Epilogue

It was a cold, clear, crisp winter day on the gentle brown banks above the Potomac. The sun helped the cold crowd, but no one was comfortable in spite of the sun's valiant efforts. The setting served as a beautiful backdrop for the somber duty attended by hundreds of bundled folks. Politicians were fronted by the president, a former subordinate. Senators from over a dozen states and Congressmen from five score districts across America stood behind the family. The generals of the US Army, active and retired, formed a blue and gold clad detail behind the politicians. Completing the square were old comrades, those who had worn blue and tan in days not a decade earlier and blue, gray and butternut over thirty years ago.

When the clergy - an active duty US Army chaplain - full colonel, and an elderly civilian preacher - concluded the service an assigned bugler in the active military unit assigned to burial detail began the tribute.

Taps "Day is done, gone the sun. . . .

All is well, safely rest God is nigh. . . ."

As the first few notes of "Butterfield's Lullaby" rose above the congregation of blood, memory and honor, another sound resonated from up towards the Curtis-Lee mansion. It was another bugle, far off, joining in the mystical call that signaled the horse soldiers advance.

Solon's tears began hot but chilled as they covered his cheeks. Bowing his head, he smiled down on the simple army issue casket when he recognized the strain of a duet. He thought, "Alex and Joe have done it. The general would be much obliged."