Memorial Day

Memorial Day

May 15, 2026

Memorial Day comes. With it, for me, come the memories.

The burial ceremonies were on Friday afternoons at Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego, during the time of the Viet Nam War. We did our share of them. This one, I remember.

There was always a row of white plastic folding chairs at the Point Loma Military Cemetery in the green hills above the Recruit Depot, facing out over the Pacific Ocean. But this time, the time I am telling you about, there was only one person in the chairs. Still and straight she sat, in the center white chair, her hands folded in front of her on the navy blue fabric of her dress.

We walked up the hill in formation, three enlisted Marines and I, to the place beside the white chairs where the American flag flew. I called the three to attention in a line facing the flag. Suddenly, it was all very quiet.

One Marine stepped forward. He fired three blank rounds from an M14 rifle out over the Pacific. The brass casings of the rounds rattled down to the gravelled ground. He stepped back into the line.

The second Marine stepped forward. He put the brass bugle to his lips. He played Taps. He stood just still for a moment, the bugle still to his lips. Then, he stepped back.

The third Marine stepped to the flagpole. He hauled down the flag, but slowly. He unclipped the flag. He folded it into a tight triangle. He came to me. He saluted. I saluted. I, took the flag. He stepped back into line.

I left faced. I stepped in silent cadence to where the young woman sat. I stopped in front of her; right faced. Then, I looked at her. Her blue eyes looked up to me, clear and steady and straight. I bent forward, just slightly, holding out the flag to her, and she took it in her two hands, one on top, and one below the folded fabric, but looking to me the entire time. For one moment we held the flag together, my hands at the sides, hers on top and below… and out beyond, the quiet terrible vastness of the Pacific.

I stepped back from her two steps; right faced; stepped to the enlisted men; marched them back down the hill not looking back. But I felt those blue eyes following me, and I see them still, when Memorial Days come.