Un-American by Erik Edstrom

Author:Erik Edstrom
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing

Funerals and the Tomorrow Pill

How many people thought you’d never change?

But here you have. It’s beautiful. It’s strange.

—Kate Light, “There Comes the Strangest Moment”

I never saw Ox, my platoon sergeant, cry. Not even after attending a dozen memorial ceremonies together.

One day we attended a memorial service for a Charlie Company soldier hit by an IED. He lost both his legs and passed away shortly thereafter. Two others were injured in the blast.

Charlie Company were owners of an outpost in Pashmul, an area within Zhari District that was in the heart of the Green Death. By comparison, Hotel VBIED seemed like we’d drawn the long straw.

Those poor bastards. They couldn’t patrol more than two hundred meters outside their gate before they’d either step on an antipersonnel mine or get lit up by RPGs.

Mid-funeral, Ox looked on with monk-like stoicism.

“I don’t usually get emotional at memorials. After dozens of them, it doesn’t get to you the same way.” He paused for a moment: “I take that back. It does affect you. It’s just”—he paused again—“I’ve been to so many.”

For me, tears decreased with each ceremony.

I got glassy-eyed but didn’t cry. My soul was turning to ash. Every funeral features a soldier’s cross: unworn tan combat boots, rifle, clean helmet, and dog tags. An official Department of the Army eight-by-ten photograph flanks the tribute. The equipment on the cross—sterile, fresh—never shows how the soldier died.

After each memorial service, a condolence line forms. Soldiers patiently wait their turn to approach and salute the memorial. If the soldier knew the deceased, they might take a moment to say goodbye. Some solemnly kneel; others grip the dog tags in their palm; some rub the helmet or boots; and others leave a favorite trinket.

With time and practice, memorial services became routine process and the crowd never seemed to stick around as long. Back to business—almost as if the duration one stayed at the ceremony was inversely proportional to the number of memorial ceremonies one attended.

We had scabbed over.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.