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"Then this
one officer came screeching up like Kojac. He piles out
of his car all red in the face, demanding to know what the
hell was going on. He was a big fellow. I calmly explained
that we were The Last Patrol and that we were on our way
to march in the parade. 'Where's your parade permit?' he
growls belligerently. I replied that we weren't in the parade
yet... that we were on our way to it... that we walk everywhere
we go. I also politely asked him to use a more respectful
tone. There was no call for him to be so angry.
"But that
just made him madder. 'Who's in charge of this damned outfit?'
he bellowed. I had a feeling he wanted to take somebody
to jail. I looked at Holiday, who looked the other way and
whistled 'Dixie' or something. 'Who is in charge?'
yells The Red Faced Cop a little louder. From somewhere
in the column comes a voice saying, 'I am!' And then another
voice, 'I am!' And another, 'I am!' And so on... all through
the column. Then someone calls out, 'I'm Sparticus!' Then
another, 'I'm Sparticus!' And that ripples through the ranks
for a bit. Then a few more, 'I ams!' Practically everyone
except me and Holiday had claimed to be in charge. By this
time, The Red Faced Cop is crimson! Once more he screams,
'Who's in charge?'
'WE
ARE!!!!!' came the answer. All the voices. In unison.
One voice. Very, very loud. That blew his mind. The other
cops sort of gathered him up and ushered him to his car.
And our little army continued on its merry way. Yep. It
really did happen."
Being a
hard act to follow, The Last Patrol marched at the end of
the parade. As they walked through prolonged cheers, they
spotted fellow vets and invited, rather insisted, that they
fall in. The ranks began to swell. Mrs. Garcia, the mother
of the MIA, stood at the side of the street as they came
by. Martin, Holiday and Beavers stepped out of the column
to embrace her. As they fell back in they looked behind
them and saw scores of "Walkin' Men" lining up to do the
same.
In the last
few blocks their friends and families began to join them...
wives, children, mothers, fathers... a column six blocks
long walking behind the banner, "A Journey to Remember-The
Last Patrol". And they were walking mighty tall and
proud.
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