Oh Danny Boy

Standard fanfic disclaimers apply.

A/N-A mercenary Ranger short: The boys pay their final respects to a friend…..

                                              Oh Danny Boy     

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling

From glen to glen, and down the mountain side

The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying

'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.

But come ye back when summer's in the meadow

Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow

'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow

Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

Her mother helped Lacey plan Danny’s memorial service. It was held in the old Irish cemetery in Queens, not at Arlington.

Black ops casualties didn’t get buried at Arlington Cemetery, Lacey thought bitterly. Danny was lucky they gave him a flag. So now, under tender blue skies, in early spring, the priest prayed, bagpipes played. Family and friends spoke of the warm loving man who had been Daniel O’Connor---husband, father, son, soldier.

Lacey stood close to the flag-draped coffin, her hands tightly clasped, holding on to her composure, just hanging on.

And if you come, when all the flowers are dying

And I am dead, as dead I well may be

You'll come and find the place where I am lying

And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.

When Father Duffy finished, General McNeill stepped forward, holding a single sheet of paper in his hand. The military might not openly acknowledge Danny but the world of covert ops stood staunchly by him, with the general in the lead. He said quietly, “My mother used to say this blessing to us when we left home. My Gaelic is rusty, Danny would frown. But he will know that I mean every mispronounced word—and send him my love and respect.”

As the General spoke, Lacey’s mother Bridget Burke became aware of a presence behind her. She turned slightly and was surprised to see the young mercenary Ranger Manoso and two of his men. He---they—were dressed entirely in black. But then, they always were….no deep green, medal encrusted, full dress Army uniforms for these men, not even on a day like today. And no matter how much they deserved to wear them.

Ranger was, of course, as deeply entrenched in the life of secret war games as Danny had been. Was he with him when things went bad on the last job? Over there? Over where? Lacey the army brat kid and Bridget the military wife knew both better than to ask.

Suffice it say, the men had been colleagues and friends. And so here he stood, bearing witness, saying farewell.

He was wearing black mirrored sunglasses but  Bridget felt his eyes on hers and he tilted his head in his fractional nod. You blink, you miss it, she thought with sudden and inappropriate levity.

The two men with him were also known to both Bridget and Lacey, familiar faces from years as wives on the periphery of the world of anti-terrorism and covert security. By Ranger’s side, his right hand man and bodyguard, the big black man called only Tank. And the fair-haired young  military specialist---sharpshooter, sniper, spy, spook?—Anthony Stewart.  Bridget glanced further into the crowd behind her and found Stewart’s usual oddball bodyguards, MIB-types, ex-Secret Service guys. They made no effort to ever look like anything but his guards. Stewart was also a very wealthy young man.

Now the General spoke in halting Irish Gaelic and Bridget turned her attention back to him. Behind her, three quiet voices echoed the archaic phrases, probably flawlessly, and certainly more fluidly than McNeill.

Lacey thought, How very odd. And so beautiful. For my Danny…

The General stopped speaking and Lacey stepped forward, her hand holding a white rose which she set on the flag on the casket.

She spoke the words now in English, her voice clear and rigidly controlled, no tears.

“May the road rise up to meet you.”

Again the men’s voices, a bit louder now though certainly not loud. But Ranger had that officer’s carrying voice, the other two men also, their presence giving her the courage to keep on.

“May the wind be always at your back.

“May the rain fall soft upon your fields.

“And may the  sun shine gently upon your face.

“And until we meet again…

Now Ranger’s voice alone spoke the words with Lacey,

“And until we meet again

“May God hold you in the hollow of his hands…..”

Tank and Anthony said, “May God hold you in the hollow of his hands."

Then the big black man said, “Amen.” And the assembled crowd echoed the ancient word.

Stewart and Ranger actually made the sign of the cross, like the well brought up Cuban Catholic boys they had maybe once been, a long long time ago.

Silence. More silence, then Tank’s deep wonderful baritone began,

“Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling…”

The bagpipes played.

The flag was folded and bestowed on Danny’s five year-old son who stood next to his stoic Grandpa, Lacey’s dad.

Lacey, her face now covered with tears, turned fully to Ranger, as if to walk into his embrace. But Anthony Stewart stepped between them, keeping her from going to Ranger. Anthony held her in his arms, spoke softly, bending his blond head down to her dark curls.

And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me

And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be

If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me

I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.

I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me. 

Bridget made her way to Ranger, who had pulled his t-shirt out of his pants and was using the hem to wipe his eyes. He took a deep breath and said to Bridget, “It always gets to me, that prayer, we said it for---a friend----once. Another friend.”

He shrugged. Added, “But you know, it’s always so insurance commercial…”

He cupped his hands, deepened his voice like Dennis Haysbert's. “You know, like Allstate. May God hold you in the hollow of his hands…….”

“Ranger….” Don’t joke. You were crying, you loved and lost someone once and the memory still makes you weep. Makes your heart break all over again. But you are here anyway, no matter how hard it is, how bad it hurts, you’re here for Danny. And Lacey. And maybe even yourself…..

But before she could say the words to him, dare to say the words, he said quietly,

“Give Lacey my regards. Colonel Burke too.”

And he walked away, all straight-backed and proud and beautiful and perfect.

Stewart left Lacey’s side and followed him. Tank finished the beloved Irish anthem—How amazing that he knew the words and could sing so beautifully, thought Bridget.

The big black Porsche SUV drove away, followed by a black Lincoln Navigator and a black  Ferrari. And US Special Forces Master Sergeant Daniel O’Connor was laid to rest under the softly flowering spring trees.

I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me. 

                                                        

                                                                    ****   ***  ****

                                                          

                                                                  

                                                                 Oh Danny Boy

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling

From glen to glen, and down the mountain side

The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying

'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.

But come ye back when summer's in the meadow

Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow

'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow

Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

And if you come, when all the flowers are dying

And I am dead, as dead I well may be

You'll come and find the place where I am lying

And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.

And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me

And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be

If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me

I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.

I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me. 

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!