this morning the Captain had commented that the most precious thing in the Pentagon was a parking space. With all the parking lots around the building that was hard to imagine but they'd circled quite a while before finding an open space. They'd even gotten pretty darned lucky and the space wasn't too far from the door.

Bridger glanced back at him. "Are you coming or would you rather go back and get lost in the hallways again?"

"I really don't know how you find your way around this place, sir," said Lucas, catching up with the Captain.

"It's a reflection of my earlier misspent years," Bridger grinned at him. "I did three tours here and let me tell you... it was about two tours too many." As they each went to their car door he looked at Lucas over the roof. "By the way, I don't think I told you what a terrific job you did in there." A beaming smile split Lucas' face. "You managed to get some pretty complicated stuff down into little kindergarten words so everyone could understand them. That's quite a talent."

Lucas sat down on his side of the car. "Thanks, I tried to pretend like I was talking to a child so they could understand. After that first brief I saw some eyes glazing over and I figured I better bring the level down some."

Bridger leaned back across the seat to put his hat on the back seat. "Probably a good idea when you're talking to Admirals and Generals... they can be awful easy to confuse."

As they pulled out of the parking lot and waited for the traffic light to head back to their hotel Lucas looked over at Bridger again thinking how the uniform seemed to just fit him... like he was born into wearing it.

"Sir, could I ask you something?"

Nathan looked across the car. "Sure, go ahead."

"Why did you join the Navy?" Lucas was surprised when Bridger's face suddenly became serious and he turned his eyes so that he was looking out the windshield. "You don't need to tell me if you don't want to," Lucas added hastily.

Bridger looked to his left and seemed to come to a decision. "No, that's okay." He hesitated just a moment. "You have anything you need to be doing this afternoon?"

"Nah," Lucas shook his head. "Just going back to the hotel with you."

Nathan glanced over at him and nodded a little. He checked his side-view mirror and pulled out of the lane he was in and into the left turn lane. "Good, then we can go and make a little visit." His voice became softer and more quiet, "Probably something I should have done anyways."

Only a short way down the road Bridger took an exit and rounded the circle at the west side of Memorial Bridge. The short road they ended up on terminated in an impressive white marble building but Bridger turned before that into a drive marked "Parking and Tour Buses". He pulled around into the parking lot and turned off the car. "I could get a family pass to drive onto the grounds but if you don't mind I prefer to walk."

"Walking is fine with me, sir."

Bridger reached back to recover his hat from the back seat and settled it on his head as he got out of the car. They headed for the neat-looking one story visitor's center and walked through it. Lucas read the sign just outside the building.
 

WELCOME TO
ARLINGTON NATIONAL
CEMETERY
OUR NATION'S MOST SACRED SHRINE
 

PLEASE
CONDUCT YOURSELVES
WITH DIGNITY AND RESPECT
AT ALL TIMES
 

PLEASE REMEMBER
THESE ARE HALLOWED GROUNDS
 
 

Bridger looked over at him. "Ever been here before?"

"No, sir. I've never even been to DC before." Lucas found that he was speaking in a hushed voice as he stared at the sight of row upon row of white headstones. The two of them just stood for a while looking across the cemetery. Lucas hesitantly looked up at Bridger. "Sir, could we go see the changing of the guard?" Bridger silently looked at him. "I've never seen it but I've heard about it."

Nathan nodded slowly and quickly looked at his watch. "Sure, it's pretty close to where I wanted to go anyway... and if we time it right we'll probably be able to see a wreath laying at noon."

Bridger was silent as they walked up the road towards a small hill. Lucas glanced at the various headstones they passed as they walked. First one of a General who served in World War II, then right next to that a Private First Class who died in Vietnam. Death could be an amazing equalizer among the ranks. After about a five minute walk Bridger indicated a path off to the right that rose up to a small hill. Another five minute walk brought them to a flagstone path leading to a magnificent white marble amphitheater and the Tomb of the Unknowns. There were steps leading down from the amphitheater and a flat plaza at the bottom but Lucas' gaze was drawn to the large white marble tomb on the plaza engraved with the words "Here Rests In Honored Glory An American Soldier Known But To God". An impeccable looking soldier ceremonially marched in front of the tomb. Bridger led Lucas across the steps to the far side of the plaza, stopping as he passed the Tomb itself and saluting it.

Nathan looked over at Lucas who was staring at the soldier walking his path. "The soldiers are members of the Third United States Infantry, sometimes referred to as The Old Guard. They've been guarding the Tomb since 1948 although it's had a military guard since 1926."

"When did they first bury someone here?" Lucas asked quietly.

"The first unknown was buried on November 11th, 1921."

"Armistice Day."

Bridger nodded. He turned his gaze to watch the soldier on his patrol. "The uniforms they wear are called dress Army Blues and are like those worn by American soldiers in the mid to late 1800's." He glanced over at Lucas. "They've found that even these days it's difficult to find a material that will hold a crease in the hot weather that DC is subject to so the blouses are made of wool."

Lucas looked astonished. "You're kidding. It's got to be at least 80 degrees out here today."

"And I imagine a good bit warmer than that in those uniforms." Bridger watched the precise step of the guard. "They take 21 steps across that mat which is 63 feet long then they'll turn and face the Tomb for 21 seconds. Then he'll turn again and pause for 21 seconds and continue his patrol. And you'll notice that they always keep their weapon between the crowd and the Tomb... that represents their mission to protect the memorial."

"Let me guess... the steps and pauses represent a 21 gun salute."

Nathan smiled and nodded. "Yep."

The rattling of a chain as the entrance to the guard quarters was opened heralded the beginning of the changing of the guard ceremony. Lucas watched intently while the on-coming guard was inspected by the guard commander and then the two guards officially passed off their duties. The ceremony was simple yet impressive and involved a very snappy inspection of the guard's weapon as well as the guard himself. As the Captain had suspected, right after the changing of the guard a wreath laying ceremony was conducted. Lucas looked over at Bridger as he stood at attention and saluted during the playing of taps and noted the serious, almost sorrowful set of his face.

After the ceremonies had ended Bridger and Lucas walked around the Memorial Amphitheater and up a small rise. Bridger indicated where the mainmast of the Maine stood towering over the graves of many of the victims of its explosion. He walked a little way down a road and then up onto the grass between some headstones.

Nathan looked down the small hill over the rows of white headstones that could be seen trailing across the expanse of the cemetery. Lucas looked around and noted the calm, peaceful feel of the place.

"He would have liked this. Close to the Maine and it's got a really nice view."

"Who?" asked Lucas almost in a whisper.

Bridger turned towards the boy and indicated a headstone just behind him. Lucas turned to read the engraving on the small, government issue white marble stone.
 

Nathan Hale Bridger
Admiral
U.S. Navy
April 4, 1904-December 20, 1989
World War II
Korea
Vietnam

Lucas looked over at Bridger who was staring sadly at the stone. A small smile crossed his face. "My grandfather."

The stone to the right of that one caught Lucas' attention. The inscription surprised him.
 

Robert Bartlett Bridger
Commander
U.S. Navy
February 23, 1935-September 12, 1969
Vietnam

"My uncle," Bridger said to Lucas' questioning glance. "He flew F-4's off the carriers." He sighed and rubbed his hand over the top of the headstone. "He almost made it back. One mission his plane took some major hits over Hanoi but he managed to nurse it back towards the ship." Nathan shook his head. "His luck ran out about 5 miles short of the carrier when his plane crashed into the sea..." Bridger's voice got soft. "His funeral was the first one I ever remember going to."

"Was your son named after him?"

"Um hmm. Robert's inscription is on the back of Uncle Bob's."

Lucas walked around to the back of the stone and read the newer looking engraving there.
 

Robert Benning Bridger
Lieutenant Junior Grade
U.S. Navy
November 21, 1989-May 4, 2011
North Atlantic Conflict
‘Until the day of his death,
no man can be sure of his courage.'

Lucas watched as Bridger took his hat off and squatted in front of his grandfather's grave, cleaning away some wayward grass clippings that lay there. A small smile crossed Bridger's face as he ran his fingers across the inscription on the stone but Lucas noticed that the smile was accompanied by a glistening in his eyes.

"This is where I'll be buried," Nathan said softly.

"You've already got that set up?" Lucas asked in surprise.

Nathan looked up at him with the small smile still on his face. "Well, it's a lot easier to do it now than to try and come back after you're dead to do it."

Lucas made a face at him. "Yeah, I suppose so... it's just that it's so... I don't know... morbid, I guess."

Bridger stood up holding his hat in his hands. "It is," he said shortly, "...but at least I know that when I die there are instructions on what I want for my last rest and I don't have to worry that someone else is going to have to be burdened with setting it up."

Lucas came back around to the front of the stones and stood next to Bridger and just nodded his understanding.

"Take the flag for instance."

"What flag?" Lucas asked confused.

"The flag over the coffin." Lucas just looked at him. "Well, I imagine that if anything should happen to me there would be a big push to put a UEO flag over my coffin."

Lucas nodded. "Yeah, I would think so."

Bridger looked over at the boy. "I don't want that." He returned his eyes to stare at his grandfather's headstone. "When I'm buried... I want an American flag on my coffin."

"But you're in the UEO."

"I know." Bridger nodded and released a long sigh. "Lucas, I'm in the UEO because they're the biggest ballgame in town these days." He glanced over at him. "That and they own the pink slip to my boat." That elicited a small smile from Lucas.

Bridger tilted his head a little and slowly shook it. "But I wasn't brought up UEO... like you were." He fingered the UEO symbols on the collar of his shirt. "This isn't me. I didn't go to the UEO Naval Academy... I attended the United States Naval Academy." He took a deep breath and looked out over the grassy hill. "I know of at least five generations before me where Bridgers have served in the United States Navy... that makes six if you count Robert." He glanced a little to his left to what was left of the mainmast of the Maine. "It's quite an amazing country when you get down to thinking about it... there's absolutely no way that it should have survived... either during those cold days when Washington ferried his troops across the Potomac at night to attack Trenton or the days when student protests ran rampant across the country while they voiced their objections to the war in Vietnam."

He turned a little towards Lucas, his voice earnest. "Look around you, Lucas. You can't walk down a street in America where you don't hear another language besides English being spoken." He shrugged his shoulders. "Did you ever wonder how we did that? ...How did this country take a little bit from each corner of the world and meld it into a people who are at one time so different and so alike?" His face softened as he looked down the hill over the rows of gravestones. "And look at this place... whether they died in combat or of old age... every one of those stones represents a hero... and at this place they're all the same. It doesn't matter if they were black or white, catholic or hindu, male or female... they all did something that made them a hero... they all took part of their lives and dedicated it to their country." Nathan turned back towards the gravestones and gently stroked the top of his grandfather's stone.

"What was he like?" Lucas asked softly.

A sad smile crossed Bridger's face and he shrugged a little. "He was great... the kind of grandfather every kid wishes for. He taught me a lot... he taught me about duty and dedication... about standing up for what you believe in... about putting forth your best effort for a cause... and he taught me a lot about love of your country and all it stands for." He straightened and resettled his hat on his head. "Let's go sit down for a bit," he said indicating a bench under the trees a little bit away. Lucas turned towards the bench as Bridger moved to stand at the foot of the grave. After snapping off a smart salute he turned to follow Lucas.

They sat on the bench in the cool shade beneath the trees as the calm of the cemetery enveloped them. Bridger had taken his hat off again and sat leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs as he turned the hat around in his hands.

"I'm named after him obviously." He turned his face towards Lucas with a soft smile. "I think it was probably something my parents regretted the moment they did it." His eyes returned to the ground in front of them. "We were a set, the two of us. When I was five my uncle was killed and my grandfather retired from the Navy." Nathan shrugged. "I guess it runs in the family." He was quiet for just a moment. "After he retired the Admiral came to live with us... he felt at home at our house... we lived right on the coast just north of Boston... he and I would spend hours down on the dock or out in our little sailboat or getting into trouble," he said with a grin. "We were really good at getting into trouble... I learned some of my best practical jokes from him... and I learned how to sail before I learned how to ride a bike."

"Sounds neat," Lucas said softly.

"Oh, it was... it was magical." Bridger stopped and his face became serious again. "He'd tell me stories... stories of his time in the Navy and sea stories that he'd heard somewhere or another... or ones he just made up. He really did some amazing things..." Nathan stopped again as he stared at the ground lost in his memories. "He drove one of the landing crafts for Operation Overlord, the invasion of Normandy. He said he spent 10 hours ferrying soldiers up onto Omaha beach." Bridger's voice was soft and far-away. "He'd bring in a group of soldiers and drop them off... as he pulled away, he'd see them getting cut up on the beach by the machine gun fire from above... then he'd circle back around to pick up another load... and he just kept doing it until they had enough soldiers on the beach to finally be able to secure a beachhead . . ." Nathan shook his head slowly. "His stories of those soldiers were amazing... almost scary." He looked up at Lucas. "When I was a kid they sounded kind of exciting... I guess I understood a little better when I got older and saw some of that for myself."

He sat up and leaned his arm on the back of the bench while he looked over the tranquil gently rolling hills. "When I was sixteen the Admiral decided he wanted to go back. Back to Normandy. So he and I packed up that summer and headed for France." He glanced quickly towards Lucas. "If you think this is awe-inspiring you should see those cemeteries in France. They're like this... row upon row of crosses that seem to go on forever... but there they all died in one battle. On Omaha alone the Americans lost over 3,000 men." Bridger looked out over the cemetery again and his gaze became unfocused as he recalled the visit. "When the Admiral would talk about it you understood why they were willing to give their lives. He was passionate about how they fought because they believed they were fighting for a purpose and that they felt this country could help shape the world into a better place for all of mankind." He smiled a little. "The Admiral always called World War 2 the last good war." He hesitated. "But I remember seeing him leaning on the cross marking the grave of one of his shipmates and crying..." Bridger's voice was barely a whisper, "that was the first time I'd ever seen him cry."

"You were lucky to have been able to spend that time with him."

"More lucky than you can imagine, Lucas." He stopped, still looking far away and Lucas turned his gaze out to survey the tranquil rolling hills. The peace of the area seemed to calm him and time just didn't seem to matter.

After a while Bridger started to speak again, his voice wistful and calm. "The two of us were good for each other. No one really had time for either of us so we just made time for each other. We'd take lunch out with us and either anchor or just let the boat drift while he'd regale me with stories of the men and women who formed this nation... especially sea stories. I can probably give you a play by play of the battle between the Bon Homme Richard and the Seraphis or the action as Oliver Hazard Perry brought his forces against the British in the Battle of Lake Erie in the War of 1812... those were the best stories... the stories about sail and the high seas..."

Lucas looked over at the Captain. "If you remember them... and you don't mind... some day I'd like to hear some of those stories."

Bridger looked at him and after a moment smiled. "I'd like to tell them to you. Stories are always best when they're shared." He looked away for a moment and then looked back at Lucas again. "You've really never been to D.C. before?"

Lucas shook his head. "Nope... one of those things I missed as a kid I guess."

Bridger's smile was soft and gentle. "Lucas, it's really not a thing that should be missed." He looked away over the trees. "There's a whole lot of history in this town. A lot that has to do with the great people who helped make this country and a lot of memorials for those who sacrificed to keep it free." He paused a moment and his voice was sadder. "There are way too many memorials for those who fought... or actually for the actions they fought in." He sighed. "Although I suppose in more than 200 years of history you've got to expect some wars." Bridger looked back at Lucas and patted him on the knee as he stood up. "Lucas, you need to see this town. How about if you and I go back to the hotel and change and then we see what we can do about improving your knowledge of Washington and the District of Columbia?"

Lucas stood and fell into step beside the Captain. "I think I'd like that."

"We can start at the Navy Memorial and just work our way into the Mall from there. That should keep us busy for the rest of the day."

"Can we cover it all in one day?"

Bridger stopped and looked at Lucas. The boy was smiling in his eagerness to explore the town. "Tell you what... if we don't cover enough today, why don't we stay tomorrow and go see some more?"

"Won't they get upset with us if we take an extra day?"

Nathan put his arm over Lucas' shoulder as they started walking again. "The hell with them, Lucas. You and I deserve a day of vacation."