I got this in my email box a few days ago, and set it aside to try and verify its source. I didn’t get around to it (as I should have) and Blackfive beat me to it.
So let me send you over there to see how typical Americans react to our war dead, at the recent funeral of a Marine.
I post this both as a way of showing my own regard for our troops, those alive and well and those who are not, and as a cautionary reminder to those who may share many of my politics, but not my respect for the troops and the cause in which they fight.
The service was a fitting tribute to this hero. When it was over, we stood as the casket was wheeled out with the family following. The casket was placed onto a horse-drawn carriage for the mile-long trip from the gym, down the main street, then up the steep hill to the cemetery. I stood alone and saluted as the carriage departed the high school. I found my car and joined Chance’s convoy.
The town seemingly went from the gym to the street. All along the route, the people had lined the street and were waving small American flags. The flags that were otherwise posted were all at half-staff. For the last quarter mile up the hill, local boy scouts, spaced about 20 feet apart, all in uniform, held large flags. At the foot of the hill, I could look up and back and see the enormity of our procession. I wondered how many people would be at this funeral if it were in, say, Detroit or Los Angeles—probably not as many as were here in little Dubois, Wyoming.
I’m not sure that’s true. But even the fact that it might be is a damn shame.
Regardless of how we feel about Bush or Kerry, regardless of whether we agree with the decision to go to war, we all owe the men and women in uniform our regard and affection.