The National Review’s Michael Ledeen writes eloquently on the death of General Vernon Walters, but he ends his piece on this strange note:

[…] He was too down to earth to be impressed by the intellectuals, and yet too well read and too cultured to fit into the world of Joe Six-pack. He never married, but he took a young naval officer under his wing, and made him his personal assistant. Captain Lee Martini traveled the world with his general, thought deeply about what he’d learned…and became a Benedictine priest. And I’m sure that Father Martini will celebrate a most appropriate mass today in honor of his friend and mentor. [emphasis added]

Am I crazy, or is there some sort of pointed subtext here?

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