A Marine Corp Funeral

I stand swaying, trying to keep my footing as my heels dig into the soft earth.  The sun is unseasonable hot.  My black dress clings to me as my body begins to perspire.  I look down at my daughters small hand and reach to hold it.  She looks forward as the tears streak her cheeks.

I turn my head forward.  I can see the Marines at parade rest.  There must be 300 people, yet the only sound is  that of the birds.  I close my eyes and will myself not to cry.

"Breathe", I tell myself.  Slowly, I open my eyes again.  So many people.  So much pain.  We stand directly behind the funeral detail.  I know my husband is one of them, but I cannot tell which one.  My heart aches for him.  He is not allowed to grieve.  He must be strong.  I am grateful I have my sunglasses, they hide so much.  And as they call them to present the flag to SSgt Anderson's mom, the sobs begin again.  I am almost relieved I cannot see what is going on through all the mourners.

So many people.  So much grief and anguish.

I look down at my feet.  My heels are killing me and I feel like an ass for focusing on something so stupid.  I place my weight on the balls of feet as to keep my heels from digging any further into the ground.  I stand carefully between two headstone and begin to read the one just the the right.  Born 1892; Died 1975.  He had a long life; so much longer than Austin's 27 years.

I can hear in the distance someone yelling but all too late I realize what is happening.  The first shots ring out and startle me.  I release my daughter's hand and place mine to my lips to muffle a sob.  The second shots come too quickly for me to recover and I give in.  My body shakes and it becomes difficult to breathe.

I hold my head up.  Suddenly it feels disrespectful to be looking down.  Tears flowing freely down my cheeks.  The final shots are fired and through a small part in the crowd, I catch a glimpse of the casket.  It looks naked without the flag.  Another stupid thought.

The minister says something but it is inaudible.  Someone dismisses the Marines.  When they turn to one another I can see that everyone of them has been crying.  They hug and cry more.  I carefully step back from the crowd.  Carefully watching my husband.  I want to go to him, comfort him.  But this is not the time and I am not who he needs.  So I watch and wait until he comes to me........................


It was a very beautiful service.  The girl Austin pulled from the plane, her father spoke.  I know that she has a long recovery, but I am so grateful she survived.  It was as if Austin's purpose in life was to save her.  He struggled to keep his composure as he talked about Austin; about Hannah and their friendship.   I have thought a lot about the life he lived, so full of purpose and drive.  He knew the life he wanted, the man he wanted to be.  And he lived that way.  He died that way.  And I hope that when I die, I have had even half the impact that SSgt Austin Anderson had on those that knew him.

Semper Fi