He Guards With Honor

He stood there straight and tall, eyes forward, perfectly still as the mournful sound of Taps whispered through the cool morning mist. Another young soldier, lying silent in a flag-draped box, is put to eternal rest in Arlington National Cemetery. The grieving widow watches as the flag is folded before her in perfect precision into a tight red, white, and blue triangle, stars on top. He hears the command, jerks to attention, and fires his weapon along with the others in his detail. The crack of the blasts pierces the fog and causes some to recoil like the rifles in the arms of the Honor Guard. But the young soldiers do not flinch. They have practiced this duty so many times they could probably do it in their sleep. Sometimes it seems as if they do. He learned early on not to look at the families of the honored dead. Widows, young and old, crying stoically, sometimes children who don’t seem to know what has happened to their fathers, brothers – no, he couldn't look at them. Three shots fired, the soldiers retire their weapons in unison. Perfect. At least to him it was perfect. He didn't make any mistakes, his uniform was pressed, his shoes polished, his buttons shone in what there was of the sun filtering through the clods. His commander should be satisfied. Dan hoped there would be no late practices tonight.

After the last of five funerals was over, the detail returned to base at Fort Myer, Virginia. Fort Myer is the home of the “Old Guard”, the 3rd U.S. Infantry, the oldest active-duty infantry unit in the Army. Founded in 1784, the Old Guard has served our nation as the official Honor Guard since World War II. Members serve as escort to the president, and conduct military ceremonies at the White House, the Pentagon, and national memorials. They march in official parades, guard the Tomb of the Unknowns, and provide funeral escorts at Arlington Cemetery. The Old Guard is also ready and able to defend our nation’s Capitol in the event of an emergency. They fire 21 gun salutes, as Dan had done along with his firing party today. He had made his parents proud when he was chosen to be in the 3rd Infantry when he was stationed at Fort Dix, New Jersey. Then a young nineteen-year-old private in basic training, Dan was chosen because he was over six feet tall, had no criminal record, and was of good character. Requirements for the Guard are to be in excellent physical condition, reach the height of between 5’10 and 6’4, meet weight regulations, and be proficient in soldiering skills. Dan met all those requirements and more. He was now twenty-one and in the last year of his two-year duty.

After the guys from the firing detail got back to their barracks, they talked about how the long hours of practice in the cold April showers had paid off today while they readied their uniforms for tomorrow. They were feeling rather proud. Sure they were the second string, the back up to the Honor Guard Company of the “The Old Guard”, but just because they weren't the top company, didn't mean they weren't as good at what they did. Their C.O. was out to show the higher ups that their company could out-perform the top company any day. So perfect or not, they would not be excused from practice this afternoon. They had fired at five funerals today in their full blue uniform. They had even had to wear their overcoats. That always made handling their weapons more difficult, but they had prevailed. Tonight they could relax. Talk turned to a more pleasant subject – girls.

“I heard that a group of college girls from Tennessee was going to be at the Spirit program tonight,” one of his buddies said, grinning. Dan looked up at his friend and nodded. “Yeah, I heard that too, this morning at mess. They’re staying at the motel across the street from the base.” “How in the world do you know that?” asked Malcolm, one of the guys from his barracks. “Ken was bragging that he was going over there after the show to meet some of them”. Ken was named appropriately. He was one of the top company members, six-foot-three, blonde, muscular – the ideal of all the Barbies out there. Dan wasn't grinning. Malcolm jabbed him in the ribs, “We’ll get there first! He’ll have to get changed after the show, and we can find the girls after the program and escort them back across the highway to the motel before he has time to get there!” Dan smiled slightly and nodded, then lowered his head with disappointment. “What’s the matter, you scared of beating Ken at his own game?” “No, I’m on C.Q., (charge of quarters) tonight,” Dan said gloomily. “ Wouldn't you know I’d be the one who’ll be sitting up watching an empty barracks while all of you are out partying.” Malcolm and John slapped him on the back and shook their heads. “We’ll tell you all about it tomorrow kid”.

After a long day of funeral detail, marching, preparing his uniform for tomorrow, and a long night of C.Q. duty, Dan finally heard Malcolm’s laughter and his loud footsteps in the hall. It was his duty to quiet him down, but he wanted to hear all the details. Malcolm was tired and needed to get some rest, so he just grinned and punched Dan in the shoulder and said, “You shoulda seen Ken. He’s a natural with the ladies. They just swoon at his feet.” Then he pushed off and went toward his bunk. “Southern girls – I just love to hear them talk”. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, with a contented look on his face. Dan was left to his own thoughts on the subject.