In The Garden
My Time At Arlington
By
Jerry Wayne Humphrey
Authors Notes
This book is a collection of events that I remember from the time I spent in The Old Guard. I was a somewhat naïve country boy when in 1967 I was drafted into the army. The events are as I remember them and as close to accurate as I can be about those things that happened that long ago. I have changed some things such as the names of individuals in order to protect those who may not wish to be named herein.
I consider the time I served in the 3rd Inf. As one of the best times in my life and it is an honor to have served there and to have not only witnessed but to have been a part of some of these historical events.
The soldiers of The Old Guard are of the highest caliber of soldiers anywhere. I appreciate such organizations as The Old Guard Association for honoring those Old Guard Soldiers both past and present and for providing us with a way to keep in contact with each other and keep up on the changes happening and keep track of those who have departed. Although they are gone they will be always remembered for they are our brothers.
In The Garden
My Time At Arlington
By
Jerry Wayne Humphrey
Chapters
In The Garden
Once A Soldier
Midnight In The Garden
The Naked Soldier
Arriving
Settling In
Spit and Polish
New Guy Training
My Mom Called
Trial By Fire
Weeping Willie
One Lone Soldier
Communications
Foxhole Telephone
Sunday Paper
Go Home Country Boy
The Mailman’s Emergency
Silent Sentry
Midnight Burial
The Old General
A Fallen Prince
Rooftop Recon
Surprise Inspection
The Eyes
The First Sergeant And The Young LT
Power Blackouts
Meeting The President
City On Fire
Inauguration
The Commander
The Old General Goes Home
Thank You Sir
Characters
Short Timer
Going Home
My Last Day
In The Garden
I have been there in the Garden
That place soldiers know so well
They have earned their piece of heaven
For they have all spent their time in hell
Those resting there lie peacefully
In quiet dignity
Having given their lives so we may live free
They suffered so much
For war is such a terrible thing
Now they rest with more honor and dignity
Than any forgotten king
Here they will always be honored
And remembered
Forever young forever free
Their graves stretch out before me
As vast as the sea
I have spent my time here in the garden
And with me its memories will always be
And when I am gone away
Maybe they will save a place for me
Once A Soldier
Once I was a soldier, I stood straight,
I felt proud, I walked tall
When my country asked me
I was proud to answer to its call
My people had always been soldiers,
As far back as we knew
My father was a soldier
And grandfather he was too
My folks were soldiers
When our country started out
We fought for justice and freedom,
Duty, honor, and country we did shout
We proudly did our duty for we knew
We must to remain free
I was proud to wear a uniform,
It was an honor gladly bore by me
I learned to fight and be a soldier
When some hid or ran away
I said a prayer that if my life I give
Let not it be today
I went on and proudly did my part.
Many a friend did die and I felt it in my heart
But that’s the price you pay for freedom
It’s the line you must cross
No one wants to have to die you see
But some must pay the price for freedom
So the rest can live free
Now I am gray, and bent and old and I can’t stand as tall
But when I hear, to arms,
I feel the urge to answer the call
I stand as straight as I can
When the anthem it does play
For in my heart I am still a soldier,
Until my captain calls me home some day
Proud I’ll be when he says welcome soldier,
You have passed your test
You are promoted to a new rank now, but first take a rest.
Your many friends and family are waiting here for you
Your love has waited long just to have you near
Celebrate with us now; let no one shed a tear
Your job down there is finished
And now your home is here.
Midnight in The Garden
It is midnight in the Garden,
Now all is quiet, all is still
Save for a lone figure, there walking on the hill
He watches intently as all around him are asleep
They know he’s there with them
And it’s his watch to keep
Though no one is there to see him
As he keeps his vigil on the hill
He walks his post with honor,
Never stopping never still
Then another comes to relieve him there
And walk the post until
Another relieves him too
And on and on it goes you see
This post is a post of honor
And always there must be
A sentry here walking to honor those who died
To keep us free
Though he walks alone he is in the
Company of friends you see
Each man here is a brother,
Soldiers like you and me
They are a part of him now
As they will always be
For all pledged their lives for one another
So that we may live free
This is the price of freedom
This is the price of liberty
There will always be a soldier walking
In the garden here you see
He walks here in honor and with dignity
He walks here for you and he walks here for me.
The Naked Soldier
I had just arrived and reported into my assigned unit, the third infantry, The Old Guard. I arrived on a Friday afternoon and there was only the duty sergeant to welcome me in, the rest of the unit was off for the weekend. After I had signed into the unit I was given a meal card, a short briefing on the do’s and don’ts and shown to the transient quarters. The transient quarters were just a wall locker, a bunk and bedding, and the area was in the basement of the building. There were about twenty bunks in the room and only those in transit or on duty were there. I was given my pass card and told that if I went anywhere for the weekend to be sure to be back for Monday morning formation.
Since I had no money to speak of I spent time looking the place over some and being very tired from traveling turned in early. Sometime around eleven that night I started to get up to see what the matter was. Suddenly the upstairs door flew open and someone jumped down the stairs falling on the floor at the bottom. I looked and he was naked.
Then two men jumped out of their bunks, grabbed the
man and threw him into an empty bunk and covered him up, then quickly got back in bed. Then two men in uniform with flashlights came down the stairs, as I peeked through partially closed eyes I saw that they were M.P. s better known as the military police. They took a quick look around and seeing no one out of place said to each other, no one here he must have gone out the front or upstairs.
I lay quiet like all the rest as silent as a mouse until at last all sounds had stopped. The naked man turned over and said, I did it, I did it, I won. The two men who had picked him up got up, went over to him, and gave him some clothes and a paper sack. He opened the bag and began to take out money and count it as he quickly got dressed. He counted over seventy-five dollars, put the money in his pocket and finished dressing and left. As he left the men said to him better get gone before they come back.
It wasn’t until the next morning that I found out what it was all about. It seems that the man had just finished his tour of duty overseas and was here for outprocessing. It being the weekend he wanted to go on pass like the rest of the guys but had no money. The guys with him who were also waiting to outprocess got together and made a bet that whoever would run naked across the highway in front of the post, in the gate past the M.P. and get away would win. Each person put into the paper bag what they could spare and this was to be the prize for whoever did it successfully. Well he took the bet and was driven out the gate and across the street, and the highway to a parking lot facing the post.
It was winter and very cold out. But the man got undressed and when the way was clear got out of the car and took off across the highway and through the gate. The M.P. couldn’t believe his eyes by what he saw and couldn’t leave his post so he called for assistance. The responding M.P.‘s gave chase and what I saw was when he jumped down the stairs.
I thought what kind of unit have I gotten myself into here. I was to learn that these were not Old Guard Soldiers but soldiers returning stateside from their combat assignment and were waiting to go home. Sometimes when returning from such an ordeal as combat you learned to keep your mental sanity and
alertness by doing unusual or sometimes like this crazy things.
There were many other things I was to learn here but this was my first night in The Old Guard and I will never forget the sight of that tall naked man coming out of the dark.
Arriving
The next morning not knowing what to expect after last nights activities, I got up early to take a look around. Since it was the weekend I was allowed to sign out on pass for the remainder of the weekend. This meant that I could go anywhere within a two hundred fifty mile radius. I was also informed that anyone in the barracks not signed out on pass could and probably would end up on various details such as KP, which stands for kitchen police, meaning cleaning the dining facility and washing the pots and pans and such. I knew about this and took the hint and made sure to stay out of sight as much as possible.
I didn’t know anyone here so I put my bedding in my wall locker, along with my other belongings. I took out the only civilian clothes I had, which was a pair of jeans and a shirt and got dressed and signed out on pass. I looked over the company area and read the posted rules and such to help orient myself. After this I decided to look around and took a walk around the post, making notes on where things were. It was a beautiful place with lush green grass and trees and beautiful flowers everywhere. The barracks of the companies looked like old southern mansions three stories high and had obviously been there a long time. I walked across the parade field and even took a brief look at the post chapel and the cemetery, Arlington National Cemetery. It was a huge place and although I was to spend much time there during my stay I wouldn’t see it all.
Well it was getting to be lunchtime and I went back to the company area to have lunch. The mess hall was more like a friendly little café with wooden tables and the tables even had tablecloths on them. I took what was called short order, which was cheeseburgers and French fries, and a large cola with ice and even had a piece of apple pie for desert. It was quite a change from what I had been having since I came into the army. After lunch, I decided to go into the city, Washington D. C. and not knowing my way around here yet I walked out the front gate and flagged down the local taxi, I remember it had a little red diamond on it but everyone called them the red top cab. When asked where I wanted to go I just said downtown. He asked me where downtown and since I didn’t know I decided on the Salvation Army because they had a service mans lounge there and I could get a map of the area and talk with some other soldiers and find out what it was like here. I talked a bit with them and even played a friendly game of pool, and they told me some interesting places to check out. Some of them were close by like the wax museum and even a local bar that wasn’t too bad so they said. The wax museum was great, lots of history there including history of the unit I was now a part of.
Later on I would have a chance to even wear some of those old uniforms. After the wax museum I checked out the bar I had been told of, it was a nice quaint little pub and went on my way. I found a little theatre and watched a movie, it was named To Sir With Love, and strangely enough, it was the last movie I had seen before I had gotten drafted into the army. This time though instead of watching it with a girlfriend I just sat there by myself, it was still hard to get used to the reality of where I was at and that now I was truly a soldier.
After the movie, I noticed it was getting late so I headed back to the lounge and found out that there was a city bus that came by each hour and for fifty cents I could ride it and get back to base easily since it stopped at the gate.
I slipped into the barracks quietly and went to bed. The rest of the weekend, I pretty much spent in the barracks talking to other guys and just keeping out of sight. Sunday night I signed back in and got up early Monday morning and reported to the First Sergeants Office as I had been told to do.
The First Sergeant just told me that I was assigned to Bravo Company down the street and I was to report in to the First Sergeant there as soon as I had finished breakfast. I still wasn’t used to such treatment having just finished my basic and advanced training I was used to being told what to do and when and in not so nice a fashion either.
At breakfast, I was again surprised, not only did the food look and smell great but again I had a choice of what I wanted to eat. I couldn’t believe it when the cook asked me “how do you want your eggs”? I just said scrambled, as I couldn’t think of anything else at the time. There were so many good things to choose from, pancakes, waffles, French toast, sausage, bacon, milk, coffee, orange juice and you could even go back for seconds if you wanted to. The mess sergeant had a simple rule which was posted in big letters just inside of the doors as you entered the mess hall. It read, “no one leaves here hungry so take all you want but remember you must eat all you take”.
Wow, I had only been in the army for about five months now, but so much had happened since I left home. I had changed from the young kid I had been then and now I was a soldier. Not only that but I had been chosen to become a member of the most elite and honored unit of all The Old Guard.
Yes, I had come a long way for a country boy born in
rural Alabama. Little did I know that there was still a
long way to go.
Settling In
I was assigned to Bravo Company and sent to report to the First Sergeant. I was not the only one reporting in there were three others there waiting when I got there. We all stood up when the First Sergeant came in. He was a tough looking seasoned soldier and had that command presence that let all around him know that he was the boss. His name was Alouicious J. Brown, but below his nameplate on his desk were the letters BBB. We were later to find out they stood for Big Bravo Bulldog. And he was but everyone called him first sergeant.
He addressed us by our rank and last name and quickly let us know that we were to always address him as first sergeant or first sergeant brown, and never to use the term top. He said to us “gentlemen a top is a plaything that sits on the floor and goes around in circles and I am not a toy and not to be played with”.
Having said that he gave us the usual information such as the name of the company commander, executive officer and such. He stood in front of us and shook our hands and said, “welcome and congratulations, you have been chosen to become part of the most elite unit in the world, The Old Guard. We are the president’s honor guard. What we do here reflects not only on us but on the president, the department of defense and the entire nation.”
He then turned to the intercom on his desk and called for a sergeant from the fourth platoon to come down and take charge of the new guys.
I was a newbie now, which meant new guy and would be considered new until I had been here a year and proven myself worthy. The fourth platoon was where all the new guys were assigned while in processing and being trained.
We were given a bunk a wall locker and a footlocker and told to change into our fatigue uniform and proceed to the supply room. At the supply room we were signed up for quartermaster laundry, issued our bedding, and signed for our field gear, or as we called it TA50. The field gear went in our footlocker to be placed on display. We were shown how to make our bunks and where to place our other things such as the laundry bag. We thought we knew how to make a military bunk by now but soon learned that here it must be extra sharp looking. Everything here was spit and polish and looked sharp at all times. We were told to take our dress uniforms including shirts and such and put them in a box and put them away, ship them home but not to wear them ever again while here.
We would be issued a new set of dress uniforms, not only the usual dress green, class a uniform, but also special dress blues as well. We would get a new issue of everything all of which would be tailored for us. So after making our bunks we were marched to the tailor shop to get fitted for our new uniforms.
We were measured from heel to toe and told we would get our new uniforms in about two or three weeks. We also signed up for new nametags, U.S. Army tags, unit patches and insignias and a whole new set of such things as dog tags, infantry brass, blue ropes, and new things called cockades and buff straps, we also got white dress gloves, both the summer kind and the winter kind and glove liners as well.
After taking all this stuff back to the barracks and putting it away, we were given written instructions on where all this stuff went, how to display it and how to care for it. We spent the rest of the day getting squared away as best we could. There were plenty of old guys around who were more than willing to show us the ropes so to speak so we took full advantage of this and tried to learn as much as we could.
Spit And Polish
The next few days were filled with learning all sorts of new things, and new ways of doing some old things. After spending months learning the basics of being a soldier I thought I was pretty well up on things, but I soon found out I had a lot more to learn about even the simple things. Like shining brass for instance. I knew how to use brasso to shine my belt buckles and the pins for my dress uniform. Even this was different here. The first thing we were shown was how to take the lacquer coating off our brass. We were shown how much better it would shine after the lacquer had been removed. For this task, you needed a large ashtray into which you put your brass, one piece at a time. You gave it a good coat of brasso, poured lighter fluid on it and set it on fire. You kept doing this until all the lacquer had burned off. Then you could use some fine steel wool to clean it and then you were ready to begin polishing it
Everyone had a large towel used only for this purpose. The things like belt buckles and tips you rubbed back and forth until it shone like gold. This was the easy part.
The more difficult pieces were the U.S. Army and branch insignia pins. For this, you had to purchase new pins that were in three pieces. The old one-piece brass was not used. Each was taken apart and each piece had the lacquer burned off them before you could start to polish them. The insignia for your branch and the U.S. were rubbed back and forth like the belt buckles were but the round back that they were mounted on when put together was another story indeed. To polish the round disk you would need additional items. You would need some masking tape, and a tent pole section. The tent pole
section was prepared by putting strips of masking tape across the wide end with the sticky side up and securing it with another strip of tape around. This left a flat sticky surface upon which you put the disk to be polished with the shiny side up. The tape held it in place so you could begin to polish it.
After putting some brasso on the towel, you took the tent pole section with the brass disk on it and placed the disk on the spot with the polish. Then you took the pole between your hands like a boy scout trying to start a fire and spun it back and forth. This was called spinning your brass. Some had a little hand drill they would use by placing one end of the pole into the drill and crank away until it was polished.
This spinning created small grooves on the surface of the disk, which gave it a unique look. There was another modification that would make it still more impressive and this was called popping the brass. This was done by placing the disk face down on the top of a coke bottle and gently tapping it with a ball peen hammer until it popped out. Of course, the insignia had to be modified to fit the curved surface but when completed it was impressive looking indeed. Pop brass was so unique looking that it was not used on all ceremonies but only for certain special ones.
Shining of shoes and boots was another task that had its own special twist. In addition to the regular spit shine technique, a final polishing was done with alcohol on a cotton ball. After you had secured the best possible shine, you would take a cotton ball and some clear liquid floor wax and gently coat the toes and heels with it. This would lock in the shine for several days if you were careful. This was quite a time saver indeed and made the boots and shoes look sharp.
Then there was the permanent shine. Everyone had at least one special pair of boots that were given what was called a permanent shine. For this, you first purchased the best boots you could get, the kind that the airborne soldiers wore. Along with the boots, you would purchase at least two pair of long leather laces. Then you took them to the shoe shop and had them given the Old Guard Buildup. This buildup was special to the unit and consisted of putting on new double thick leather soles. The heels were wood covered with leather. On the bottom of the boots were taps on the toes and large horseshoe taps on the bottom of the heels. In addition to this, a large metal plate was placed on the inside of the heels so when you came to attention they made a distinctive sound.
Then the boots had to be fitted to the wearer and this was done by putting on your boots and lacing them up tight and taking off your clothes and getting into the shower, and staying there until the boots were soaking wet. Then you wore them around until they were thoroughly dry. When leather gets wet, it stretches and when it dries, it shrinks down. So when the boots dry and shrink down they shrink down to fit your feet. Then you have a perfect fit for you and only your feet. It is a strange way to get a custom fit on a pair of boots but when they meant as much to you as they did to us and you had invested as much time and effort into them it was worth it.
Next, they had to be prepared for the permanent shine. This was done by painting the boots with a special rubber base paint that we ordered for this use only. It was a special order and came in half pint cans only. To prepare the boots for this paint was another chore. For this, you needed several different grades of sandpaper. You started with the rough type and sanded the toes and heels until they looked like hush puppies.
Then they were ready for painting. The special paint you applied with your finger. This was done so you could feel it go on and make sure it was into all the crevices and you got an even coat. Then they were left to dry thoroughly which took several days. Then you took the sandpaper again, sanded off the rough places, and repainted them again. This went on until you had several coats applied and each one got smoother and shinier until you finally had a permanent shine.
From then on all you had to do to keep them looking sharp was dust them off and once a week and put a little Vaseline on them and they were ready. This was all before they made patent leather shoes and boots. Toward the end of my stay in the old guard, we found a contact with a large shoe company who had them made for us out of patent leather. From then on, it was much easier indeed and the Army even started buying shoes made of patent leather and issuing them to us. However, this did not take place until I was leaving the unit.
The companies of the unit were each as self sufficient as possible. Each in addition to the usual sections for support had its own separate dining facility, supply, communications, arms room, mailroom, and even its own pressroom for pressing uniforms and a barbershop with a barber. The maximum length on hair was strict here as well, one half inch on the sides and one and a half on top. Before a ceremony, everyone got a trim just to make sure they looked sharp so the barber had his hands full. The barber was not a civilian or anything like that he was just a soldier like the rest of us, except he had the qualifications of a barber. The army did not provide the supplies he used so each of us put in a dollar each month to help pay for whatever supplies he needed. Not a bad price considering the number of times each month we were in to see him to keep looking good.
New Guy Training
We were all required to get special security clearances and until these came back approved we spent most of our time training. It was called drill and ceremonies and we would learn everything there was and then some.
Naturally, here there was a little different way of doing it though. Such as simply marching back and forth. In the old guard when you marched you marched in a special way, this was called the Old Guard Strut. When you marched, your upper body was rigid. There were no wasted movements and each move was sharp and precise. Your step had to be precisely the correct number of inches each time you made a step. This we learned by walking the line as we called it.
In the area where we practiced was a long white line. Across the line at precise intervals was a line across to show the precise length of step. You practiced walking the line until you could walk it blindfolded and make the correct length of step each and every time. After a while, it was automatic, even when just walking you would fall into the step. Your arm swing was also practiced until it was precise. So many inches to the front and so many inches to the rear each time. You learned to march in step with each other so much that when off duty just hanging out walking down the street you would unknowingly get in step with whomever you were walking with.
It was an impressive site seeing so many soldiers marching and when they moved, they all moved as one. Everything was done exact and with precision. You practiced all day each day until you could do it all perfectly. Whether it was just marching, doing the manual of arms, standing at attention or parade rest or whatever you did it had to be perfectly done every time. You were an Old Guard soldier and you did everything to the absolute best of your ability. When you had mastered everything in the manual for drill and ceremonies, you went on to your specialty training. Then the training started all over again, with whatever specialty you would be doing. If you were in the marching platoon, your job was marching. Everyone marched in particular spot in the platoon. That spot was yours and no one else, it belonged to you. If the commander looked at a soldier in the platoon, he could tell exactly who it was just by the position he marched in.
During the summer months when there were numerous parades, we had practice parades each morning following revile. We would sometimes complete three or more of these each morning. Each time we went through the complete sequence of events that were performed for an actual parade. Each one of us had memorized the sequence of the parades and other ceremonial duties so we knew exactly what was to happen. No matter what command was given us during the event we would perform the proper movement. This way even if the wrong command was given we would perform the correct movement. In addition, since we knew the sequence we all did it perfectly each time.
If you were going to be in the firing party or casket team or color guard, or whatever it was, you were the best at what you did and no one else anywhere could top you. If you were not on a ceremonial commitment or anything then you went over your uniforms and equipment to make sure it was up to par, and spent the day going over your training. The casket team got a new casket each year to practice with. It was the same metal, lead lined casket used to bury soldiers in. The flag detail made sure all the flags were in good condition. They also kept track of all the flags that would be needed. We had every flag the country ever had from its beginning and also the unit's flag and battle streamers as well as flags of other countries that might be used. If it was a flag and it was needed then they took care of it.
Each job was one that was done with pride and honor and no matter how low of a job it was it was treated that way. The most elite job was that of Tomb Guard. This job was done continuously day and night, no matter what the weather, no matter what the conditions. No one on guard at the tomb would ever stop even when allowed to do so because of extreme storm or weather. So even when the place closed down for the night and everything was locked down, all the people had left, and it was in the dead of night, the soldier who was walking guard there walked on and strutted his stuff just as if the president himself was there.
No matter what happened the guard would not react unless someone entered his area. Then he would come to the challenge position with weapon in hand face the intruder and in a loud voice command "Halt". I saw a little boy one sunny day duck under the roped off area and approach the guard before anyone could stop him. The guard stopped and brought his weapon up in the challenge position and commanded loudly halt.
The little boy froze in his tracks then ran crying to his mother it scared him so. The guard simply returned to his duties walking his post as though nothing had happened. The guard was trained to concentrate on his job and nothing else, just like the guards at Buckingham palace he showed no emotion or reaction no matter what happened around him. He was there to honor the unknown soldiers who had given their lives and were known only to God.
My Mom Called
Being a new guy and having all sorts of things to learn and become proficient with as well as with the spit and polish to look sharp kept us all busy. Believe me we did not have much time for anything else. This was a good thing and probably kept us from getting into any trouble at the time. Until our special security clearances came back, we were not able to go on any of the ceremonies that would take us to the sensitive areas such as the white house, the pentagon and ceremonies where certain dignitaries were.
We were told that the Federal Bureau of Investigation, as well as other agencies such as the Secret Service and White House Security would investigate us. Until these investigations were completed, we would be restricted in our duties. We were also told that we were not to tell anyone of the details of this either. We took this seriously and did as we were told.
I had been so busy with everything that I had not written to my mother as much as I should have. I had also been so busy with everything that I was more than a little apprehensive when told to report to the commander at once.
Naturally, I rushed to the commander’s office where the first sergeant told me to report to the company commander. I marched in and reported giving my best and sharpest salute. The commander returned my salute and ordered me to be at ease soldier. Then he handed me the telephone and simply said here soldier talk to your mother.
My mother at once asked me are you all right son. I replied that I was fine and asked what this was all about. My mother said that she had spent the morning going through the Red Cross to get to speak with me, and she wanted to know what kind of trouble I was in. I did my best to reassure her I was in no trouble but she insisted she knew something was up. She said she knew better because the F.B.I had been around talking to people who knew me asking all sorts of questions. She said they had even contacted my first grade teacher who was now retired in Florida somewhere to ask about my character, so I had better come clean and tell her because she was scared that I was in serious trouble.
I told her again I was ok and not in any trouble but she would not believe me. All I could say was that I was sorry but I could not explain now. Finally, my Commander came to my rescue, took the phone from me, and talked to her. He explained that I had been ordered not to tell anyone of the investigation but that I was telling the truth and I was not in any trouble.
He told her that in fact I had been chosen for a very responsible position and that my duties required that I be investigated. He told her that just to be chosen was a high honor indeed and that she could be proud of her son.
My mom was pleased and I was very relieved myself that all was well. It made me realize that I could be very proud indeed that I was a soldier in this unit.
Trial By Fire
While waiting for our security clearances to be completed we were limited in the ceremonial details we participated in. One day I was told to get dressed for funeral detail today, full dress you are going in. I was excited, I had trained hard to be proficient enough and now I was about to be in my first one. I dressed quickly and made sure I was spic and span.
After reporting downstairs and being inspected, we were briefed on the ceremony. It was an honor funeral for a former high-level official, we were not told the name but he was to be buried in the garden, with full honors, which meant firing party, casket team, marching platoon, all the trimmings. I was assigned as traffic and restraining guard, which meant we directed traffic and kept people out of where they didn’t belong until the funeral was completed. I was put on an entry road to the post chapel where the funeral was held. My job was that during a critical point in the ceremony I would stand in the middle of the access road and stop all traffic from entering until it was completed.
We had no communication devices at the time so we set our watches and I was told when to close the road and when it was to be opened again. I was to be there completely alone, and was told to follow my instructions to the letter no matter what, until the detail was completed. If anyone and it was stressed anyone challenged me and asked for my authority to close this access I was told to verbally give them my authorization code for the detail. I was told it was “ presidential authority” which meant no one could change it or order me to do other than what I had been ordered to do.
I was the last one to be posted and I don’t mind telling you I was nervous. I stood in my assigned spot on the access road and when the time arrived I came to attention and walked out into the middle of the road and came to a position of parade rest. Everything went fine and it was about 12 minutes until the time when I could again open the access road that it happened. A long black government limo with flags flying in front approached.
I stood my post and when it got close enough I came to attention and halted the vehicle. The driver got out of the limo and approached me and asked me to stand aside so she could drive on. I gave the reply I had been told to say, that the road was closed until completion of the ceremony and no one was allowed to proceed any further. I was told very sternly by the driver that her passenger was a high-level official of the government as evidenced by the flags on the front of the vehicle. I again told the driver that they were not permitted beyond this point. The driver got very angry and said you don’t understand this it the former secretary of, and I cannot say what it was, but again informed the driver that it didn’t matter who it was they were not permitted to enter. The driver went back to the vehicle and picked up the car phone and made a call.
In one minute or less two staff cars with generals plates pulled up and out came two general officers one marine general and an air force general as well. I had never seen a general before and I thought, oh boy I am in trouble now. The generals approached and I came to attention and rendered the required salutes. They looked at me very sternly and asked to stand aside and allow the limo to proceed. I stood my ground and told them what I had previously told the driver. The generals looked at me angrily and told me they were ordering me to stand aside. I told them that I could not follow the order, because my orders to keep the access road closed came from a higher authority. This prompted the generals to ask for the authorization code, which I quickly gave them.
One looked at the other and said if this is some kind of joke I and going to have some bodies butt for this and he asked for my name, rank and service number. I gave it to them and they wrote it down and walked back to their staff cars and picked up their phones and then looked shocked at each other and then promptly left the area along with the limo.
So there I was alone again with still five minutes to go before my first job was over. All went smooth after the detail ended and finally the bus with my NCOIC came and picked me up. I informed him of what happened and he just looked at me as though I was trying to pull some kind of joke on him. Well when we got back to the unit I went upstairs to change clothes but before I could do anything, I was told to report downstairs to the First Sergeants office. I though oh no I am in trouble now. The first sergeant went into the commander’s office and came out and told me to enter and report to the commander.
I promptly did as I was told and went in and reported and stood at attention. The commander told me well, well your first detail here and you already got into it did you? The commander looked at me with a stern look and asked me if it was true that I had refused an order from two general officers? I replied yes sir. He asked why did you do that private? I replied that I was following the orders I had been given for the detail. The commander replied but you are a private and you refused two high level generals do you realize that. I replied yes sir!
He looked at me sternly and walked over to me and stood in front of me and said well I guess there is only one thing I can do, and he paused while I nervously awaited my dreaded fate. Then he smiled and took my hand and shook it and said, well done soldier, you did exactly as you were supposed to do. You might say this was your trial by fire, so to speak. Take the rest of the day off, job well done.
I was speechless, I had thought sure I was going to be in big trouble for what had happened but I had stuck to my guns and followed my orders and I felt great. I have often wondered if the encounter that day was real or staged just to test me but I guess it really doesn’t matter does it. I gained a lot of confidence that day and learned a valuable lesson.
Weeping Willie
Now that I think back on it that sad off post funeral was the start of it. The man on the casket team that day who presented the flag was named William and naturally we all called him Bill.
Something happened to Bill that day when he presented the flag. He couldn’t help the tears that came down his cheeks. One of the things we had learned in our training as soldiers and it had been reinforced in our Old Guard training was to control our emotions. Everyone talks of the guards at the royal palace and how they can be so stone faced and unemotional no matter what happens. Our own guards especially those at places like the tomb of the unknowns were a match for any of those at Buckingham Palace.
William had been a tomb guard and had walked guard for over a year before stepping down because of problems with his legs brought on by the long hours he spent walking there.
He had taken a position as a driver and became the commander’s personal driver. This put him in our headquarters platoon and even though his job as driver for the commander made him exempt to all other duties, he would fill in on the casket team as present man when needed.
When he showed those tears that day we all just thought it was just a one-time thing. But it was just the start of it. From then on whenever he did his job and presented the flag to the next of kin, he would start to tear up. Well instead of him filling in less often, he was asked to perform more often. He became very popular indeed. He would be requested specifically because of his tears.
The guys got to calling him weeping Willie after that but he didn’t seem to mind it at all. And we had to admit it looked impressive at the funeral service to see him present the flag with those tears coming down his cheeks. Everything else was so sharp and precise and unemotional except for those tears at the end. I guess it reminded us of how we all felt but could not show it.
One Lone Soldier
It was an off post funeral detail. I was filling in on the firing party because one member had injured himself the night before.
We were never told much about the ones we were called on to honor. This time was a little different. The funeral was for a young soldier who had gotten killed in the war in Viet Nam. He was just about a year younger than I was and it made me feel lucky that I had not gone over there yet but at the same time I felt like I should have been there with him.
It was a Saturday and the tone of the day was more solemn than usual. Most times we would be talking about so many things and keeping up quite a chatter but this time we were pretty quiet. No one had much to say. We were all ready quickly and got on our way early.
The place for the funeral was some distance away and would take us a couple of hours to get there. I don’t remember the name of the place but it had been designated as a national cemetery. This meant soldiers were guaranteed a burial place there free of charge.
We knew that the soldier was a low ranking enlisted man and since he was being buried, there he probably wasn’t from a wealthy family or anything like that. He was just like the rest of us, just a regular Joe. I guess that also made the time seem more solemn than usual and we realized this could have been anyone of us.
Well we had started out early so we got there in plenty of time to find the site and get ready. The site was in a newly opened section of the cemetery and it was flat and desolate looking, no trees or anything and few flowers. Even the grass was a dull brown.
Strangely, there was no one there yet but then we had gotten there pretty early so we could be sure to find the right spot and be in place since we had never been there before. In fact no one had ever heard of it even.
We got in our places and awaited the funeral procession to arrive. The grave was newly dug and everything was ready. There were only three chairs there at the gravesite so we figured they were for the next of kin and the rest would probably stand. Sometimes they did it this way with a graveside service, this time we just didn’t know.
Finally, we saw the long black hearse followed by only two cars. The rest of the funeral must be coming later, we thought this was probably the minister. Well we soon found out that this was the entire funeral procession. They arrived at the gravesite and the hearse slowly parked in the proper place. From the cars there were only three people that got out. One we quickly recognized as the minister. He was an old man with a beard and dressed simply in a black suit and white collar of a minister. The other two people were just an old woman who must have been the mother and a young lady who we found out was the soldier’s wife.
That was it just his mother, his young wife and the old minister. It was the saddest and loneliest funeral we had ever seen. We had never seen anything like it before. It seemed a poor lonely send off for a young man who had given his life in a war so far from home. We all felt it and put extra effort into doing our best job this time. The funeral got underway and went pretty quickly. The old preacher read from his bible, the old woman and the young girl clung to each other and cried.
The casket team carried the plain gray casket to the gravesite; the firing party performed their part flawlessly. The flag was folded and the bugler played taps. I remember the team member who was the present man that day. The present man is the one who takes the flag after it is folded and presents it to the next of kin and renders a final salute.
When he walked up to the two women and presented the flag was the most solemn moment we had experienced ever. Most of the time it goes so quickly with no sign of emotion from the funeral detail. This time it was different, this time when he rendered the final salute we all felt the sadness and we couldn’t help noticing a single tear running down his cheek.
Then it was finished and we were on our way back to the lives we all enjoyed. But the memory of this funeral will be with me as long as I live. We had hated having our weekend disrupted by an off post funeral but this time we were grateful that we had been there to honor that young soldier.
Communications
My security clearance came back quickly in about three months. I was offered a position in communications and gladly accepted, because it was something I liked and I was good at it.
I had just finished my new person ceremonial training. Now I had even more to learn about. There would also be more security clearances, because I would be working with classified information. Sending, coding, and decoding messages and such. I would have a lot of equipment to learn about and I would learn it all, including not only operating the equipment but maintaining it and even making repairs.
I was now in the headquarters section assigned to the headquarters platoon. My job would be as the commanders R.T.O or radiotelephone operator. I made sure the commander had the communications he needed at all times. Wherever he went, I went, whatever he saw, and hard I would see and hear.
My first training in addition to this was as a field wireman. As such, I took care and maintained all of the communications that used wires. I learned to set up and maintain the field phones and to string wire for them, the switchboards, and all sorts of new things.
The sergeant in charge of the communications section, better known as the commo chief was sergeant Good. He was a southerner like me so we had some common ground and that helped us to understand each other better. He was from Georgia and a couple of years older than I was. He was a good person to work for and he knew a lot about everything. He taught me all he knew about communications. I filled in the rest by reading every regulation, manual and anything else I could find about communications. I practiced my communications procedures until I knew it all and could do it flawlessly
In addition to all the things I was learning in communications, there were also new ceremonial procedures to learn. All headquarters personnel had to be cross-trained in specialty jobs such as the firing party and casket team. This was in case it was necessary we could fill in for someone who couldn’t make it because of illness or injury or something like that. In addition, in case things got overly busy and it was needed we could help. Mostly we would perform the off post funerals. I trained for the casket team but preferred the firing party because I liked working with the weapons we used.
I only went out on a couple of funerals with the casket team but every chance I got to go with the firing party I went. It was an exciting time, so much to learn so much to see and experience.
Foxhole Telephone
While undergoing our annual combat training at Camp A. P. Hill in Virginia we practiced to keep proficient at the skills we might need if we went to combat. I was lucky enough to be in the Headquarters section and welcomed the opportunity to get away from the usual ceremonial duties for a while. I was pleased to go ahead on the advanced party to represent communications.
We were busy the first few days locating the area for the base camp. We did such things as set up the command tents, mess tents, first aid, as well as such things as the communications equipment. Of course, there were the usual details such as digging latrines and the many foxholes that surrounded the camp area, as well as those further out called L.P.s or listening posts.
Naturally, I made sure all areas had reliable communications, which included not only the radios but also the field phones. These phones were connected to the command area with miles of wire. While the foxholes were being dug, I was busy making sure all the wires were in place.
A group of my communications guys were busy digging a foxhole when they dug into something. I sent word to stop digging until I could check it out. After checking and finding no information on any dangers in the area, I went to the foxhole and found it to be a buried telephone cable.
This gave me an idea. When we were in the field on training it was difficult to get in touch with the outside world. Then there were no cell phones such as, we have now. To make a phone call meant going miles and miles to the main headquarters and then there was just one pay phone. As you can see, calling home was out of the question.
I had discovered some time back that I could connect a field phone to a regular phone line and get a dial tone. So I put together a crude dialing device so I could call out. Naturally, this was only to be used in case all communications went out.
Well it worked fine. So I swore everyone to keep it quiet about this. We were halfway through the exercise before anyone outside of the advanced party found out.
I was talking to the supply sergeant one day and the weather was awful, cold and raining. The company commander walked in and said to us “gentlemen I have a problem that I need your help with”. I need to get a call to the outside world, I need a landline and I do not have time to try to get to headquarters, do you have any ideas.
We hesitated as if we were thinking about what he had said. He looked at us again and in a soft voice said, off the record gentlemen, just between you and me, no questions asked just help me make the call, ok?
The supply sergeant and I looked at each other and nodded. I said to the supply sergeant, why don’t we show the commander how well we have set up our communications to the foxholes, especially number six out there in the wood line.