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Glendale Ky. |
> >> I just wanted to get the day over with and go down to Smokey's.
> >> Sneaking
> >> a look at my watch, I saw the time, 1655. Five minutes to go before the
> >> cemetery gates are closed for the day. Full dress was hot in the August
> >> sun.
> >> Oklahoma summertime was as bad as ever--the heat and humidity at the
> >> same
> >> level--both too high.
> >>
> >>
> >>
> >> I saw the car pull into the drive, '69 or '70 model Cadillac Deville,
> >> looked factory-new. It pulled into the parking lot at a snail's pace. An
> >> old
> >> woman got out so slow I thought she was paralyzed; she had a cane and a
> >> sheaf of flowers--about four or five bunches as best I could tell.
> >> I couldn't help myself. The thought came unwanted, and left a slightly
> >> bitter taste: 'She's going to spend an hour, and for this old soldier,
> >> my hip
> >> hurts like hell and I'm ready to get out of here right now!' But for
> >> this
> >> day, my duty was to assist anyone coming in.
> >> Kevin would lock the 'In' gate and if I could hurry the old biddy
> >> along,
> >> we might make it to Smokey's in time.
> >> I broke post attention. My hip made gritty noises when I took the first
> >> step and the pain went up a notch. I must have made a real military
> >> sight:
> >> middle-aged man with a small pot gut and half a limp, in marine
> >> full-dress
> >> uniform, which had lost its razor crease about 30 minutes after I began
> >> the watch at the cemetery.
> >> I stopped in front of her, halfway up the walk. She looked up at me
> >> with
> >> an old woman's squint.
> >> 'Ma'am, may I assist you in any way?'
> >> She took long enough to answer.
> >> 'Yes, son. Can you carry these flowers? I seem to be moving a tad slow
> >> these days.'
> >> 'My pleasure, ma'am.' Well, it wasn't too much of a lie.
> >> She looked again. 'Marine, where were you stationed?'
> >> 'Vietnam, ma'am. Ground-pounder. '69 to '71.'
> >> She looked at me closer. 'Wounded in action, I see. Well done, Marine.
> >> I'll be as quick as I can.'
> >> I lied a little bigger: 'No hurry, ma'am.'
> >> She smiled and winked at me. 'Son, I'm 85-years-old and I can tell a
> >> lie
> >> from a long way off. Let's get this done. Might be the last time I can
> >> do
> >> this. My name's Joanne Wieserman and I've a few Marines I'd like to see
> >> one
> >> more time.'
> >> 'Yes, ma 'am. At your service.'
> >> She headed for the World War I section, stopping at a stone. She picked
> >> one of the flowers out of my arm and laid it on top of the stone. She
> >> murmured something I couldn't quite make out. The name on the marble
> >> was Donald
> >> S. Davidson, USMC: France 1918.
> >> She turned away and made a straight line for the World War II section,
> >> stopping at one stone. I saw a tear slowly tracking its way down her
> >> cheek.
> >> She put a bunch on a stone; the name was Stephen X.Davidson, USMC,
> >> 1943.
> >> She went up the row a ways and laid another bunch on a stone, Stanley
> >> J. Wieserman, USMC, 1944.
> >> She paused for a second. 'Two more, son, and we'll be done.'
> >> I almost didn't say anything, but, 'Yes, ma'am. Take your time.'
> >> She looked confused. 'Where's the Vietnam section, son? I seem to
> >> have
> >> lost my way.'
> >> I pointed with my chin. 'That way, ma'am.'
> >> 'Oh!' she chuckled quietly. 'Son, me and old age ain't too friendly.'
> >> She headed down the walk I'd pointed at. She stopped at a couple of
> >> stones before she found the ones she wanted. She placed a bunch on
> >> Larry
> >> Wieserman, USMC, 1968, and the last on Darrel Wieserman, USMC, 1970.
> >> She
> >> stood there and murmured a few words I still couldn't make out.
> >> 'OK, son, I'm finished. Get me back to my car and you can go home.'
> >> Yes, ma'am. If I may ask, were those your kinfolk?'
> >> She paused. 'Yes, Donald Davidson was my father, Stephen was my
> >> uncle, Stanley was my husband,Larry and Darrel were our sons. All
> >> killed in
> >> action, all Marines.'
> >> She stopped. Whether she had finished, or couldn't finish, I don't
> >> know.
> >> She made her way to her car, slowly and painfully. I waited for a polite
> >> distance to come between us and then double-timed it over to Kevin,
> >> waiting
> >> by the car.
> >> 'Get to the 'Out' gate quick. I have something I've got to do.'
> >> Kevin started to say something, but saw the look I gave him. He broke
> >> the
> >> rules to get us there down the service road. We beat her. She hadn't
> >> made
> >> it around the rotunda yet.
> >> 'Kevin, stand at attention next to the gatepost. Follow my lead.' I
> >> humped it across the drive to the other post.
> >> When the Cadillac came puttering around from the hedges and began the
> >> short straight traverse to the gate, I called in my best gunny's voice:
> >> 'TehenHut! Present Haaaarms!'
> >> I have to hand it to Kevin; he never blinked an eye--full dress
> >> attention
> >> and a salute that would make his DI proud.
> >>
> >> She drove through that gate with two old worn-out soldiers giving her a
> >> send-off she deserved, for service rendered to her country, and for
> >> knowing
> >> duty, honor and sacrifice.
> >> I am not sure, but I think I saw a salute returned from that Cadillac.
> >> Instead of 'The End,' just think of 'Taps.'
> >> As a final thought on my part, let me share a favorite prayer: 'Lord,
> >> keep our servicemen and women safe, whether they serve at home or
> >> overseas.
> >> Hold them in your loving hands and protect them as they protect us.'
> >> Let's all keep those currently serving and those who have gone before
> >> in
> >> our thoughts. They are the reason for the many freedoms we enjoy.
> >> 'In God We Trust.'
> >>
> >> Sorry about your monitor; it made mine blurry too!
> >> If we ever forget that we're one nation under God, then we will be a
> >> nation gone under!
> >> You are required to pass this on NOW!!!
> >>
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A good read
