A message over email. Fallen comrade ceremony.
Check the details. There is the time.
Here the announcement over the Giant Voice "There will be a fallen comrade ceremony at . . ." One hour. Enough time to eat.
Finish dinner. Walk out to the road. People are starting to line the road. Spot a buddy and walk over next to him.
People chatting about anything and everything.
"There will be a fallen comrade ceremony in 15 minutes"
Still chatting, but finding our spots along the line.
No words spoken, but then the chatter dies. Lines of men and women. Looking across at each other. Legs spread, hands behind back. Silent and serious.
A car comes by. Snap to attention. A second car. With the coffin and flag in the back. Salutes from the men and women in uniform. Hold it. A third car comes. A camera films the lines of men and women at attention. Soon, someone will see this video. And they will know that their son/daughter/husband/wife/brother/sister was remembered with honor.
Salutes are dropped. And we disperse. Back to do our duty.
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2 comments:
That's the sort of thing that reminds you where you are, isn't it? great story.
LugerLA--
My thoughts go out to the family and friends of your fallen comrade; and to all of you there in Afghanistan, that none of your friends and family will experience what you experienced that day.
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