torso was thickened, but he was still in decent shape.

 

His hair was white and thinning on top, his mustache more salt-andpepper. He was

dressed in khakis, loafers, and an Army green windbreaker.

 

Puller walked over to him and the face came more into focus. And then it

clicked. “Mr. Demirjian?” Stan Demirjian came forward, but he didn’t have the

same level of recognition on his features.

 

Then it hit him. “My God. Are you one of the Puller boys?” “John.” The men shook

hands.

 

Demirjian said, “You look like your daddy. But you’re even taller.” “You still

look combat ready.” The man laughed. “As if.” Then he stopped laughing and his

features became somber. “I guess they told you.” “It’s why I’m here.” “I can

understand that. I drove over this morning just to have a look around at the old

place. Never thought they’d shutter Fort Monroe. Not with all the history and

everything. Captain John Smith discovered the place. Point Comfort. First slaves

came through here, you know, traded for damn supplies Dutch skippers needed.”

“But even DoD needs to get with the times and save money,” Puller pointed out.

“Yes, they do. We lived here on post housing. Took about a year to get.”

“Right.” Demirjian took on a wistful expression, as though he were peering

deeply into the past. “Monroe was where the big dogs lived. Oneand two-stars

didn’t even have entourages like at other installations.