The caption under the picture read, "1st Lt. James Biden (left), Ithaca, N.Y., and WOJG J.A. Castillo, San Antonio, Tex., of the 322nd Aviation Company shown by their HU-1D helicopter, one of eight which will participate in a three-week-long joint training exercise with troopers of the Blackhorse."
"It's a lousy photo," Lustrous said. "But he looks like he's fifteen years old."
"I noticed that, sir," Dieter said.
"Well, you found him," Lustrous said. "Good for you."
"You better hold off on that, sir," Dieter said. "That's not all I found."
He picked up the book bound in maroon artificial leather and handed it to Lustrous.
Lustrous looked at the title.
"The Medal of Honor?" he asked, curiously.
Dieter nodded.
"I stuck a piece of paper in it, sir," he said.
Lustrous found the slip of paper and opened the book to that page.
"Jesus H. Christ!" he said when he found himself looking at another photograph of Warrant Officer Jorge Alejandro Castillo, this one, he guessed, taken when Castillo had graduated from flight school. Castillo also looked like he was fifteen years old.
"I don't think there's too many guys who flew Hueys with a name like that," Dieter said. "I think that's your guy, Colonel."
Colonel Lustrous started to read the citation: " 'On 4 and 5 April 1971, while flying HU-1D helicopters in support of Operation Lam Son 719 He stopped and looked at Dieter. "April '71? We were out of Vietnam by then."
"Not the aviators," Dieter said. "Air Force and Army. We left a bunch of them-plus some heavy artillery-behind to support the South Vietnamese. I looked Operation Lam Son 719 up."
"And?"
"The South Vietnamese went into Laos to cut the Ho Chi Minh Trail," Dieter said. "They got clobbered. And so did our choppers. We lost more than a hundred, and five times that many were shot up."
Lustrous dropped his eyes to the book again and continued: " ': time and again, Warrant Officer Castillo flew his aircraft into extremely heavy fire to rescue the crews of downed American helicopters. In the process he was twice shot down himself, and suffered painful wounds, contusions and burns, for which he refused medical treatment, as a result thereof. Warrant Officer Castillo was on his fifty-second rescue mission, in the fifth helicopter he operated during this period, when his aircraft was struck by heavy antiaircraft fire and exploded:' "
Lustrous looked at Dieter and repeated, " Fifty-second rescue mission?"
"That's what it says, sir. We lost, I told you, more than a hundred choppers. They mean destroyed, by that; it doesn't count the ones that got shot down. They really kicked our ass. A lot of chopper crews had to be either picked up or the VC would have gotten them."
"Well, it says he was given the medal posthumously," Lustrous said. "So it doesn't look as if he will be able to assume his parental obligations, does it?"
"He's buried in the Fort Sam Houston National Cemetery, sir," Dieter said. "They didn't get his body back right away."
"Sonofabitch," Lustrous said. "I didn't expect this."
"We don't know for sure it's our guy, sir. For sure, I mean."
"Oh, come on, Dieter!"
"You don't think it's possible, sir, that Frau Whatsername knew about this all along?"
"No, I don't," Lustrous said automatically, but then added, "Why would she do something like that?"
"Desperate women, shit, desperate people, do desperate things, Colonel. Things that don't make a lot of sense."
"I hate to agree with you, but I do," Lustrous said. "This situation has just become something that cannot be dealt with by someone of my pay grade."
"What are you going to do, sir?"
"I'm going to try to get General Towson to find a few minutes in his schedule for me," Lustrous said. "Try to get him on the horn, Sergeant Major."
"Yes, sir," Sergeant Major Dieter said and picked up one of the telephones on Lustrous's desk-there were two: one a local, commercial telephone, and the other connected to the Army network-and dialed a number from memory.
"Hey, Tony," he said after a moment. "Rupert Dieter. How they hanging, Fat Guy?"
There was a pause.
"Tony, my boss wants to speak to your boss. Possible?"
There was another pause and then Dieter said, "Thanks, Tony," and handed the phone to Colonel Lustrous. "The V Corps Commander will be with you shortly, sir," he said.
"Thanks," Lustrous said.
He had to wait fifteen seconds before Lieutenant General Robert B. Towson, Commanding General, V United States Corps, came on the line.
"Towson."
"Good morning, General. Lustrous."
"What can I do for you, Fred?"
"Sir, I need about ten minutes of your time and some guidance. If there's a chopper available, I'd appreciate a ride. If not, I'll drive."
"Obviously, you don't want to talk about this on the phone."
"I'd rather not, sir."
"Personal matter, Fred?"
"No, sir. There's a personal element. I was just thinking: For the good of the service."
"Okay. You and I are on for lunch. A chopper will be there in thirty minutes. And you don't even have to change out of those oil-stained fatigues and illegal boots. Okay?"
"Thank you very much, General."
General Towson hung up without saying anything else.
"Okay," Lustrous said. "There will be a chopper here in thirty minutes. You, me, and Major Naylor. Locate Colonel Stevens and tell him I said I want him to come here and mind the store."
Lieutenant Colonel Charles D. Stevens was the executive officer of the Blackhorse.
"Yes, sir," Sergeant Major Dieter said.
[FOUR]
Office of the Commanding General
V Corps
The I.G. Farben Building
Frankfurt am Main, West Germany
1035 7 March 1981
"Sir, Colonel Lustrous is here," Sergeant Major Anthony J. Sanguenetti, a large, dark, almost entirely bald forty-five-year-old, said into the intercom on his desk.
"Is he alone?"
"No, sir, he has Major Naylor and a really ugly sergeant major with him."
"All of you come in, and tell Lownsdale no calls until I say so."
"Yes, sir," Sanguenetti said and looked up at Lustrous. "Sir, the Corps commander will see you, Major Naylor, and Ol' Whatsisname over there now."
Sergeant Major Dieter gave Sergeant Major Sanguenetti the finger as he walked past him to enter General Towson's office.
Lustrous, Naylor, and Dieter saluted crisply. Towson returned it with an almost casual wave of the hand.
"When Tony said ugly,' " he said, rising from his chair to offer his hand to Sergeant Major Dieter, "I knew it had to be you. How are you, Rupert? Too long a time no see."
"It's good to see you, too, sir."
"You look skinny," General Towson said. "He been overworking you?"
"Yes, sir. He has."
"So I guess you know what this is all about?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then you should, too, Tony," General Towson said. "Close the door."
Towson waited until the door was closed, then looked at Lustrous.
"One sentence, Fred," he said. "For the good of the service?"
"Sir, I think it's very probable that just before he went to Vietnam, where he earned a posthumous Medal of Honor, a young warrant officer impregnated a German girl to whom he was not married."
Towson looked at him for a long moment.
"That's one hell of a one-sentence summary, Fred," he said. "I was expecting to hear something like 'hanky-panky in dependent housing.' "
Lustrous didn't reply.
"You're sure of your facts?" Towson asked.
"No, sir, but I'd bet ten-to-one on what we think."
"Why did this come up now? The mother just found out the guy was a hero?"
"No, sir. The mother just found out she's dying-pancreatic cancer-and there is no other family here to take care of the boy, who is now twelve."
"Why do you think she's telling the truth?"
"I was a friend of her father's, sir. And she is not after money."
"How do you know that?"
"Because she has more than she needs. She's Frau Erika von und zu Gossinger, General. There's a brewery, three newspapers, and other properties."
"Related to the guy who wiped himself out on the autobahn?"
"That was her father, sir, and her brother."
"And how did this come to your attention?"
"She told Netty, General. Yesterday at lunch. I think she's telling the truth, sir."
"She probably is, but we can't take any chances," General Towson said. "Tony, get on the horn to Saint Louis, tell them to fax us: what's this fellow's name?"
"Warrant Officer Junior Grade Jorge Alejandro Castillo, sir," Sergeant Major Dieter furnished.
": Mr. Castillo's service record, and any other information they have about him right now, and to follow that up with Xeroxes of same sent by the most expeditious means. If they say they can't do it today, you tell them I said if they said they can't I'm going to route my request through the chief of staff. If they ask why, you don't know. Got it?" Yes, sir.
"Do that right now," Towson said. "Rupert can bring you up to speed about what we talk about now."
"Yes, sir," Sergeant Major Sanguenetti said and looked at Sergeant Major Dieter, who was writing Mr. Castillo's full name on a sheet of paper. When Dieter handed it to him, Sanguenetti left the office.
Towson looked at Lustrous.
"Getting records out of Saint Louis is like pulling teeth," he said. "I actually had to go to the chief of staff a couple of weeks ago. I hope they remember that." He paused thoughtfully and then went on. "Okay. Let's say you're right, Fred: and if Netty believes this woman, you probably are. Where do we go from here?"
Colonel Lustrous had served under General Towson twice and correctly suspected here that sentence was rhetorical and Towson did not expect an answer.
"If Mr. Castillo was married," Towson went on, "that's one situation. Death benefits and possibly a pension would have gone to his widow, benefits to which this German boy may be entitled. I'll have a talk with the judge advocate and get the details. If he wasn't married, that's another situation. Okay. We don't know enough now to make any kind of a decision. The only thing I can think of right now is to get a blood sample. A little coldheartedly, if there's a match it won't prove anything. If there's not, it would prove there was no parental relationship. So the only thing I can tell you to do, Fred, is to get a sample, a large sample, of the boy's blood, and make sure we can testify we were there when the sample was taken and that the blood never left our custody."
"Yes, sir," Lustrous said and looked at Major Naylor, who said, "Yes, sir."
"What did he do to get the Medal of Honor?" Towson asked.
"Sir, are you familiar with Operation Lam Son 719?"
Towson searched his memory, then nodded.
"Mr. Castillo was on his fifty-second rescue mission, picking up downed chopper crews, when he was hit and his Huey blew up."
"I know that story," Towson said. "He kicked his copilot and crew chief out of his bird, told them there was no sense all of them getting killed. That young man really had a large set of balls." He heard what he had said and added: "An unfortunate choice of words, right? I have an unfortunate tendency to do that."
[FIVE]
Headquarters
Eleventh Armored Cavalry Regiment
Downs Barracks
Fulda, Hesse, West Germany
1640 7 March 1981
"Sir, I have Frau von Gossinger on the line," Sergeant Major Dieter called from the outer office.
"That's Von und zu,' Dieter," Lustrous said, gestured for Major Naylor to pick up the extension on the conference table, and then picked up the telephone on his desk.
"Fred Lustrous here, Frau Erika," Lustrous said.
"Good afternoon, Colonel."
"There have been some developments in this situation," Lustrous said. "I'd really like to discuss them with you in person rather than over the telephone. Would that be possible?"
"Of course."
"When would that be convenient for you?"
"Whenever it is for you," she said. "Now, if you'd like."
"I thought I would bring Netty with me," Lustrous said, "and Elaine Naylor, and her husband, Major Naylor, who's going to help us with this."
"Of course."
"It will take me, say, thirty minutes to go home, pick up the ladies, and change out of my work uniform, and then forty-five minutes or so to drive up there. That would make it a little after six-thirty. Would that be all right?"
"That would be fine, Colonel. And there is no necessity for you to change uniforms. And if you have the time, please take supper with us."
"That's very kind," Lustrous said. "But I don't want to impose."
"Don't be silly. It is I who is imposing on your friendship with my father. I will expect you sometime before seven. And thank you."
There was a click as the line went dead.
Lustrous looked at Naylor.
"She said 'supper with us,' Colonel," Naylor said.
"Yeah, I heard," Lustrous said. Then he raised his voice: "Rupert!"
Sergeant Major Dieter put his head in the doorway.
"I heard," he said. "You want me to drive you?"
"No, I think we'll go in the Mercedes," Lustrous said. "Will you make sure Colonel Stevens knows he's minding the store?"
"Yes, sir," Dieter said. "Sir, if you want I can give the ladies a heads-up."
"Good idea. Thank you. Lie. Tell them we're already on the way. I'll bring you up to speed first thing in the morning."
"Sir, your call. Since I couldn't make lunch with Baker Troop today, I thought I might make breakfast tomorrow."
"Do it," Lustrous ordered. "I'll see you when you get here."
[SIX]
Haus im Wald
Near Bad Hersfeld
Kreis Hersfeld-Rotenburg
Hesse, West Germany
1845 7 March 1981
The first time Major Allan B. Naylor, Armor, saw Carlos Guillermo Castillo, he was standing beside his mother on the flagstone steps of das Haus im Wald as they drove up in Lustrous's Mercedes. The boy was wearing a nearly black suit with a white shirt and tie and his blond hair was neatly combed.
The Naylor's had two sons, a fourteen-year-old and a ten-year-old, and the first thing Allan Naylor thought was, There's not much fun in that kid's life.
That was closely followed by, Shit, and now this!
Colonel Lustrous had taken Frau Erika von und zu Gossinger at her word. He and Naylor were still wearing fatigues. Their wives were more formally dressed.
Mother and son waited on the steps for the Lustrouses and the Naylor's to get out of the Mercedes and walk up to them.
"How good it is to see you again, Colonel Lustrous," Frau Erika said, offering her hand. "Welcome."
"Thank you," Lustrous said. "May I introduce my good friend, Major Allan Naylor?"
"Of course, Elaine's husband. How do you, Major?"
Netty walked up to Frau Erika and kissed her on the cheek and then Elaine did.
"And this is my son," Frau Erika said. "Karl Wilhelm."
The boy put out his hand first to Netty, then Elaine, then Lustrous, and finally Naylor, and each time said, in English, "How do you do? I am pleased to meet you."
His English, while obviously not the American variety, was accentless, neither the nasal British variety taught by English teachers at Saint Johan's-which Allan B. Naylor III had brought home and earned him the nickname "Lord Fauntleroy"-or the to be expected German-accented English of a young German boy.
"My boy goes to Saint Johan's," Elaine said. "Allan? Do you know him?"
"He is two forms before me: ahead of me," Karl Wilhelm von und zu Gossinger said. "I know who he is."
"Why don't we go in the house and have a cocktail?" Frau Erika said.
A maid in a white apron stood behind a bar set up on a table in the library. There were bottles of Gossingerbrau in dark bottles with ceramic and rubber stoppers, bottles of German and French white and red wine, French and German champagne, bourbon and scotch whiskey, gin, cognac, and an array of glasses to properly serve any of it.
Lustrous, Netty, and Allan Naylor asked for scotch; Elaine Naylor said she thought she would have a glass of Rumpoldskirchener, and Frau Erika poured a snifter heavily with cognac.
"Welcome, friends, all of you, to our home," Frau Erika said, raising her glass. "What is it you taught my father to say, Oberst Lustrous? 'Mud in your eye'? Mud in your eye!"
She took, everyone noticed, a healthy pull of her cognac.
"I don't know what that means," Karl Wilhelm von und zu Gossinger said.
"Either do I, come to think of it, Karl," Lustrous said. "Is it all right if I call you Karl?"
"Yes, sir. Of course," the boy said.
"Would you mind, Karl, if we had a private word with your mother?" Lustrous said.
"Of course not, sir."
"Frau Erika?" Lustrous said.
"Of course," she said. "Karl, would you go into Grosspappa's office for a moment?"
Karl didn't like it all, but he nodded curtly and walked to the far end of the library. Lustrous saw there was an office of some kind in an adjoining room. There was a desk, a typewriter, a leather armchair, and several tables in a small room lined with bookcases.
"When my father was angry about something," Frau Erika said, "he used to go there to write the editorial. He said it was very difficult to stay angry in there."
"Then I have to presume most of the editorials I read were not written here," Lustrous said.
Frau Erika smiled at him.
"He also used to say losing your temper had to be a sin; it was so pleasurable," she said.
Lustrous smiled and turned to Netty.
"Can I have that, please, honey?" he asked.
Netty dug in her purse and came up with a plasticized Xerox copy of the newspaper photograph. Spec5 Sam Rowe, Sergeant Major Dieter's jack-of-all-trades, had spent several hours doing the best he could.
Netty handed it to her husband, who wordlessly handed it to Frau Erika.
She looked at it carefully and then at Lustrous.
"Yes, that's him. It must have been taken at the time. My God, he was so young! Only nineteen!"
"I'm afraid I have to tell you that he was killed in Vietnam," Lustrous said.
Erika met his eyes for a moment, then nodded.
"Somehow I knew that," she said. "He said: he said that I would probably not hear from him much, he wasn't much at writing letters. But that as soon as he came home from the war, he would come back. I was very young. I believed him. Even when there were no letters at all. It's easy to believe when you are young."
"For what it's worth, he died a hero," Lustrous said.
"It doesn't mean anything to me but it will to Karl," Erika said and raised her voice. " Karl, kumst du hier, bitte!"
She sounded almost gay. Lustrous saw the cognac snifter was just about empty and then looked at Netty and saw the pain in her eyes.
The boy came back from the small office.
"Yes, Mother?"
"Oberst Lustrous has brought a photograph, from a newspaper, of your father," Erika said.
The boy said nothing. Erika handed him the plastic-covered clipping.
He looked at it and then at his mother.
"He never came back to us, Karl, because he was killed in the war," Erika said.
"Your father was quite a hero, Karl," Lustrous said.
"Mother said he is dead," the boy said.
"He was killed while trying to rescue other helicopter pilots," Naylor said.
"So how, if I may ask, will that affect things?" the boy asked.
"Excuse me?" Lustrous said.
"If he is dead, I cannot go to him, can I?"
Naylor thought: That means, of course, he knows about his mother. His reaction is coldblooded; to learning that his father is dead and that he now will have no family at all.
"Karl," Netty said softly, "we've asked for his records; they will be sent here shortly. I can't promise this, but it's possible, even likely, that your father had a family:"
"And I would go to them? No. I will not. Pastor Dannberg says I can stay at Saint Johan's:"
"But if there is a family," Netty said, "they would love you:"
"Why would they love me? Mother says they don't know I exist."
That's true, Naylor thought. And the boy senses, or has figured out, that it would be one hell of a transition, from das Haus im Wald to Texas, even if he doesn't understand that with a name like Castillo it's highly probable that his life in Texas would be that of a Tex-Mex, and that's not at all like that of an upper-class German.
Naylor had developed his own theory of how nineteen-year-old Jorge Alejandro Castillo had wound up flying a Huey first in Germany and then in Vietnam.
There were two reasons seventeen- and eighteen-year-old young men had gone into the Army during the Vietnam War. It seldom had anything to do with patriotic notions of rushing to the colors, but rather with their economic situation and the draft. If there was no money to go to college, and get an educational deferment, the draft was damned near inevitable.
Jorge Alejandro Castillo had been bright enough to get into the Warrant Officer Candidate Program, which meant that he was certainly bright enough to get into college. That he had not gone suggested strongly that there hadn't been money for college. Naylor knew that Army recruiters had regularly trolled high schools for seniors about to graduate, and, specifically, for those who couldn't afford college. Their sales pitch was that if the kids enlisted now, rather than waiting for the inevitable draft, they would be "guaranteed" their choice of specialty, which almost invariably meant being trained in electronics or automobile mechanics, which also meant they wouldn't be handed a rifle and told to go kill people.
The offer was valid. The training was given as promised. The price was a three-year enlistment. Draftees had to serve two years. The Army got another year of service, during which the kid got the five to eight months of specialist training promised and he then could serve for two years in his specialty. On the kid's side, he got the training, and, if he didn't screw up in training, he didn't go to the infantry.
What happened when the kid got to the reception center was that he was given the Army General Classification Test, which was sort of a combined aptitude and intelligence test. The average GI scored between 90 and 100. Scores of 110 or better qualified the new soldier for such things as Officer Candidate School and the longer, more technical specialist courses. When a kid turned in a score of 120 or better, he came to the attention of a lot of people who needed really bright young men. Such as helicopter pilots.
Putting this all together, Naylor had reasoned that Jorge Alejandro Castillo had joined the Army to be trained as an electronics repairman, or some such, and to be kept out of the infantry. He had scored really high on the AGCT and been recruited for the Warrant Officer Candidate Program. It wasn't hard to get a kid to agree to swap his promised training as a radio fixer for training as a pilot, and the flight pay and status of a warrant officer that went with it.
Naylor remembered a sign he had seen in an Officers' Club Annex at Fort Rucker, the Army Aviation Center in Alabama. It had read: