“Do the next thing”

It reminded me of a scene from one of those old movies. The kind set back in “war” times. It takes place in the town square where the locals have brought out their instruments to play hand clapping, foot stomping music under the stars. There is laughter, singing, and hushed, and not so hushed, conversation all around. There are tables of food and much to drink. Lemonade, iced tea, and possibly more potent choices. In this movie maybe it is a wedding reception, the celebration of a birthday, or just one of those summer holidays. It’s lively and colorful within the lighted circle, and here and there you see folks join the fray, or others head home arm in arm chuckling and yawning. Mixed in the jumble are the latest town heroes. Conspicuously dressed, they stand out; they are going off to war. They are young Marines in full dress uniform. These favorite sons are leaving in the morning. Various folks come and speak to them for a time, but then go off and blend back into the crowd. There is a woman and her daughter sitting arm in arm on a bench watching one of the men; soon a son and brother will go to war for the very first time. He is brave and they are proud, but easily tears could fall at any moment. The other man has gone once before; he is like a big brother to the younger Marine. Looking ahead in this movie you can see them emerge from the watching throng, hop aboard the steam engine, and wave to those whose freedom they will go and fight for. The train clanks away and the onlookers slowly make their way home; only a few stay to watch the train until it is out of sight, straining to hear the final haunting whistle. The movie is upbeat yet sobering. Everyone knows our soldiers are brave and that we should live on in their absence in a way that honors the freedoms that they fight for, and that we hold so dear.

The scene is surreal here at Fort Yargo. It is just like one of those movies. The strings of white lights dangle from the pavilion openings. The candles on the tables flicker illuminating photos from days gone by. Black and white, they take you back to older times—a time when soldiers were celebrated at their departure and welcomed upon their return. In this culture of ours, the one we find here tonight, it is no different than the history I imagine. There are no protestors or dissenters. Rather, there are students who one day hope to be like them. You know that because they already have the crew cut, and they raised their hands during a session earlier that day when the question was asked, “Who plans to join the military after graduation?” The mom and the daughter are not imagined for illustration’s sake, but a real sight here from where I stand. The soldiers are real too. They are in full dress uniform because it is Memorial Day and earlier that evening they ceremoniously took down the flag they had hoisted to half staff that morning. The presentation of the carefully folded flag was made to the TeenPact Class President, but was later passed to the President and Founder in commemoration of that day. We know them by name. They are one of us. We see them off with all of the emotion we can spare. Still, we must turn and continue on. We chat with a friend, watch the games, or listen to the fiddles. The Marines stand amidst the crowd knowing they aren’t of this world anymore. I’m sure they find their thoughts wandering to another shore, and another time. One of them can look back; the other can only look ahead. The rest of us look on for a little while, but mostly look away, to hide the tears.

There is fun and laughter in the air, and there is pride in our hearts, and there are prayers on our lips.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, June 6th, 2006 at 2:51 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.