Fridays at the Pentagon
SOME
MAY HAVE SEEN THIS BUT JUST IN CASE AND FOR THOSE WHO MAY NOT HAVE SEEN
IT â THIS IS REALLY A TRIBUTE â WELL DESERVED!!!!!!!
Happens every Friday. Did you know?
It
really breaks my heart to know that we didn't know this goes on every
Friday, well at least I didn't know. Instead, I guess the media feels
it's more important to report on Tiger Wood with his car accident,
or Brittany Spears losing weight and getting married for the 4th time,
or football players betting on dogs, or endless stories about
Michael Jackson. I hope this article gives you a sense of pride of what
our men and women are doing for us, everyday, as they serve in the
armed forces here and abroad.
_______________________________
IT HAPPENS EVERY FRIDAY! Were you aware?
Mornings at the Pentagon
By JOSEPH L. GALLOWAY
McClatchy Newspapers
Over the last 12 months, 1,042 soldiers, Marines, sailors and Air Force
personnel have given their lives in the terrible duty that is war.
Thousands more have come home on stretchers, horribly wounded and
facing months or years in military hospitals.
This week, I'm
turning my space over to a good friend and former roommate, Army Lt.
Col. Robert Bateman, who recently completed a year long tour of duty in Iraq and is now back at the Pentagon.
Here's Lt. Col. Bateman's account of a little-known ceremony that fills
the halls of the Army corridor of the Pentagon with cheers,
applause and many tears every Friday morning. It first appeared on May
17 on the Weblog of media critic and pundit Eric Alterman at the Media Matters for America Website.
"It is 110 yards from the "E" ring to the "A" ring of the
Pentagon. This section of the Pentagon is newly renovated; the floors
shine, the hallway is broad, and the lighting is bright. At this
instant the entire length of the corridor is packed with officers, a
few sergeants and some civilians, 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 offices
line one side, G2 the other, G8 is around the corner. All Army.
Moderate conversations flow in a low buzz. Friends who may not have
seen each other for a few weeks, or a few years, spot each other, cross
the way and renew.
Everyone shifts to ensure an open path
remains down the center. The air conditioning system was not designed
for this press of bodies in this area.
The temperature is
rising already. Nobody cares. "10:36 hours: The clapping starts at the
E-Ring. That is the outermost of the five rings of the Pentagon and it
is closest to the entrance to the building. This clapping is low,
sustained, hearty. It is applause with a deep emotion behind 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 soldier
in the wheelchair who marks the forward edge with his presence. He is
the first. He is missing the greater part of one leg, and some of
his wounds 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 and nod as they
applaud, soldier to soldier. Three years ago when I described one of
these events, those lining the hallways were somewhat different. The
applause a little wilder, perhaps in private guilt for not having
shared in the burden ... yet.
"Now almost everyone lining
the hallway is, like the man in the wheelchair, also a combat veteran.
This steadies the applause, but I think deepens the sentiment. We have
all been there now. The soldier's chair is pushed by, I believe, a full
colonel.
"Behind him, and stretching the length from Rings E
to A, come more of his peers, each private, corporal, or sergeant
assisted as need be by a field grade officer.
"11:00 hours:
Twenty-four minutes of steady applause. My hands hurt, and I laugh to
myself at how stupid that sounds in my own head. My hands hurt. Please!
Shut up and clap. For twenty-four minutes, soldier after soldier has
come down this hallway - 20, 25, 30.. Fifty-three legs come with them,
and perhaps only 52 hands or arms, but down this hall came 30 solid
hearts.
They pass down this corridor of officers and applause, and then
meet for a private lunch, at which they are the guests of honor, hosted
by the generals. Some are wheeled along. Some insist upon getting out
of their chairs, to march as best they can with their chin held up,
down this hallway, through this most unique audience. Some are catching
handshakes 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 pushing her 19-year-old husband's wheelchair and not quite
understanding why her husband is so affected by this, the boy she grew
up with, now a man, who had never shed a tear is crying; the older
immigrant Latino parents who have, perhaps more than their wounded
mid-20s son, an appreciation for the emotion given on their son's
behalf. No man in that hallway, walking or 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 the officers in this crowd have
themselves been a part of this parade in the past.
These are
our men, broken in body they may be, but they are our brothers, and we
welcome them home. This parade has gone on, every single Friday, all
year long, for more than four years.
"Did you know that?
Don't send it back to me, just send it on its way as you see fit.
There is no distinctly native American criminal class...save Congress
Mark Twain
What this country needs are more unemployed politicians.
Edward Langley, Artist (1928-1995)