Changing of the guards....

I just watched a video in a psychology class that had a clip of the changing of the guards at Arlington National Cemetary's Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers. I was there once, when I was ten. I can remember only a few things about how fascinated I was with the guards. It still has the ability to glaze my eyes when I think about it. These men guard a single tomb with their entirety every day, rain or shine. With no expression, they spare nothign when a child steps over or under the velvet rope, reminding EVERYONE that they are on hallowed ground and respect is not asked for, but required. I can remember driving through Arlington and not completly understanding why, but knowing that this is not a place of celebration. It is also not a place of mourning. It is a land of pride, of respect. Even at ten, I asked very little about why. I think I understood that these men may not have supported what they did, but they did it because it was their job. They took pride in what they did. Now, we have thousands of small white headstones, often with flowers surrounding them, to stop and pay our respects.

I plan to return soon, with nothing but respect to pay. Though I may not have known any of them, they all have a place in my heart and my mind.


And every time I hear twenty-one guns
I know they brought another hero home to us
We're thankful for those thankful for the things we've done
We can rest in peace, 'cause we were the chosen ones
We made it to Arlington, yea, dust to dust
Don't cry for us, we made it to Arlington