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Ruprecht O'Tolf Wine Cellar
McGuire's Irish Pub
Pensacola, Florida
1750 6 January 2006
The only thing the obliging management and staff of McGuire's would not do to accommodate the Lorimer Charitable & Benevolent Fund's board of directors dinner was permit its executive director to smoke a cigar. They had even sneaked Max in through a fire exit door.
The management had made available to them the Wine Cellar, which was both a bona fide wine cellar--with, so the menu said, more than seven thousand bottles of wine--and a private dining room with a long banquet table in a sunken room within sight of the wine.
By the time DeWitt opened the door for Lieutenant General Bruce J. McNab's spectacular appearance on the passageway between the door and the wine cellar--McNab was in uniform, which was adorned not only with an impressive display of multicolored ribbons representing the wars he had been in and the decorations he had been awarded but seven sets of parachutist's wings and two aiguillettes--Lieutenant Colonel C. G. Castillo had had ample time to consider that coming to a festive Irish pub (with, for example, some two hundred thousand dollars in one-dollar bills stapled by "honorary Irishmen and lasses" to its ceiling and walls) might not be, after all, one of his brightest ideas.
To say that the general was going to be surprised when he found everyone--Castillo, Dick Miller, Colin Leverette, Jack Davidson, Alex Darby, Edgar Delchamps, Lester Bradley, Jack and Sandra Britton, plus, of course, Dmitri Berezovsky and Svetlana Alekseeva--gathered around a table covered with an impressive display of hors d'oeuvres and numerous bottles of wine from the cellar was something of an understatement.
But what proved to be the real surprise, which caused Castillo's mouth literally to momentarily gape, was that one of the three officers--also in full uniform, trailing the general, "the old friend" who McNab had mentioned--was not Chief Warrant Officer Five (Retired) Victor D'Allessando. Nor was it some old crony from the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment with whom Charley and Dick could swap war stories.
It was, in
stead, Lieutenant Colonel Randolph Richardson III, of the Army Aviation School.
Corporal Bradley broke the silence as he shot to his feet, sending his heavy chair loudly screeching five feet backward across the hardwood flooring.
"Attention on deck!" he bellowed as loud as he could. "Flag officer on deck!"
"As you were," McNab said. "Good evening, gentlemen." He then saw Svetlana and Sandra. He looked at Castillo. "And ladies."
McNab came regally down the stairs and headed for Svetlana and Sandra, who were standing at the table, washing oysters down with Chardonnay.
"Bruce McNab, ladies. May I ask what two beautiful women are doing with all these ugly men?"
"I'm Sandra Britton, and I'm waiting for the good time that ugly man promised if we came along with him," Sandra said, pointing at her husband. "All he's produced so far is a couple of lousy oysters."
Svetlana laughed, and McNab turned to her.
"And you, my dear. What did the ugly man promise you?"
"I thought it would probably be more than oysters. But I have to admit these are very good."
"And you are?"
"Susan Barlow, General, and this man is my brother, Tom."
McNab's eyes said, Like hell. I know who you and Brother Tom are.
"An honor, General," Berezovsky said. "I've heard a lot about you from Carlos."
"I'll bet you have," McNab said.
"I'm Edgar Delchamps, General. Ditto."
"Ditto?"
"I've heard a lot about you, General."
"Ditto. From some mutual acquaintances in Virginia."
"Alex Darby, General." Darby offered his hand, chuckled, and added, "Ditto, ditto, ditto."
