CHAPTER 8 - The Gate Keeper

True to his word the young elk hunter pulled up to the gatekeeper's cabin
the day before elk season. The note on the door told the Kid to come in
and make himself comfortable until the Gunney got back from town. Knowing
the routine he went in and started the coffee that he knew the Gunney would
be expecting on his return. He got down two of the thick white mugs from the
shelf. Each still had the dark blue US Navy markings on the bottom and
had the slight waist to them that made them easier to grasp. The Gunney
had some lighter mugs and cups for guests but he always used the heavy Navy
mugs. The Kid felt incredibly comfortable in the cabin. It was quickly
becoming the place that he regarded as home. Some day he would be able to
settle down and he hoped in would be in a place as welcoming as this.

When he heard the Gunney stomping snow off his boots on the porch he quickly
poured coffee into the two mugs on the worn table. There was no sugar or
cream on the table, the Gunney wouldn't allow it. The door swung open
as the Gunney carried in a box of cigars and his dress blues in a plastic bag
from the dry cleaners. He always kept his uniforms in great shape. A hard habit
to break after 20 years in the service.

Their conversations that day centered around the best place for the Kid
to find elk the next day. The snow in the high meadows was about two foot
deep so it wouldn't be long before the elk would start moving to lower
ground. The Gunney got down a pair of snowshoes for the Kid along with
a white parka. The next day's hunt would start early so the Kid hit the
rack early.

0400 hours found the Kid rolling out of his rack as he quietly gathered his
gear. He made enough coffee for his Thermos then left the warm cabin without
waking up the Gunney. Out on the main road he headed up the hill to the
turn off for the upper most gate on the ranch which lead to the high meadows.
He had to leave the truck outside the gate due to the deep snow and adjusted
the bindings on the snowshoes before he shouldered his pack. The hike into
the rocks where his uncle's blind was located went smoothly in the powder snow.
He had crossed several elk tracks on the way and they converged just below
the rock pile and in front of the blind. Curious he made a circle around the
meadow and found more elk trails in the snow also headed for the rock pile.
Back at the pile he could see where the elk had milled about and then headed
down hill making one wide track in the snow. The elk droppings were still
steaming indicating that the last elk had left less than half an hour ago.

He had never witnessed such an apparently organized action by elk herds but
he was new at elk hunting and had a lot to learn. Knowing that hunting there
was useless he decided to return to cabin to consult with the Gunney. His trek
to his truck was made easier by following the trail he had made coming in.
He thought of the elk behavior all the way down the mountain and was not surprised
when he saw herds of elk out in the fields near the cabin.

He approached the cabin and noticed there was no smoke coming from the chimney.
It was 0800 hours and the Gunney would normally be up stoking the fire. Well it
was a good morning to sleep-in he thought as he opened the cabin door. He stirred
the banked coals in the fireplace and put on a few logs before he put the coffee
pot back on the burner. The smell of fresh coffee would soon rouse the Gunney.
He took his mug from the sink and got a fresh one down for the Gunney. He decided
to further entice the Gunney with bacon and eggs. When the bacon was sizzling he
decided to check on the Gunney since he had heard no sounds from his room.

He slowly opened the Gunney's door and then froze where he stood. His heart
sank and he heard himself scream "Gunney!". Stepping closer he realized that
the Gunney would never again hear the call to morning chow. His face was
calm but he looked like he had aged 100 years overnight. He checked for a pulse
and the cool touch told him the Gunney had passed many hours ago. He clumsily
stumbled back to the door. Looking the room over he noticed the dress blues
were carefully hung on a wooden hanger and a note was pinned to the blouse.
On the floor were a shiny pair of spit polished shoes and hanging from a close by
peg was his dress sabre. He realized then that the Gunney knew that this was
his last revelee. He reached out with his numb fingers and removed the note
from the dress uniform. With great respect and caring he slowly closed the
bedroom door so he wouldn't disturb his friend's final sleep.

Before he sat down at the table he turned off the fire under the iron skillet
knowing that breakfast would wait. He had a task to do for a friend first.
Opening the note he found brief instructions followed by a short personal note
and then the signature of simply "The Gate Keeper".

He dialed the phone number and a heard the gentle voice of a woman answer.
He told her he had a personal message for the "old Man". She said "Just a moment
and I will get the General." He was wondering if he had dialed the wrong number when a firm
voice on the phone said "Speak." He did as the Gunney's note had instructed him
and simply said "The gatekeeper has died." The line was quiet except for the
sound of glass breaking probably on a floor. The voice finally returned and said
"You must be the Kid.". He replied "Yes General, I am trying to find the
Gunney's family." The General replied "You just did. He told me all about
you in his last letter. Put him out in the barn where it is cold and the
coyotes won't bother him until we get there in two days. I'll take care
of everything. All you have to do is have the coffee hot." The line went
dead and the young elk hunter stood there in a daze.

After moving the Gunney to the barn and wrapping him carefully in an old tarp
he headed into town. His mind was blank but he knew he should tell the folks
in town about the Gunney's death. His first stop was the restaurant. He
passed along his grim message and it took a few minutes before anyone in
the restaurant would move or make a sound. He hated being the bearer of bad
news but was impressed by the regard that everyone had for the Gunney.

After a few more stops his unpleasant duty done. He was loading up the groceries
into his truck when the General Store owner came out with a case of coffee and
explained that with all the folks that would be coming he would need plenty of coffee
and no, there was no charge for the coffee. When he got back to the cabin
he realized that the Gunney's morning chores would not have been done.

He got the stock fed and grained up the horses. He noticed the horses were
acting odd and would not leave the barn. He guessed that they must sense the
Gunney's passing. He looked out into the pasture to check on the cattle but
saw more livestock than the there should be. Then he realized the fields were
full of elk and mule deer.

On the morning of the second day he felt more than heard the arrival of the
General and his men. He was amazed at the sight. He had no idea where the
General commandered the old 6x6 trucks or the howitzers that were rumbling into
the barn yard. The General's Suburan pulled up to the cabin and the "old
Man" stepped out. After a firm hand shake and pleasantries the General
asked if the coffee was hot. He showed the General, his wife, and staff into the
cabin and poured coffee for all. A specialized detail was given the Gunney's
dress blues before they headed for the barn to prepare him for the
afternoon's ceremony. A casket made of American walnut was uncrated and
carried to the barn by its blued steel handles. Even the USMC emblem inlaid
into the top was finished in dark oiled bronze. The General had definitely
taken care of everything as he promised.

The town's people and other friends of the Gunney showed up at 1400 hours as
asked. The military equipment had been staged on close by low hills leaving
the barn yard open for the mourners. At the appointed time the crowd
walked the hundred yards up to the small knoll behind the cabin and gathered
around the waiting grave site. Solemly and slowly the honor guard brought the
flag drapped casket from the barn to the knoll. The ceremony was typically
military until the former Commandant stepped forward to make his remarks.
The gist of them were that although we cannot speak of snipers and their
activities publicly, we can privately honor them for saving countless fellow
Marines who were in harms way. He then explained how the Gunney had earned
the nickname "gatekeeper" on foreign soil. The remarks were concluded and then
the entire ranch echoed with the twenty one rounds of Howitzer ammo that
sailed out across the fields. After the reverberations finally faded away
the crowd slowly broke up. Many of the crowd stopped at the cabin to
share stories of the Gunney or express their loss. A few old marines
and hunters stayed later for coffee and Jack. The sounding of Taps by a cold
bugler standing on the knoll signaled the end of the day.

The next morning dawned cold and bright. Rolling out of bed at 0600 hours the
Kid was going to honor the Gunney's routine. He put the coffee on and headed
out to the barn to tend to the stock. On the way back from the barn
he heard a vehicle coming up the gravel lane crunching through the snow.
A couple of young men bailed out of the pickup and came over to him. He noticed
the short cropped hair and asked if they were in the military. They said they
were in the Navy and on leave to go elk hunting. The closest one asked
"We were wondering if we could get permission to hunt your meadows?"
The Kid said "Yes, you are welcome. Come on in the cabin and I will show
you where to go on a map." In the cabin the maps were unfolded on the old
table and the directions were given to where the elk had probably returned.
The Kid told them that he would lead them up to the gate and unlock it for them.
At the gate the young hunters thanked him and then asked what his name was.
He replied "I would be honored if you would just call me the gate keeper".


EPILOGUE

This concludes my summary of some of the people I have known. I have found that
military men and experienced hunters are similiar. Their quary are different
but their reliance on and bonding with each other are similar. When you introduce
a young person to hunting and other outdoor experieces you are giving them something
that will last a lifetime. Think back on all the people you have known and see if
your hunting buddies are not some of the most significant.

Yes, in my library above my fireplace mantel there are two crossed sabres. Resting below
them on oak pegs is a very special Winchester Model 70 with Unertl scope. On the mantel
below lays a worn brass key ring and an old gate key. Glancing at them brings back a flood
of memories, some of which I just shared with you.

Good Hunting,

OEH

Thank you

Are these stories in a book Or available in some form? If so I would be interested in the full series. I came on these stories several and did not find them in the older pages of this forumn. Thank you for posting these. It speaks well for you that hese were posted. The lesson is worthy of further thought

quote:

Originally posted by hta:
Are these stories in a book Or available in some form? If so I would be interested in the full series. I came on these stories several and did not find them in the older pages of this forumn. Thank you for posting these. It speaks well for you that hese were posted. The lesson is worthy of further thought

OEH--Old Elk Hunter was a poster on The Small Game Forum years ago when this place was still fun.
I will PM you hta and tell you where the rest can be found.

There were posters once, and amusing.

touching story. Thank you.

OEH--I'm not a Marine, but a "doggie" but I really was touched by your words. One of my occasional shooting buddies is "Gunny Bill" and the first time we met he said "You're military, aren't you?". There is a bond between that doesn't need words.

Since that first meeting, I've heard stories about Guadalcanal (to include the serial number of the Springfield he carried there) and many other battlefields.

He's still with us-deaf as a post, but he's still a Marine!

Thanks for sharing.