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Recluse
02-04-2009, 12:11 AM
In all the time I've been hanging around reading this board, I rarely ever checked out this area. I despise politics, and ultimately, politics gets discussed. It turns people against each other--good people who, until they knew the other's political thoughts or leanings, were like brothers. Then they become suspicious and distrusting of each other.

So for several years, I stayed away. Plan to continue staying away.

However, one of the youngsters freshly returned from Afghanistan at our VFW Post gave this to some of us older vets. Not sure where he got it, doesn't matter. Just that it hits home. No other place to post it except here.

Enjoy and reflect.

:coffee:



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, '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 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.

A veteran - whether active duty, retired, national guard or reserve - is someone who, at one point in his or her life, wrote a blank check made payable to "The United States of America," for an amount of "up to and including my life." That is honor, and there are way too many people in this country who no longer understand that."

:drinks:

45nut
02-04-2009, 12:52 AM
That post isn't politics, moved to a area more suited to the excellent content.

Dean D.
02-04-2009, 01:39 AM
Thank you for sharing this Recluse and thank you for moving it 45Nut.

I joined my local VFW Post mainly to help out with honor details for our fallen comrades. Nothing can be more sacred than to give our veterans their final send off in a fitting manner. Work does not allow me to participate in every detail but I participate in every one I can.

bobk
02-04-2009, 08:42 AM
Thank you. That does bring tears to my eyes. We have been blessed that everyone who served in both sides of my family made it back more or less intact, except for at least one Civil War soldier. Not all families have been as fortunate.
Bob K

Ricochet
02-04-2009, 05:20 PM
Brought tears to mine, too. Thanks for posting it!

klcarroll
02-05-2009, 02:14 PM
Tears are appropriate: ......Our people in uniform are our very finest; .....and we continue to ask them to sacrifice themselves in distant lands, where their sacrifices are either scorned or simply unappreciated.

I recently visited a Military Cemetery in Pensacola, on the way to visit the Air Museum there. My brother-in-law (whom we were visiting) couldn't understand why this old man broke down and wept at the sight of all those orderly rows of crosses. I doubt that I'll ever be able to explain it to him.

Kent

Hardcast416taylor
02-05-2009, 06:23 PM
......SEMPER FI..... Day is Done...... Robert

mroliver77
02-07-2009, 05:36 PM
My family has lost a few in the wars. My Dad served in USN WW2. Then Army during the brief respite . He then went into the USAF Air Sea Rescue for the Korean War. He did not talk much about it but when he had a few drinks he would tell of bagging the Heroes and sending them home.
My sisters boy signed up for the Marines knowing he would go to Iraq. He was wounded his first trip there by shrapnel from a rocket. He is there now on second tour. Sometimes we wonder about the youngsters these days. There sure are some awsome ones and I stand in awe and thank all veterans.
In memory of my dad.
James Franklin Hefflinger
Jay

madman
02-13-2009, 02:59 PM
Tears here also. My Family has been here since the 1620's sacrificed their lives in every conflict, battle or war. Both sides during Civil war. My 4 Brothers served. My war was Nam. Nephews and Great Nephews in now all over the world. God bless our protectors and their Families. The Friends and Family members that are gone but never will be forgotten.