The General, the Aged Marine, and the Yellow Lark

BY RALPH W. OLSON

FAIRVIEW CEMETERY, Memorial Day, 2003 — I awake to a bright, sunny day, just a wisp of clouds and a light breeze. There is sure to be a large crowd at Fairview Cemetery today. After a light breakfast, I toss a lawn chair into the back of the old green pickup and I’m on my way!

I parked near the Calvary Cemetery. It’s a beautiful sight; the confirmation class was here on Wednesday, cleaning up the grounds. It is lovely. White military markers with individual flags attached adorn some of the graves. The veterans’ council was up early this morning, making sure that every veteran in the county and resting here is honored with a flag. The lawns have been mowed and the lovely trees frame the picture. I hurry across to Fairview and set up my chair just across from the dias of chairs and microphones reserved for the speakers. Mike Schroeder is here to see that the service is broadcast over KWLM.

I’m a bit early, so I walk up the rise to the east to the grave site of Evie’s father. We were here yesterday to plan a geranium. The morning’s dew glistens on the leaves. We often note that Ed has a great view of Veteran’s Rest to the west. Ed was wounded in France at dawn on November 11, 1918, a bit too early for the Armistice; that took effect at 11 a.m. that day. Ed used a cane of the rest of his life because of those wounds.

On the way back to my chair, I noticed a Marine from World War II struggling to set up his chair. I offer my assistance but he replies, “I can still do this by myself!” He calls me “Sonny” even though he’s only a couple years older than me. If I had been born in ‘27 or ‘28, instead of ‘29, I would have been drafted into the U.S. Army. But my time came later, from 1950-1957.

A Cub Scout hands me a printed program, and to my surprise, the speaker is Lt. General Edward A Waldon, Commander of the 47th Infantry Division, from 1953-1957. He was Company Commander of “C” Company 682nd Engineer Battalion-47th Division Minnesota National Guard. He was Company Commander and I was the Company First Sergeant.

We had an outstanding unit. Present today are other former members of Company “C”: Lt. Col. Ron Andreen, Lt. Kelly Forstrom, Arne Gynald, MI Sgt. Aldrich Assen, Fred Gunderson, and others. We enjoyed our reunion, recalling comrades and times past. But now it is time for the General to take his seat with the other VIPs.

The Willmar High School Band renders a much appreciated march that sets the tone of the service. Old Glory flaps in the breeze at the gate of Soldiers Rest – two concentric circles, 58 military markers in the outer ring, and 23 markers on the inner ring. It is impressive to behold.

One can hear the sound of the heavy boots of the Color Guard striking the ground. They carry the U.S. usury banner, the Minnesota state flag, and the POW flag. Save for the heavy boot, it is quiet, very quiet.

The band plays our national anthem. We stand with hands over our hearts, hats off. I catch a glimpse of the aged Marine delivering a perfect hand salute; wrist and forearm in perfect alignment, with the elbow tucked in just a bit, fingers barely touching the brim of his American Legion cap. He learned that salute as a young man in the 1940s.

The service begins, the audience is welcomed. Pastor Tim Larson, everybody’s friend, delivers the invocation. The Gold Star mother lays a wreath at the grave site, accompanied by the American Legion and VFW Auxiliary Presidents. An American Legion Boys Stater is introduced and “On Flanders Fields” is read. An Eagle Scout reads the names of the deceased veterans. Another American Legion Boy Stater reads General Logan’s orders establishing Memorial Day services.

As the reading continues, a bright yellow lark swoops over the crowd, then almost straight up to the longest branch of the tallest oak. From time to time, I glance up at the branch on which the lark has perched himself, buffeted by the breeze. A sentinel, perhaps?

The General delivers a fine address to do the right thing, a challenge to serve God and one’s fellow men. Darrell Larson comes forward to also read “On Flanders Field” as only Darrell’s rich bass voice can.

Wayne Emberland commands the Honor Guard. Military rifles at arms – Ready! Aim! Fire! Fire! Fire! The names of Veterans who have died this past year are read, taps are played. There is not a dry eye in the crowd. The yellow lark is not disturbed, but stays sure and steady at his post.

I now look up at the longest branch of the tallest oak and the sentinel lark is gone. He’s missed it, he’s missed the sight of the single tear coursing down the cheek of the aged Marine, the tear the falls to hallowed ground.

The book is closed, the prayers are said, and we are part of the uncounted dead, thrice happy if we can hear some soul say, “I live because he passed my way!” (John Wells).