Image by Ryan McGuire from Pixabay
While a dozen conversations were going on elsewhere, Lt. G.H. Truss came to himself realizing that it had been a good while since he had been aware of anything but the presence of Capt. R.E. Ludlow.
The lieutenant had practiced with the recording of the captain singing Commendatore to his Don Giovanni for weeks, and he had been impressed.
“Where have they been hiding this younger version of Boris Chaliapin?” he had asked Capt. F.D. Maynor, the producer of the scenes from Don Giovanni.
From that he had gotten to know a little bit of the captain's story: the captain had the choice between a career with the United States Army Chorus or the “regular” command track, and had chosen the command track. Temperamentally, this had been the best decision … the man who would get the nickname “Hell to Pay” Ludlow needed a bit more structure and outlet for aggression than the chorus provided.
“It makes sense in retrospect,” Capt. Maynor had said to Lt. Truss about it.
Lt. Truss had heard a little more, of course … about how the captain had left his career that he loved to care for his orphaned grandchildren, and how that had led back to singing for him, with them … and about how that hard-driving and mighty man had found motivation in both his second marriage and his grandchildren to do his therapy and get serious about his Christian faith.
Lt.Truss, on one day in Fruitland Memorial Park, had even heard Capt. Ludlow from half a mile's distance with his grandsons.
“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY, LUDLOWS!”
And then, much fainter but still audible, his little progeny, both of whom would someday have a voice similar to his...
“HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEY, LUDLOWS!”
This had troubled the heart of Lt. Truss, more than he had expected … the idea of running into a grandfather like his grandfather, who had raised him, was difficult... his grandfather had lived to know of the beginning of his grandson's brilliant military record, but knew nothing of the things of which he would be ashamed in the lieutenant's personal life.
“He was the only person I ever answered to, who ever loved me, so, it doesn't matter,” the lieutenant had told himself, many times. “Where he is, they're not spoiling it, talking about me.”
Not until meeting and working remotely with Capt. Ludlow had the thought become unsettled in the lieutenant's mind... and he had dreaded at last meeting the captain in person … shame and guilt that he had thought he had put away from him was surging upward.
But then, Capt. Ludlow had opened conversation with him, and things had not gone the way the lieutenant had expected … they had gotten around to the Truss grandfather's barn animals and the captain was largely listening because “I am a city-fied blue-blood and wish I had opportunity to know all these details about cows growing up – do tell about the pastoral genius of your grandfather.”
It was as if one could actually talk to God – the speaking voice of Capt. Ludlow was just that awesome – and maybe God would listen to you and not condemn you instantly, but might even take the time to understand your situation.