Saturday, February 21, 2009
Cemetery Duty
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 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 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.'In God  We Trust.'  Sorry  about your monitor; it made mine blurry too! If we  ever forget that we're one nation under God, then we will be a nation gone  under!  You are  required to pass this on NOW !!!
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