Monday, May 25, 2009

5/25/09 STANDING RETREAT WITH SERGEANT ARPIN


Monday, Memorial Day, 8:30 AM. 54 degrees, wind SW, calm. The sky is partly cloudy and the barometer predicts the same.
The apple orchards are now in full bloom, apples white blossomed, crabapple pollinators shades of pink to red and white.
I performed my military obligation between the Korean War and the Vietnam War, a period of time that was mostly a standoff between the US and the Soviet Union, and except for a few incidents there was no shooting going on, so my experiences were not very remarkable and I can’t say I took any of it very seriously, and was more often a sophomoric wise guy than not. I was, however, soundly put in my place by Platoon Sergeant Arpin, and I remember it exactly, more than a half century later on this Memorial Day.
The post commander at Fort Leonard Wood determined that proper military tradition was being lost (probably true) and decreed that all personnel would stand retreat each evening with their units. This meant that everyone had to change into their dress uniforms after mess and go through the ceremony of taps and lowering the flag. No one was thrilled with all this, and after a week or so I asked, “Sergeant Arpin, why in the hell are we doing this?”
Now Sarge was a good guy, who must have screwed up somewhere along the line and been bucked down to being a platoon sergeant for raw recruits. He was something of a father figure, very patient, and a rarity among the breed. He was a whimsical figure in action, as rotund as a beach ball, and he huffed and puffed his way through the platoon sergeant business, but he had a certain military bearing and dignity about him nonetheless.
Anyway, he looked me straight in the eye and said, “Ode, we’re doing this to honor the memories of all my buddies who got their asses shot off at Iwo Jima.”
No more wise guy, I stood retreat properly thereafter until some time later when the order was rescinded and things went back to normal.
So, Sergeant Arpin, I imagine you are resting in some military cemetery somewhere, as I doubt you had anywhere else to go, and I hope that you are happy there among your old friends. But I want you to know that I will stand retreat in my heart today for you and all your old buddies. It’s the least a young wise guy can do.