Section K

He's on the right flank of the third rank of Section K. It’s a fitting place; a place of honor. It’s a place rightfully reserved for non-commissioned officers.

His unit guards the Western point of the encampment. Veteran solders join the formation weekly.

My Dad claimed his place on the right flank 1 November 2002. It was a carefully considered decision planned several years before. Tuesday, when he died quietly at home, he was 84 and his plan went into effect. The following Friday, he joined his comrades-in-arms at Section K, Fort Custer National Cemetery.

I visited his grave today for the first time since his interment. I stood before him although the only evidence of his presence was the small plaque imbedded in the snow-covered sod at his feet. The plaque proclaimed his name and plot number. Soon it would be replaced by an engraved footstone.

I stared at the plaque. Behind it was a Christmas wreath placed there earlier by one of my sisters and a miniature tree crafted by the other. Placing the tree was the immediate reason for our presence on this holy ground. Ground made holy by the bodies of thousands of brave men.

My wife and I, my Mother, my two sisters, and my niece visited that holy place to deliver the Christmas tree, to honor my Father, and to share our grief.

We stood before him mostly in silence missing him and remembering. I looked down the ranks and files of the Section K formation. The men, covered by a thick blanket of snow, were in perfect order, dressed right and front.

The white snow was dulled by the steel gray overcast sky. It was cold and remote. Guard duty like I remember it. It was lonely too, though only for us. Dad is in a great formation of soldiers, sailors, airmen, and marines. These men fought and beat the Italians, the Germans, and the Japanese on the battlefields of Europe, Asia, and the Pacific. They were the greatest armed forces ever assembled in the history of mankind.

My mind drifted entertaining the thought that this great army defeated all enemies but time. The survivors of World War II fall by the thousands to the bullets of age. Heart disease and cancer are the artillery and the machine guns of this new/old enemy who has never lost a war.

Before we turned to leave I wondered what God will do with this awesome army. Suddenly, I realized Dad has reenlisted. Sgt Irvin C Clark, a veteran amphibious tank commander from the Peleliu, the Philippines, and the Okinawan campaigns, has reenlisted.

I don't know what need God has of such an army. Ragnarok, the great last battle between the good and evil gods of Norse myth, is not found in the Christian scriptures. But if He has need of an army, He's getting the very best.