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the transmission of the audio portion of the Medal of Freedom award ceremony
that included the President s speech and Stacey
Urkut s acceptance. The Captain was anxious for the crew to hear it, and he
was anxious to hear it himself. They had all been deeply saddened by the death
of President Weisskopf. For folks like him, in addition to his Commander in
Chief and the ultimate command authority, the President had assumed almost a
father-like role and had represented a paternal influence in his life& for much
of his crew, the
President s role had been more reminiscent of that of a grandfather.
The President had not only embodied good leadership, as an individual
deserving of great respect. He had also become someone they would all die for,
or for whom they would go to the ends of the earth.
This crew had done just that, by unquestioningly obeying his orders because of
the trust and faith they all had in him. Somehow, for them and for most
personnel in America s armed services, during the course of the war their
loyalty to the President had gone beyond just the constitutional prerogative
to obey his orders. It was something much more personal than that. It involved
a personal loyalty to a man deserving of such.
But he was gone and now they had a new President. Every one of them looked
forward to hearing directly from him as their new Commander in Chief. Every
one of them, either consciously or in their sub-conscious, was waiting to see
if John Bowers would prove worthy of wearing his predecessor s mantle.
Somehow, deep inside, they all knew that they needed such a leader for the
rough road ahead.
As Commander Sheffield stood next to him there in the control room, Captain
Thompson took the handset, clicked the transmit lever, and spoke to the crew.
All hands, this is the Captain.
Listen up. We have just received the audio from the event back in Washington
that concluded three hours ago. It is of our new CINC, President John Bowers,
and his presentation speech at that Medal of
Freedom ceremony. It is also the acceptance speech of Stacey Urkut.
We re going to play it now. It will last about ten minutes and I ask everyone
whose duties will allow it to listen carefully, and consider the message and
words of our new President.
Those whose duties prevent them from listening now, and other crew members
who would like to listen to the message again later, can listen to the
recording at any time from the ship s files. Just see the XO or your section
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chief to arrange it.
After the conclusion of the presentation, I will make a few comments about
what was said and then talk about the orders we have just received for our
next mission.
Here s the President of the United States&
Over the ship s intercom system, the President s words began.
My fellow Americans, we are gathered here this morning and afternoon to honor
one of our own. Last week&
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June 14, 2009, 05:23
High Mountain Meadow off of Deep Creek
Near Ibapah, Utah
Ever so slowly, the surreal light was giving way to shades of gray, that would
in turn give way in the east to more golden colors preceding the dawn.
Slim loved this time of morning as he watched the horses up here in the high
meadow on the upper reaches of Elk Creek (pronounced Elk Crick in these
parts), surrounded by granite sentinels. They called the place he was camped
in Sentinel Bowl, and it was one of his favorite places to tend horses in the
late spring and early summer on the far western border of Utah, only a few
miles from the Nevada line.
It was remote country, the closest town being the small town of Ibapah about
fifteen miles to his north and west, population less than one hundred. To
stumble upon any real civilization, you had to go five divides over and one
hundred and fifty miles to the northeast, to the suburbs of Salt Lake City.
And I reckon that s just about far enough& maybe not even far enough, thought
Slim as he considered a place, the Salt Lake Valley, where something on the
order of a million people lived.
Slim seldom, if ever, approached any such place. He d been a cowboy for all of
his life. He knew nothing different. He wanted nothing different. He pretty
much enjoyed just being left alone to tend the animals and to
associate& occasionally& with his other cowboy friends in a good game of poker,
or a good meal of steak and potatoes.
There was those around him who said that life had passed him by& that he ought
to get a little more into the modern era. But he had freely chosen the life he
lived& the one he loved, and he did not regret it one iota. His wife was long
since dead. His two kids visited him on occasion and he even got to hold the
grandkids when they came by. But leave the life he loved? Not a chance.
Besides, he was still good at it& always had been. If you needed some horses
tended or broken, or cattle herded& if you needed fences mended or built, or if
you needed a corral, Slim was your man.
When it came to livestock, he could tend em, and he could mend em. All over
western Utah and eastern Nevada, from Elko and Ely down to Cedar City, Slim
was known as a hardworking, totally reliable hand who liked nothing more than
to work outdoors and keep to himself.
At sixty-eight, though his face was weathered, he had the physique, the lung
capacity and the stamina of most modern men who hadn t cracked fifty yet, so
he figured that he was doing okay.
This morning he was tending McCalvery s horses, and would be watching them all
summer. He loved the Sentinel Bowl because it was high and it was remote& the
air was clear, and here in the late spring the wind still blew cold and
invigorating& and you had a view that was sketched by God s own hand.
Down below, the Deep Creek valley seemed to be swimming in the surreal light
of a full moon that itself had not yet set. Hundreds of cattle were being
tended down there by younger cowboys and, throughout the night, Slim would
hear the night-herd song being sung by them as they lulled the cattle and kept
them from getting restless. Slim loved that sound carried up here to him on
the wind. It took him back to his own younger days and the times he d spent
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with other young cowboys those many years ago.
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Slim didn t think too much about world events, but he and the other cowboys
could not help but be impacted somewhat by them. Most of the really young
cowboys, those younger than thirty, were off fighting. You couldn t help but
miss them.
Several of the others were enlisted in the local Home Guard Unit and took time
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