A Grateful Nation...Cries

There are few instances in this life that have caused my eyes to well with tears and release those emotions which lay deep inside. A man who cries is often accused of being a lesser man. If that be the case, so be it. I’ll bear the blot on my character without shame or regret.

In the late 60’s I found myself as a member of the military and along with my regularly assigned chores, I was a member of a military honor team. We were becoming quite busy at the time. Unlike our counterparts on the “A” team, crisp and starched, playing on the fields of the National Cemeteries, we were the “B” team traveling throughout Tennessee, Kentucky and parts of No. Carolina to the small rural communities to pay homage to our brethren who paid the ultimate sacrifice. We never made the evening news like the “A” team, but the ceremony and the tribute to the fallen were matching.

Young men in uniform served as pallbearers carrying and escorting their comrade from the church or funeral home to the gravesite carrying along with them the secret thought that one day this might be their fate. The sounds of Taps echoed throughout the countryside. Seven young men with rifles pointed their weapons into the air and on command fired three times each. The flag of the United States was folded neatly into a triangle and presented to the next-of-kin. There are variations of the words spoken during the presentation, but a common premise stands true. “…on behalf of a grateful nation…”

By the end of the week or the beginning of the next this scene will have been played for the 4,000th time since the invasion of Iraq. Arguing the merits of the campaign no longer serve a useful purpose. We are mired in the quicksand of war and if there is a light at the end of the tunnel, it is only that of an oncoming train. The current administration will never relent and the successors will find themselves powerless to slow the runaway train.

“…on behalf of a grateful nation…” I can no longer hide the tears.