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Tomb of the Unknown Soldier
A breeze softly blows across the plaza, as if the souls of those who perished are passing by. The white marble sarcophagus displays the Greek figures representing Peace, Victory, and Valor, reminding us that warfare ultimately strives to achieve all of them.
Several years ago we had the opportunity to visit the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and saw the changing of the guard. The uniformed relief commander appeared and announced that those present remain silent and standing; in some ways, the stated request seemed redundant, as people seemed to be called to do both out of a solemn respect. When we were there, I was struck by the silence and stillness, as the sentinels slowly and gracefully moved through this timeless ritual. We seemed to walk with them, as their actions demonstrated their deep respect for the fallen and for their families.
I also realized today that there are those who might describe the ritual as robotic; however, that description couldn’t be further from the truth. I would call it a profound demonstration of a walking meditation, as each sentinel, impeccably dressed, proceeded through this ritual. Each second, each step, each movement resonated with the deep respect and honor these soldiers were demonstrating to those who were lost in battle. Although you may find the video moving, there is nothing like being in the presence of this sacred ritual.
I’m reading Tom Cotton’s new book, Sacred Duty: A Soldier’s Tour at Arlington National Cemetery and will write specifically about his reflections next week. But for now, I wanted to give special attention to those who serve our country bravely, honorably and righteously—whether they died in battle or serve us today.
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Published in Military
If you ever get the opprotunity to walk the graveyards in Normandy, there is a shocking amount of graves labeled:
“HERE RESTS IN HONORED GLORY A COMRADE IN ARMS KNOWN BUT TO GOD”
Caps is intentional as the inscription is in caps.
I have a picture I took in 2001 on my shelf behind my desk to remember.
All rituals, if performed correctly, are “robotic”. It is the very precision and exact repetition that gives power to a ritual. The character of ritual is two-fold: (1) To the extent it was in service to propitiation, it needed to be done correctly lest offense be given, and (2) to be persistent in the culture it needed to have a learnable precision. When I see a ritual correctly performed I am moved by its rigor that honors the learning and discipline required to perform it.
Also very important points, @rodin. The amount of training required is amazing. I’m fascinated, though, that one can’t just do it mindlessly, even if you’ve done it 100 times. To maintain the sacredness, you have to be “present.”
On a trip to France in 2011, our time at Normandy was truly the most affecting.
It’s so heartwarming to know that our soldiers who lost their lives are honored all over the world. We saw a cemetery in Thailand not from from the River Kwai where the Death Railway was built.
Something to see in summer, something to be behold in winter.
Alone and far removed from earthly care,
The noble ruins of men lie buried here,
You were strong men, good men,
Endowed with youth and much the will to live,
I hear no protest from the mute lips of the dead,
They rest there is no more to give.
– Audie Murphy (1948)
I’ve been to this ceremony several times over the years. It is inspiring, spiritual, and somber. I agree that the scene just naturally encourages a quiet reverence to come over the watching crowd. I’ve also been there once or twice when the soldier who was carefully pacing back and forth stepped away from his path, turned to the audience, and firmly chastised them in a very clear and professional manner. It isn’t a request–it is an order to be silent.
Last summer, I was in D.C. with my daughter and our grandchildren. A ceremony honoring the 50 year anniversary of Bobby Kennedy’s assassination was being held at Arlington, as well. The amphitheater where this event took place was just around the corner from the Tomb of the Unknowns. Some politicians were having a very chatty, and too loud for the venue, conversation. Several people waiting for the Changing of the Guard ceremony asked them to be quieter, or go somewhere else. It was unbelievable how rude they were, until finally a person with a shirt that identified him as a veteran simply pointed to the marching soldier, put his finger to his lips, and then gestured to the chatty big wigs to exit the area NOW. They finally left. Good Grief.
The scenes at the Normandy cemetery at the beginning and end of Saving Private Ryan always bring tears to my eyes. That, and when Ryan’s mother collapses on the porch when she sees a military officer and her parson get out of the car:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FmaLbZP1QCE