A blast of arctic air blew sleet down Ellen’s neck. She grabbed the lapels of her thin cloth coat and pulled her collar tighter as a shiver ran down her spine. The wintry sun almost touched the hills north of town and the temperature was dropping fast.

The young woman sharing the bus stop bench with her scooted over closer and put an arm around her waist. “Where the hell are they anyway? They were supposed to be here an hour ago.”

Ellen shook her head. “Oh, Sandi, you know Jimmy. He’s never been on time for anything. Why start today?” 

Her companion nodded. “Yeah, that’s Jimmy, all right.” She hugged the older woman tighter.

A pair of headlights came into view. From the labored whine of the engine Ellen could tell it was a big vehicle. Now she could see the outline. Not a bus. A truck. A big truck.

She watched it ease down the ridge near the Ford dealership, then strain to make it up the knoll near the high school field. As she gazed, her thoughts turned to the many hours she had spent sitting on bleacher seats at the old stadium, watching her son playing baseball. Now it seemed a lifetime ago, cheering him on like the game really meant something in the end. A tear trickled down her cheek. It really was a lifetime ago.

The two women stood up and waited as the vehicle came closer. As it pulled up in front of them and came to a halt with a squeal of brakes, Ellen read the white letters printed on the passenger door, “U. S. Army.” She promised herself once again she would get through this. She would not break down. He wouldn’t have wanted that.

As soon as the truck stopped, eight soldiers jumped down from the canvas-covered bed. They threw off the heavy winter coats they wore, tossed them in the back of the truck, and stood at attention in dress blue uniforms. A lieutenant climbed down from the passenger’s seat, a small package in hand, and approached the women. Throwing them a precise salute, he asked in a quiet voice, “Mrs. Donnelly?” 

As one, both women responded, “Yes.” Looking at one another they held each other for support.

The lieutenant stepped forward and shook hands with each woman. “I’m Lieutenant Brown. I apologize for the delay,” he said. “The other vehicle couldn’t handle the slick roads. We finally had to transfer to this old thing.” He indicated the massive supply truck. “Slow but reliable.”

He paused for a second and spoke to Ellen. “Is everything ready?” At her nod, he stood at attention again, his face a mask devoid of expression. Hands at his hips, he snapped the fingers of his left hand.

The soldiers lined up behind the truck in two rows of four. Not a word was spoken as they gently eased the long steel box down from the bed of the truck and held it while the lieutenant covered it with the flag he held. At a nod from him, they began a slow march toward the funeral parlor across the street, where the town waited for their fallen hero.

Stepping forward, the younger woman spoke. “Just a minute.”

The pallbearers stopped and waited, holding the heavy coffin with ease.

Ellen cocked her head as she looked at her daughter-in-law. Tears were streaming down Sandi’s face, but she held herself in control and approached the casket. From a sleeve of her coat she pulled out a solitary red rose and laid it lovingly on the flag. “Welcome home, darling,” she whispered. “Welcome home.”