In dank, dark weather, Douglas Mac-Arthur's body arrived in Manhattan.
There, in Park Avenue's 7th Regiment Armory, mourners moved past him at a rate of some 3,000 an hour. Next morning, a cortege placed the plain, steel Army casket aboard a train that took MacArthur, his widow Jean and son Arthur, 26, to Washington. It was raining as the procession headed slowly toward the Capitol, but tens of thousands lined the streets. In the rotunda President Johnson, his face working with emotion, placed a wreath at the casket's head. A dirge sounded as a military honor guard took its post.
But, already,...
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