The Old Guard of the 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment turned out today for a funeral. Apparently, someone must have died who had received the Medal of Honor or who was of ambassadorial status.
These cats usually turn out in smaller numbers for soldiers' funerals, but today they brought the Army Band, the cavalry horses, pallbearers and a dozen extra GIs to fill in for the guys who -- invariably -- fall out during long events. It was something to see, eerily quiet except for their heel taps and the occasional "Hateeen-Hup!"
They stood by at the Fort Myer Chapel, not the usual venue for funeral services, but this one had hundreds in attendance. We had coincidentally parked across the street. They marched right past the truck like it wasn't even there. The soldiers are ALL infantry, mostly young guys, and there were more than enough Bronze Stars and Purple Hearts to remind you we're at war.
The nature of the event notwithstanding, this guy I work with looked at the bayonets, shining in the sunlight, and said, "So, imagine you're a skydiver and you're way off the mark on your landing ..."
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