"And what about you Polly?" I said quietly.
"Harry's dead!" she said abruptly, her mouth held firm to still the trembling of her chin.
"God! No!" I reached out and took her hands. "Polly!" I shook my head. I couldn't think of a thing to say. She took a deep breath and tried to relax, to shake off whatever terrible picture she had imagined of his ending.
"Pat tells me she wrote to you about Harry getting to the Chinese mainland," she said at last.
"Yes, I knew he was there but the last word I had before we dropped into Korea was that they were making good progress in their research."
"They were for a while," she said sadly, "but one day the Communists found out about it and threw a surprise attack at them. They were driven back to the beach and Harry was hit in the head with a piece of shrapnel. The Nationalists managed to get them away to Taiwan and they turned him over to the Americans. He died in Taipei."
"Do you know what killed him?" I asked.
"Some sort of fungus disease of the brain that entered through the wound. He was never fully conscious after he got hit. He didn't rally from the operation but just gradually weakened and died."
"How did you find out?"
"One of the officers who was with him on the mainland wrote to me."