I am a veteran. I almost never do much about it, except wear my field jacket in the cold weather and occasionally say things like, “I can carry that; I was in the Army!” Friday, however, Steven and I attended a ceremony honoring national POW/MIA recognition day in Myers Park in Herkimer sponsored by Chapter No. 827 Vietnam Veterans of America.
We walked down with our schnoodle Tabby, since the park is quite close to our house. We had meant to take a longer walk first, so Tabby would not be too restless, but time got away from us, as it is apt to do. I had in my hand two postcards to mail to soldiers, since the post office is nearby the park. I thought that was appropriate.
Some people were gathered when we arrived. We saw some American Legion guys in white shirts and black pants, two holding flags, two holding rifles. Steven hoped they would not fire the rifles and scare Tabby, but I said they were more likely to hold them at present arms during the ceremony. A man came up and thanked us for coming and asked if we would like to hold a candle for the missing soldiers. Of course we would. We had noticed several other people doing so as we had approached.
“If if starts to burn you, just drop it,” he said. The candles were in plastic cups with the bottoms ripped out. A lady also came up to us and said she recognized our dog as one who had been very well behaved during a concert in the park. Tabby wagged her tail.
“She’s just magically good,” I told her. “We don’t know how to train a dog.” I don’t want to take credit where none is due.
“She came that way,” Steven added.
The lady told us some troubles she was having with a dog she had rescued and petted Tabby before it was time for her to join the ceremony. Part of the ceremony was a small table set up with an empty chair. As a man was explaining the symbolism, I looked down and noticed our well-behaved dog had slipped her leash and wondered off. It was obviously not the moment to yell, “Where’s my dog?” which is our method at home when we don’t know where she is. Steven spotted her standing under a tree looking around. She wagged her tail when I went up to her and got her back on the leash. She stayed with us, so we could pay attention to the rest of the ceremony.
The table I was talking about had lemon on the plate to symbolize the soldiers’ bitter fate, and salt to symbolize the tears shed for them. The wine glass was upside down because they could not raise a toast with us, and the chair was empty because they were not with us. Then several people read the names of soldiers who were POW/MIA from Vietnam. The master of ceremonies read a story of one individual believed killed in action, putting a face to the name. He also read an excerpt from a book which I believe was titled Body of Secrets.
It was a short ceremony, but very moving. It was sometimes difficult to hear people talk, since they weren’t miked, but somehow that was appropriate too. We left feeling solemn and glad we went. I was especially glad to be mailing post cards to soldiers. I said an extra prayer for all who served.
Mohawk Valley Girl 