The Jump Blog

I have spoken before on how I wholeheartedly believe that the farce called ‘Winter Soldier” influenced an entire generation of Americans. It set in stone what they believed the Army was, what war was, what soldiers did, and how they were trained. Go back and watch M*A*S*H*, Simon and Simon, Miami Vice, Hill Street Blues, Riptide, Cagney and Lacey, Spencer for Hire, Tour of Duty, China Beach, WKRP, and whatever else.

I guarantee you there will be a maladjusted Vietnam Vet in them. They will be maladjusted because the Army and the government didn’t care.

We see the same tack being used today. Protesters down in Crawford yell slogans that imply that you can’t possibly care about soldiers wellbeing unless you oppose service in the military. This belief is predicated on the belief that the Army can not possibly care about its soldiers as anything other than fodder.

Therein lies the disconnect.

Any soldier who has ever been a part of any military funeral knows that, as with many things, the military strives to set themselves apart from the norm. I have unfortunately been to several military funerals and I can tell you that they outshine civilian funerals in reverence for the dead. The hardest thing a soldier can sit through is “last roll call” with the wife and kids and parents sitting in the front row. When they blow “taps” in that chapel there is no doubt in your mind of the significance of the event.

But isn’t this just so much stage dressing, used to motivate and shore up soldiers in time of war?

No. It isn’t. We do it everyday in peace time or in war. We honor our dead. In 1998 I was honored to participate in the full honors burial of 2nd LT. Jesse Barrick. Lt. Barrick was being buried in a cemetery near my home and I was honored to act as part of the rifle detail. Lt. Barrick had earned the Congressional Medal of Honor for his service so it was especially poignant.

Several hundred people, most of them veterans, showed up that rainy afternoon in November . I did the best I could. I snapped, I held, I moved deliberately but sharply, I moved in unison.

As Lt. Barrick was lowered into the ground I let my tears go, but only a little. Just a bit of a leak. I’m sure the attendees didn’t see it. I didn’t care so much for my pride, but I wanted to be the best man I could for Lt. Barrick, as I had been for several other funerals, so I tried to hold it back. Paratroopers don’t sob at funerals, we just leak a little.

I did it, though it was hard, but he knew I cared.

My father-in-law was there. He was a three tour of duty Marine in Vietnam with 1st MARDIV. My brother-in-law was there, he was a Marine on the Presidential detail for several years. His Dad was a Marine in the Pacific, and now his son is at 29 Palms. They cared enough to come out and help bury this Army LT who did everything he could, so we all sent him on his way.

I practiced for two hours a day, every day for two weeks. They came down along with hundreds of other vets to make sure that that LT didn’t have to march home alone. And he didn’t.

LT Barrick, who earned the Medal of Honor in 1863 as Corporal Barrick of H CO, 3rd Minnesota; who rose through the ranks to Lieutenant; who was presented with the Medal of Honor 44 years after his deed; who died in an unmarked grave; was never forgotten. His service was never dismissed. Not only was he not forgotten 135 years later, but because he fought for us, men were still willing to fight for him in order to have him buried in a proper manner by his brothers.

Don’t tell me the Army doesn’t care because I am the Army and I still care centuries later.

Tracked back at:

Mudville
Where I Stand
Froggy’s Place

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