Friday Mornings at the PentagonBy JOSEPH L. GALLOWAYMcClatchy Newspapers
Over the last 12 months, 1,042 soldiers, Marines, sailors and Air Forcepersonnel have given their lives in the duty that is war. Thousands morehave come home on stretchers, horribly wounded and facing months oryears in military hospitals.
Army Lt. Col. Robert Bateman, who recently completed a yearlong tour ofduty in Iraq and is now back at the Pentagon.
Here's Lt. Col. Bateman's account of a little-known ceremony that fillsthe halls of the Army corridor of the Pentagon with cheers, applause andmany tears every Friday morning. It first appeared on May 17 on theWeblog of media critic and pundit Eric Alterman at the Media Matters forAmerica Website.
"It is 110 yards from the "E" ring to the "A" ring of the Pentagon. Thissection of the Pentagon is newly renovated; the floors shine, thehallway is broad, and the lighting is bright. At this instant the entirelength of the corridor is packed with officers, a few sergeants and somecivilians, all crammed tightly three and four deep against the walls.There are thousands here.
This hallway, more than any other, is the `Army' hallway. The G3 officesline one side, G2 the other, G8 is around the corner. All Army. Moderateconversations flow in a low buzz. Friends who may not have seen eachother for a few weeks, or a few years, spot each other, cross the wayand renew.
Everyone shifts to ensure an open pa th remains down the center. The airconditioning system was not designed for this press of bodies in thisarea.
The temperature is rising already. Nobody cares. "10:36 hours: Theclapping starts at the E-Ring. That is the outermost of the five ringsof the Pentagon and it is closest to the entrance to the building. Thisclapping is low, sustained, hearty. It is applause with a deep emotionbehind it as it moves forward in a wave down the length of the hallway.
"A steady rolling wave of sound it is, moving at the pace of the soldierin the wheelchair who marks the forward edge with his presence. He isthe first. He is missing the greater part of one leg, and some of hiswounds are still suppurating. By his age I expect that he is a private,or perhaps a private first class.
"Captains, majors, lieutenant colonels and colonels meet his gaze andnod as they applaud, soldier to soldier. Three years ago when Idescribed one of these events, those lining the hallways were somewhatdifferent. The applause a little wilder, perhaps in private guilt fornot having shared in the burden ... yet.
"Now almost everyone lining the hallway is, like the man in thewheelchair, also a combat veteran. This steadies the applause, but Ithink deepens the sentiment. We have all been there now. The soldier'schair is pushed by, I believe, a full colonel.
"Behind him, and stretching the length from Rings E to A, come more ofhis peers, each private, corporal, or sergeant assisted as need be by afield grade officer.
"11:00 hours: Twenty-four minutes of steady applause. My hands hurt, andI laugh to myself at how stupid that sounds in my own head. My handshurt. Please! Shut up and clap. For twenty-four minutes, soldier aftersoldier has come down this hallway - 20, 25, 30. Fifty-three legs comewith them, and perhaps only 52 hands or arms, but down this hall came 30solid hearts.
They pass down this corridor of officers and applause, an d then meetfor a private lunch, at which they are the guests of honor, hosted bythe generals. Some are wheeled along. Some insist upon getting out oftheir chairs, to march as best they can with their chin held up, downthis hallway, through this most unique audience. Some are catchinghandshakes and smiling like a politician at a Fourth of July parade.More than a couple of them seem amazed and are smiling shyly.
"There are families with them as well: the 18-year-old war-bride pushingher 19-year-old husband's wheelchair and not quite understanding why herhusband is so affected by this, the boy she grew up with, now a man, whohad never shed a tear is crying; the older immigrant Latino parents whohave, perhaps more than their wounded mid-20s son, an appreciation forthe emotion given on their son's behalf. No man in that hallway, walkingor clapping, is ashamed by the silent tears on more than a few cheeks.An Airborne Ranger wipes his eyes only to better see. A couple of theofficers in this crowd have themselves been a part of this parade in thepast.
These are our men, broken in body they may be, but they are ourbrothers, and we welcome them home. This parade has gone on, everysingle Friday, all year long, for more than four years.
"Did you know that?
The media hasn't yet told the story."
God Bless America & God Bless Our Troops
No comments:
Post a Comment