That guy in the blue shirt on the far left... hearing his Senior Drill Instructor's voice...
"Bring your left heel against the right.
Turn your feet out equally to form an angle of 45 degrees. Keep your heels on the same line and touching.
Your legs should be straight, but not stiff at the knees.
Keep your hips and shoulders level and your chest lifted.
Your arms should hang naturally, thumbs along the trouser seams, palms facing inward toward your legs, fingers joined in their natural curl and elbows in.
Keep your head and body erect. Look straight ahead. Keep your mouth closed and your chin pulled in slightly.
Stand still and do not talk."
This is the "Position of Attention." I was taught it in Boot Camp, right away. When not in uniform, it serves as a salute - a proper means of showing respect. In times that demand respect, i.e. - Taps, Reveille, National Anthem or when called on the carpet for a good ass chewing - you will stand at the Position of Attention.
It is a salute, a polite recognition and acknowledgement. A homage to honor those that came before you.
First Note to the Last Note. Period.
If the Marines on Iwo Jima could charge in to the hellfire that was Mount Surabachi, you can lock your body up and stand there for 2 and a half damn minutes. If those Army soldiers clinging to life on the beaches of Normandy could face insurmountable odds yet continue to fight on, you can stop what you're doing and pay some respect during the playing of a song and the passing of our Flag.
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March on the Colors... I love this picture.
Miss Jeanine captured this moment at the home football field of the Aitkin Gobblers a hundred years ago. Aitkin could always be counted on for having a below average High School band - so the music is a distant memory. Yet, the images of their color guard are burned in my mind.
It seemed the local VFW sent their most grizzled veterans to carry out a few steps in Close Order Drill. Their disheveled uniforms and crooked garrison caps seemed to match their out of step cadence which somehow made me admire them even more. I distinctly remember believing that at any point one of the old duffers was going to knock off his Piss Cutter while going to Port Arms. It always felt that at any moment one of them could stumble, fall over or heaven forbid - drop the colors.
Locked tight, I focused on those men and swore that I could get to them before the Flag ever touched the ground if one of them faltered. But they NEVER DID.
Ever.
Even though it may look like I'm at mid-field, the Tigers are lined up on the visiting team's sideline, just a few yards behind me. This one picture captured me standing for just one National Anthem. I coached for a long time. I've stood this way for the song hundreds of times.
Miss Jeanine noticed.
She once told me that she always noticed but never understood...
until her oldest son joined the Marine Corps.
2 comments:
Amen
And I remember you going over and shaking everyone of those gentlemen's hands. Thanks to all of you for your service and may we all pay you the respect that you all deserve for your service to our great country. Well said Kirby!
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