Changing of the Guard

 Changing of the Guard

by Ed Doench

For more than eighteen years we had been together. Perhaps eighteen years is not all that long when compared to the couples with anniversaries celebrating thirty, forty, fifty or even more years of marriage. But, Beth and I had not been other couples; we had been ourselves and for nearly twenty years had shared one another’s joys and triumphs, argued over the bills, and watched as our daughter grew to approach adulthood. Ours had not been a perfect “storybook” marriage, but we had worked at it and it, in turn, had worked for us.

And then, just like that, she was gone.

I stood looking at the empty field, a nearly flat expanse of mown grass surrounded by tall trees and with a view of nearby Mount Hood. Willamette National Cemetery is carefully designed so that the thick tree line effectively muffles the noise of nearby traffic. The ground itself is pocked with a regular pattern of simple granite markers, each indicating the final resting place of either a military veteran or the spouse of one.

Eighteen years, with more than half of them during my military career. We were fortunate in that, by the time we married, my overseas deployments were behind me. That did not, however, mean that I would not receive a phone call in the middle of the night requiring that I respond to some natural disaster within the continental United States: a hurricane’s aftermath in Florida, spring flooding in North Dakota, an earthquake in southern California, a tornado’s devastation in Kansas. Usually, I would be gone for only a couple of weeks, but that would be time when she would be home alone with only our young daughter for company.

I looked down at the stone by my feet, then knelt and brushed away some stray pine needles and grass clippings that had gathered on top of it. My chest tightened as my fingers slowly traced the engraved letters of Beth’s name.

Then I felt a presence, as if someone had walked up to stand near me. I looked up, and it was as if a light mist had suddenly arisen. The field, which had just a moment ago been empty, was now occupied by the figures of several hundred people in the prime of youth. Off in the middle distance, I could see Beth talking to a handful of other women. She pointed me out to her companions, then waved at me, and smiled. I realized that she looked as young and radiant as she had on our wedding day.

Nearly all the men in the field were wearing military dress uniforms. Several of them from all services congregated together and walked towards me. I knew without asking that they all belonged to my own religion, although how I knew this I could not say. They stopped a respectful distance away and spoke among themselves for a moment, then one in a Coast Guard uniform stepped away from the delegation and walked up to me. I noted as the man approached that his uniform bore the insignia of a Senior Chief Petty Officer even though he, like everyone else, appeared to be in his mid-twenties.

The senior chief stopped just outside of arm’s length and looked at me for a brief moment, then turned his head and indicated the rest of the delegation. “We figured you would be here sooner or later.”

“What is all this?” I asked.

“It’s just our way of letting you know that she is not alone. She is in the company of friends and is quite happy.”

“I feel like I failed her,” I suddenly blurted out. “There had to have been something more that I could have done…”

“You did the best you could, son,” the senior chief interrupted. “She is always talking about how much you did for her, even before her accident, and frequently uses the word ‘indefatigable’ in describing your efforts afterward.”

“Really? I wasn’t aware that she even knew the word…it wasn’t part of her vocabulary.”

The senior chief chuckled. “People are a bit…different in that regard once they get here. You suddenly realize how much you hadn’t thought you knew. It can be a bit overwhelming, at first.”

I looked over so see her still chatting with her companions. “So, can I talk to her?”

“You can do that whenever you want, son. But that is not why we are all here, and she knows that. And your time among us is almost done, so we need to wrap this up.” He turned and nodded to the rest of the delegation, who quickly formed ranks and stood at attention. Behind them, the rest of the crowd slowly disappeared. My

wife gave me one last wave and blew me a kiss before she vanished into the tree line with her friends.

I looked back to the senior chief, who came to attention himself and popped off a salute that could have come straight from the parade ground.

“You can stand down, shipmate. You tour of duty is complete, and you have served with honor. We have the watch.”