First I must apologize for the failure to post these past few weeks. Small changes to my schedule and massive amounts of laziness caused me to fail to live up to my commitment. I frequently do things like this, but my dearest friend reminded me of my obligation. Hopefully I can get back on track.
Today's thought:
I couple this information with this week's thought because I find myself in a curious situation. On the one hand I realize that this is on of the most painful days in the lives of the family, the day they lay the remains of their loved ones in the ground, the day they say their final good-byes. I feel for them, I sympathize deeply with their loss. On the other hand, however, each funeral leaves me more and more detached from the situation. It has become like a play, the desire to preform perfectly overwhelming the empathy.
This is rooted in the same place as any other military ceremony. As soldiers we desire that every thing we do be done well, especially if it is in order to honor another soldier. We do this not out of pride in ourselves, but in our tradition and in order to show respect for not just the individual we are honoring, but all that have come before us. I just worry that (this time in particular) we might loose sight of the goal in the minutia. I worry that when I present the new widow with a flag and recite the words I've been made to memorize that the lack of personalization may be a torture in itself. I worry that we may be torturing the family in order to render the honors these men deserve.
This week's thought was long, and a little out of my norm, but a bit cathartic. Have a great week, and I expect to be back to normal by the next time we meet.
Today's thought:
It's amazing to me that in the military we torture someone with an anal formation in order to thank them. - 1405 25OCT03This was written close to the end of my first tour in Iraq, when all the end of tour awards were being passed out, it began to seem like the receiving of these awards took more effort than the earning of them. It reflects itself heavily on the detail I've been on this past month, and will be on for another two. I have been tasked to the Fort Gordon Installation Support Platoon. This is Fort Gordon's answer to post-wide taskings and details, the primary one of which is the funeral detail. Most people are familiar in one way or another with the military funeral honors, a right afforded to any soldier who served in the military and received an honorable discharge. There are two types afforded to soldiers based on how long the soldier served as well as other things. I had seen these ceremonies preformed on TV and in movies, but did not have first hand knowledge until this detail started.
I couple this information with this week's thought because I find myself in a curious situation. On the one hand I realize that this is on of the most painful days in the lives of the family, the day they lay the remains of their loved ones in the ground, the day they say their final good-byes. I feel for them, I sympathize deeply with their loss. On the other hand, however, each funeral leaves me more and more detached from the situation. It has become like a play, the desire to preform perfectly overwhelming the empathy.
This is rooted in the same place as any other military ceremony. As soldiers we desire that every thing we do be done well, especially if it is in order to honor another soldier. We do this not out of pride in ourselves, but in our tradition and in order to show respect for not just the individual we are honoring, but all that have come before us. I just worry that (this time in particular) we might loose sight of the goal in the minutia. I worry that when I present the new widow with a flag and recite the words I've been made to memorize that the lack of personalization may be a torture in itself. I worry that we may be torturing the family in order to render the honors these men deserve.
This week's thought was long, and a little out of my norm, but a bit cathartic. Have a great week, and I expect to be back to normal by the next time we meet.
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