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Now, that is Honor

1K views 16 replies 17 participants last post by  bobcat35 
#1 ·
OK, I am not a Marine, I did my time in the Army. Still, when somebody from the range sent this to me and I read it, it brought tears to my eyes. I do not know whether this actually happened or not, but I do know that there are families who have made this kind of a sacrifice. I just wish that more people today would think about it and realize what it means, not just to us but to them as well, to have families like this that are willing to make sacrifices for our country and our way of life.

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Now, that is Honor ... and there are too many people in this country who no longer understand it.

I just wanted to get the day over with and go down to Smokey's for a few cold ones. 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 -- and both way 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 bitte r 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 just hurry the old gal along, we might make the last half of happy hour at Smokey's. 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 to o 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 as it 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 bunches 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 s lowly 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 one 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 just 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 JUST 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 to attention next to the gate post. 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 quite sure ... but I think I saw ... a BIG salute returned from that Cadillac!

Instead of 'The End' ... just think of 'Taps'.

Please 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.' Amen.

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! I'm sure you might want to pass this one along to a few friends ... Semper Fi !!
 
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#2 ·
Sorry about your monitor ... it made mine blurry too!
This must be a computer virus, it made mine blurry too. These kinds of stories hit me, and I hope this is true. But even if it isn't it speaks volumes to the dedication and honor our servicemen, and more so their families, have towards this country and to freedom in general.

Thanks for sharing.
 
#5 ·
Even if that particular story isn't true, we all know that there are older women and men out there who have suffered the kind of losses that old lady suffered, because of service to our country by members of their families.

Thanks for sharing. Although it is always good to be reminded, I have a strong sense by having been on this forum for awhile, that it is not the members here who need the reminder. And I will stop here so that I don't say what I really would like to say, but would get me in trouble.
 
#11 ·
I can trace my families military service back to WWI, my grandfather served in the Navy, my dad and uncles all served in WWII in either the Navy or Army. I had uncles who served in Korea, and cousins, who like me served during Viet Nam. I also served during Panama, Granada and the first Gulf War.
My family was lucky. No one ever recieved the dreaded telegram, or knock on the door in the middle of the night.
My prayer is in the future the tradition of serves to God and Country with Honor will continue.

To all of the fallen soldiers and their familys. May God always look over you and grant you peace.
 
#14 ·
Thank you.

Thank you to the men and women that have served, both in wartime and peacetime. We are able to enjoy the things we do and love the one's we do because of you and your service.

I think I have something in my eye.

Biker :palmier:
 
#16 ·
Damn, that was a tear jerker. I tried to explain the sacrifice to my son who is a 4th generation soldier what his decision to join means. This explains it all. Luckily my family has not had this kind of sacrifice, but we are prepared nonetheless. God bless all of our service members past and present!!
 
#17 ·
may our fallen comrades in all the armed services enjoy hot chow and cold beer as they rest in valhalla and fiddlers green.
 
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