Jul 20, 2008 | 4:40 PM
Category:
Faith
SOME OF US WILL UNDERSTAND THIS MORE
THAN OTHERS~!
GOD
~ COUNTRY ~ HONOR
I just
wanted to get the day over with and...........
go down to Smokey's for a
few cold ones.
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 just hurry the old biddy along ,
we might
make the last half of happy hour at Smokey's.
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 bunches
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 one 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 just 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 JUSTgot 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 to attention next to the gate
post.
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 quite sure, but I think I saw............
a BIG 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!'