Chapter 6 - THE PARADE DECKAt precisely 1350 hours, the double doors of the headquarters building swung open.
I stepped out onto the wide stone landing wearing my complete, immaculate Marine Corps dress blue uniform. The midnight-blue coat, the scarlet trousers, the pristine white belt, and the gleaming gold stars on my shoulder boards caught the bright afternoon sunlight, flashing brilliantly across the parade ground.
Behind me walked Captain Vance, followed by my brother Glenn, who looked like he was walking to his own execution in his civilian suit.
Across the massive parade deck, three thousand Marines stood in flawless, immaculate formation, their rifles held at present arms, the brass instruments of the Marine Corps band gleaming in the distance.
As soon as my boots hit the top step of the reviewing stand, the senior battalion commander's voice rang out across the entire installation with crystal clarity:
"Battalion! Attention! Present... ARMS!"
Three thousand rifles snapped upward in unison with a thunderous, metallic crack that shook the ground beneath our feet.
The band struck up the opening bars of Ruffles and Flourishes, followed immediately by the booming, triumphant chords of The Generals March.
May you like
Glenn stood at the edge of the reviewing platform, clutching the stone railing with both hands, his knuckles white. The sheer, overwhelming scale of the military power assembled before him—men and women trained to fight, ready to die, all standing at absolute attention for the woman he had spent his life treating like an administrative assistant—finally broke through his denial.
A single tear rolled down Glenn’s cheek, catching the sunlight before he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand.
