It seemed like it was going to be another day of air travel as I waited to board Southwest flight 3968 out of Reagan Airport. Suddenly, I noticed several people walking with intention towards the plate-glass window behind me. A woman pulled out her phone to photograph something outside.
When I turned around, I saw the soul-stirring image of a flag-draped coffin being taken off the plane. The six-man Marine Honor escort with their commanding officer reverently transported the coffin to the awaiting hearse. They then ceremoniously marched some paces back, did an about face and solemnly saluted the body bearing hearse. The Marine in charge then dismissed the escort.
Both the pilot and the copilot stood erect in a position of reverence till the ceremony was over. An Allied Aviation truck interrupted his responsibilities to stop and pay respects, as did the Southwest baggage handler in the foreground. He seemed oblivious to the mountain of suitcases he had yet to load on the departing flight. Something more important had captured his attention…and imagination.
Passengers inside looked on with sadness and awe at the gut-wrenching scene.
They were waiting to board the very same plane that carried this anonymous Marine. They, like me, had never witnessed anything like this and were probably grappling with the same nagging questions. Who was this Marine? What was his name? How did he die? What were the circumstances surrounding his death? Finally, did those on board know the precious “cargo” that had just been ceremoniously taken off the flight they were on? Now, I was about to board the very same plane that carried this anonymous Marine. Perhaps I could find answers to those questions from one of our stewardesses.
She had flown in on the flight from Providence with the fallen Marine and so I peppered her with the above questions. The pilot, she said, only announced they were carrying a fallen Marine when they landed. It is customary in such circumstances for the body to be removed before any of the passengers are allowed to disembark. We can only imagine what they felt.
This same flight attendant described seeing the twenty-something Marine escort, who happened to be a friend of the deceased, sitting in the front row, “looking sharp in his Marine Corps dress blues”. The only meaningful information about the fallen Marine she was able to discover was that he also was in his early twenties and a native of Providence, Rhode Island.
It was a bit frustrating to be unable to get more details about this Marine, but at the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter. What we do know about the Providence Marine is sufficient for a Memorial Day reflection. He, like all Marines, had gone through an excruciatingly difficult boot camp. He knew the moment he put on the uniform of a United States Marine, he might be sent into harm’s way, one that may cost him his life.
He believed that there are values higher than life itself. He ultimately died while in the service of his country. Most importantly, he was being transported to Washington D.C. We can only suspect that he will be laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery alongside thousands who had trod the same heroic path.
The woman photographing the scene, described above, got choked up several times and even audibly gasped. Why such emotion? She was not a blood relative, yet she grieved for this young man as if he were her own son. I continued to ponder her attitude as our flight took off and was left with a longing to know the name of the mystery Marine.
As I reflected on this woman’s emotions and the respect Southwest employees showed for someone who had paid the ultimate price, it occurred to me how Memorial Day is an excuse for barbecue and beer…and lots of it. It is actually much more.
What I witnessed on this celebratory weekend was something never to be forgotten. It was an expression of thanks from a grateful nation. This was not just any Marine and he does have a name. He is “America’s son.” Thank God for men such as him.