when our town's local National Guard Unit was called for duty in Iraq |
Folded Red White and Blue from J.S. Fox When I was about eight years old, I was at a military reviewing stand as it was being set up. A gust of wind blew the flag-stand over the edge of the stage platform, dumping the American flag to the ground. A grizzled U.S. Marine Sergeant rushed over to set the flag-stand back up on the reviewing platform and reinsert the flagpole. I, as only an eight-year-old can do, promptly told him the flag had touched the ground and now had to be burned. “Who says that?” The sergeant barked. “Teacher says,” I nervously replied. Furrowing his brow and jutting his jaw, the sergeant growled, “Listen kid, I have crawled through mud and sand with a flag tucked in my sweaty shirt pocket. I've seen flags soiled by the smoke and ash of war. I've seen a buddy’s flag stained by his mother’s tears when I brought it home to her. So, Kid, if a flag touches the ground, just brush it off and let it fly with pride, until it is too worn out to use anymore. That’s the flag code. Then you burn it with honor. Now help me set this flag in the stand and you tell teacher she is a jackass.” Well, I did help him with the flag - however, I didn’t ever tell teacher she was a jackass. But I never forgot what that Marine said that day. I guess I never truly understood what he'd said about that sweat-stained pocket flag until this past September. My son’s unit had just rolled into Iraq and back here at home a lady from the V.F.W. gave my wife a little folded up American flag to send to him. For his pocket. From Letters to the News Sentinel Editor - 2009 - A Soldier’s Father, Here At Home, Writes - |