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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, a '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
slowly 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 thirty
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.
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