Near Pila, Buenos Aires Province
1134 8 May 1943
“You may kiss your bride, Cletus,” the Very Reverend Matthew Cashley-Price said softly in English, earning him a dirty look from the Right Reverend Manuel de Parto, bishop of the Diocese of Pila, who didn’t speak English, and who was already more than a little annoyed that he had been ordered to allow the Anglican clergyman to participate in the wedding.
“Huh?” the groom asked, startled, and then added, “Right. Sorry.”
He was in dress blues, complete to medals—not just the ribbons—and Marine officer’s sword.
He had been looking at the bride, who was wearing a bridal gown that had been her grandmother’s and, for the last minute or so, a wedding ring. It had just struck the groom, like a baseball bat in the back of the head, that he was now a married man, that the incredibly beautiful woman looking up at him had just sworn, until death did them part, to share his life, and as undeniable proof of that was carrying their baby under all that lace and silk.
With great tenderness—as though if he did it wrong, she would break, like an eggshell—he pushed her veil up over her head and bent and kissed her.
A murmur of approval came from the spectators in the chapel.
“Now we take communion,” Dorotéa whispered. “Kneel down.”
“Right,” he said, looking down at two prie-dieux placed in front of them. He somewhat awkwardly got on his knees, knocking his uniform cap off his prie-dieu as he did so.
As they hurried to put the cap back where it belonged, First Lieutenant Anthony J. Pelosi, Corps of Engineers, Army of the United States, who was in his Class A uniform, complete to medals, glistening Corcoran jump boots, and the thick golden rope that identified him as a military attaché, bumped into Suboficial Mayor Enrico Rodríguez, Retired, who was in the incredibly ornate dress uniform of the Húsares de Pueyrredón—the design of which had obviously been strongly influenced by the uniforms of King and Emperor Franz Josef’s Hungarian cavalry. Suboficial Mayor Rodríguez won the race and put the cap where it belonged with a gesture of triumph.
“Now get up,” Mrs. Cletus H. Frade ordered when they had received the wafer representing the body of Christ. “And don’t forget your hat.”
The groom rose to his feet, tucked his uniform cap under his arm, performed an about-face, and, when his bride had taken his arm, marched with her down the aisle of the chapel.
On the groom’s side of the church, sitting in one of the rows of upholstered chairs, Mrs. Martha Howell was blowing her nose. Mr. Cletus Marcus Howell nodded his head, apparently in approval. Sitting beside him was Señora Claudia Carzino-Cormano, who was also wiping her nose. Beside her was Señora Beatrice Frade de Duarte, who was wearing a dazzling smile and waving at the bridal couple, while her husband dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief.
In the first wooden pew on the groom’s side of the aisle were the Misses Howell, who each gave a thumbs-up to the newlyweds; Señorita Isabela Carzino-Cormano (her sister Alicia had been the bride’s only attendant, and, with her arm in Lieutenant Pelosi’s, was now following the couple down the aisle); Coronel Juan Domingo Perón, who was wearing his dress uniform; and Señorita Maria-Teresa Alberghoni, who had been introduced as Lieutenant Pelosi’s fiancée, and whom Coronel Perón obviously found charming.
The second pew held General Arturo Rawson, President of the Republic of Argentina; Señora Rawson; Capitán Roberto Lauffer, General Rawson’s aide-de-camp; and Coronel Bernardo Martín. Capitán Lauffer and Coronel Martín were in uniform; General Rawson wore a business suit.
In the third pew were Colonel A. F. Graham, USMC, and Captain Maxwell Ashton III, AUS, both in uniform and wearing the silver aiguillettes of military attachés; Sargento Rudolpho Gomez, Argentine Cavalry, Retired, who had sold his uniforms on retirement and was in a blue serge suit that looked to be two sizes too small; and Mr. Milton Leibermann, Legal Attaché of the American Embassy. The four pews behind held members of the upper hierarchy of Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo and their wives.
On the bride’s side, the row of upholstered chairs held Señora Pamela Mallín, who was wiping her eyes; her husband Enrico; his mother; and Little Enrico Mallín. Señor Mallín, the father of the bride, looked very unhappy, and had looked unhappy since he had entered the church and noticed Señorita Alberghoni sitting across the aisle with el Coronel Juan Domingo Perón.
The pews behind them held Mrs. Cashley-Price, various members of the Mallín family, and more members of the senior staff of Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo and their wives.
Immediately outside the chapel, the newlyweds passed between and under the raised sabers of eight officers of the Húsares de Pueyrredón in full dress uniform. This was el Coronel Perón’s surprise contribution to the wedding. The Special Assistant to the Minister of Defense had called the regiment’s colonel commanding and suggested this might be an appropriate honor to render to the son of the former colonel commanding, who happened to be a distinguished soldier himself.
The path from the chapel to th
e main house was lined by the workers of Estancia San Pedro y San Pablo. The men removed their hats and bobbed their heads as the couple passed by, and the women curtseyed. Some of both sexes crossed themselves. Halfway to the house, when he caught the groom’s eye, one of the gauchos popped to attention, saluted crisply, mouthed the words “Beautiful bride, skipper, good luck!” and then resumed the arrogant posture of a gaucho.
The staff of the main house was lined up on the steps and on the veranda.
The bride and groom entered the house and passed down the corridor to the master suite.
The groom closed and locked the door, turned to his bride, and tried to kiss her.
“Wait a moment,” she said, startling him.
Then she startled him even more by reaching behind her, unbuttoning something, shrugging out of the top of the dress, and then stepping out of the skirt and its petticoats. She then stood before him wearing nothing but a very fragile brassiere and matching pants.
“Now,” she said. “God, that dress is uncomfortable!”
The groom kissed the bride.
When the kiss became passionate, she freed herself from his arms.