At the start of the funeral procession I found myself highly embarrassed by a small incident. KC had arrived in white with a white handbag. One of her cousins told her she couldn't possibly carry a handbag so she gave it to me. I then found myself in the long procession behind the coffin, dark grey suit, black tie, trilby, furled umbrella and carrying a white ladies handbag. Somewhere I remember seeing a photo of myself. I can no longer find it so I imagine I must have destroyed it at some time. There are times when women can never understand the dignity of man.
The Vietnamese are highly efficient at burying people and everything went off smoothly. The Chinese had professional wailers I believe but not the Vietnamese. Tears were very restrained.
I have always been fascinated by visiting old cemeteries, particularly military ones. Although one can fully understand the bringing of loved one's bodies back for burial the former habit, of necessity, of burying soldiers in foreign lands left I felt everlasting monuments to past conflicts.