Rendering Honors

Today a Fallen Hero returned from Afghanistan.

I don't know his name. I don't know his rank. I don't know how he died. I don't know how old he was.

All I know is that he was in the Army, and he was killed in action not long ago.

We were sitting around the office at the hangar today when we got the news. A Fallen Hero was returning within the hour, and we were to stand along the route of the procession and render honors as the procession passed.

All of the joking ceased. Everyone became somber, and the attitudes adjusted to pure professionalism. At that moment, we were Marines and Sailors, with personalities faded to the background, and ready to pay our respects to a fallen brother.

After a briefing, we lined up along the main road through the base, the road that was to serve as parade route for the funeral procession. As we made our way to the street, I was shocked to see how many people were joining us. Every uniformed serviceman and service woman, and more than few civilians were lined up from the landing site to the main gate. Over a distance of almost two miles, there were maybe a few hundred feet that weren't lined with military personnel. Officers and enlisted, Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines, all were joined in one accord this day.

When the procession left the tarmac and entered the roadway, Gunny called us to attention and gave the commands to render honors. We brought up slow salutes in unison, and every member of the platoon stood ramrod straight, eyes forward, and held those salutes in respect of our fallen brother until the very last member of the honor guard had passed.

As professional and somber as we were, we were not unaffected. When the fallen soldier passed, our thoughts were of honor, and duty, and sacrifice. When his family passed, our thoughts--or at least my thoughts--turned to empathy for his family. Watching his mother, grandmother, sisters, and other relatives crying and thanking us through the car windows, I felt a pain for their loss, and a sense of pride that they would know their son was not forgotten.

I think many of us also stood aware that "There, but for the grace of God, go I."

I know that I can't convey what we felt on this day, and I'm not trying to type some sobering reminder to "think about the cost of freedom," or anything like that. I just wanted to share, and I wanted you to know that heroes are real, and their sacrifices are real, and though they have given all, they are not, and will not be forgotten.