The visiting alumni are guests of Lieutenant General Dave R. Palmer, superintendent of the Academy, at a luncheon before the game. Glenn and Doc do their best to blend in with the other old grads, but with little success, for the room is alive with memories of them. "I'm Colonel Al Rushton, director of admissions here," says one smiling man in uniform, "and I just want to tell you that you two have been my heroes since I was in grammar school."
"Grammar school?" asks an abashed Doc. "Glenn, I told you it wasn't gonna get any better. Didn't it used to be high school?"
General Palmer calls the large room to attention. "Ladies and gentlemen," he says, "I was unable to get Grant and Lee for you today, or Eisenhower and MacArthur, but we do have another pair of Army heroes here, and I must call them a pair, because that's certainly what they were. Will you please join me in welcoming Glenn Davis and Doc Blanchard."
The guests rise to their feet and the room fairly explodes with applause. Slowly, Mr. Inside and Mr. Outside set aside their luncheon plates to stand in acknowledgment of this thunderous reception. True enough, Blanchard and Davis were never Grant and Lee. The one was a fighter jock, the other a reluctant infantry lieutenant. They're middle-aged now. gone a little gray, a little paunchy. They are both of them humble enough and sane enough to accept with good humor that to new generations of Americans they will be strangers. But their eyes glisten as they stand before this applauding crowd. Here, on the banks of the Hudson, they will always have a place. And as the applause rises, they look at each other with genuine affection and respect, and they share a little smile. Together again. Together forever.