As citizens, it’s easy to start to believe that everything we enjoy in this great nation is a result of our “tax dollars” hard at work. However, in truth, the freedoms and way of life we enjoy today is thanks to the men and women who continue to keep our nation safe. And over the years, many of these fine soldiers have made the ultimate sacrifice on our behalf, often laying down their lives on foreign land to prevent warfare on our soil. In this fictional story, an elderly woman arrives at a military cemetery with four flowers and finds a kind marine who’s more than happy to help her honor her fallen heroes.
I just wanted to get the day over with and go down to Smokey’s. Sneaking a look at my watch, I saw the time, 1655. Five minutes to go before the cemetery gates are closed for the day. Full dress was hot in the August sun. Oklahoma summertime was as bad as ever–the heat and humidity at the same level – both too high.
I saw the car pull into the drive, ’69 or ’70 model Cadillac Deville, looked factory-new. It pulled into the parking lot at a snail’s pace. An old woman got out so slow I thought she was paralyzed; she had a cane and a sheaf of flowers–about four or five bunches as best I could tell.
I couldn’t help myself. The thought came unwanted, and left a slightly bitter taste: ‘She’s going to spend an hour, and for this old soldier, my hip hurts like hell and I’m ready to get out of here right now!’ But for this day, my duty was to assist anyone coming in.
Kevin would lock the ‘In’ gate and if I could hurry the old biddy along, we might make it to Smokey’s in time.
I broke post attention. My hip made gritty noises when I took the first step and the pain went up a notch.
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