Cemetery Watchman

[ddavelarsen]

I got this in email today, just thought I'd share.

Ijust 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 minutesto go before the cemetery gates are closed for the day. Fulldress was hot in the August sun. Oklahoma summertime was as badas ever--the heat and humidity at the same level--both too high.

Isaw the car pull into the drive, a '69 or '70 model CadillacDeville, looked factory-new. It pulled into the parking lot ata snail's pace.. An old woman got out so slowly I thought shewas paralyzed; she had a cane and a sheaf of flowers--about four orfive bunches as best I could tell.

Icouldn't help myself. The thought came unwanted, and left aslightly bitter taste: 'She's going to spend an hour, and for thisold soldier, my hip hurts like hell and I'm ready to get out of hereright now!' But for this day, my duty was to assist anyonecoming in.

Kevinwould lock the 'In' gate and if I could hurry the old biddy along, wemight make it to Smokey's in time.

Ibroke post attention. My hip made gritty noises when I took thefirst step and the pain went up a notch. I must have madea real military sight: middle-aged man with a small pot gut and halfa limp, in marine full-dress uniform, which had lost its razor creaseabout thirty minutes after I began the watch at the cemetery.

Istopped in front of her, halfway up the walk. She looked up at mewith an old woman's squint.

'Ma'am,may I assist you in any way?'

Shetook long enough to answer.

'Yes,son. Can you carry these flowers? I seem to be moving a tad slowthese days.'

'Mypleasure, ma'am.' Well, it wasn't too much of a lie.

Shelooked again. 'Marine, where were you stationed?'

'Vietnam,ma'am.. Ground-pounder. '69 to '71.'

Shelooked at me closer. 'Wounded in action, I see. Welldone, Marine. I'll be as quick as I can.'

Ilied a little bigger: 'No hurry, ma'am.'

Shesmiled and winked at me. 'Son, I'm 85-years-old and I can tella lie from a long way off.. Let's get this done. Might bethe last time I can do this. My name's Joanne Wieserman, andI've a few Marines I'd like to see one more time.'

'Yes,ma 'am. At your service.'

Sheheaded for the World War I section, stopping at a stone. Shepicked one of the flowers out of my arm and laid it on top of thestone. She murmured something I couldn't quite makeout.. The name on the marble was Donald S. Davidson, USMC:France 1918.

Sheturned away and made a straight line for the World War II section,stopping at one stone. I saw a tear slowly tracking its waydown her cheek. She put a bunch on a stone; the name was Stephen X.Davidson, USMC, 1943.

Shewent up the row a ways and laid another bunch on a stone, Stanley J. Wieserman, USMC, 1944.

Shepaused for a second. 'Two more, son, and we'll be done'

Ialmost didn't say anything, but, 'Yes, ma'am. Take your time.'

Shelooked confused.. 'Where's the Vietnam section, son? I seem to have lost my way.'

Ipointed with my chin. 'That way, ma'am.'

'Oh!',she chuckled quietly. 'Son, me and old age ain't toofriendly.'

Sheheaded down the walk I'd pointed at. She stopped at a couple ofstones before she found the ones she wanted. She placed a bunchon Larry Wieserman, USMC, 1968, and the last on DarrelWieserman, USMC, 1970. She stood there and murmured a few wordsI 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?'

Shepaused. 'Yes, Donald Davidson was my father, Stephen was my uncle, Stanley was my husband, Larry and Darrel were our sons. All killed inaction, all Marines.'

Shestopped. Whether she had finished, or couldn't finish, I don'tknow. She made her way to her car, slowly and painfully.

Iwaited for a polite distance to come between us and then double-timedit over to Kevin, waiting by the car.

Getto the 'Out' gate quick.. I have something I've got to do.'

Kevinstarted to say something, but saw the look I gave him. He brokethe 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.' Ihumped it across the drive to the other post.

Whenthe Cadillac came puttering around from the hedges and began theshort straight traverse to the gate, I called in my best gunny'svoice: 'TehenHut! Present Haaaarms!'

Ihave to hand it to Kevin; he never blinked an eye-- full dressattention and a salute that would make his DI proud.

Shedrove through that gate with two old worn-out soldiers giving her asend-off she deserved, for service rendered to her country, and forknowing duty, honor and sacrifice.

Iam not sure, but I think I saw a salute returned from that Cadillac.

[Jeanna]

made me cry

[Brian]

Some people still know what RESPECT and HONOR are all about.

Thanks for sharing Dave.

Edited May 22, 2010 by Brian

[nana]

Wonderful. Thanks for that one, Dave.

[DevilDucky]

Thanks for sharing this with us Dave.

[vapemudgeon]

Dave,

With difficulty, through tears, I say thank you to them, to her and to you......GOD BLESS AMERICA !!!!!!!!!!

[ddavelarsen]

Wow Vape thanks; that made it worthwhile.

[snubber]

Thanks for sharing Dave....some things are just worth remembering, like Honor and Duty to our country. Thank You.

[FTJoe]

Nice story about respect and honor...

[Thunderpawz14]

Thanks for sharing. My kids call me a Cemetary Crawler, I stop at all graves with Military Markers including my Dad's GrandDad and GrandMom, many, many Uncles, G-Uncles and cousins. My hubby was in a brother and son. More made it home than not since the Revolution but my heart bleeds for anyone who did not.

Buffy said it all in'64

She didn't in any way mean it was the fault of the soldier...only those who gives order to do it the wrong way, for the wrong reasons.