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The Military Death
NPR had asked for an obituary on a Navy SEAL who died in Afghanistan two weeks ago.
In the West, death is usually an unpleasantness, an awkward timegap filled with either pain or often overwrought gestures in which hardly anyone knows the suitable thing to do. Our best intention is to cluster around the dead and position ourselves so as to mirror our relationship to the bereaved. Almost no where else in life do humans voluntarily categorize themselves so readily: I’m a friend and this is my proper role, I’m the cousin and this is my proper role.
That’s what happened at the funeral. The unstated focus was on the fiancée. Her eyes looked rubbed raw. Mourners floated around afraid to leave a permant impression. The officers in charge of services divided the mourners into two groups. Those presumably sanctioned by the family stood behind the parents under a canopy while the rest made a large crescent facing the fiancée on the other side of the casket. Having to look upon her was the price of admission.
The ceremony was succinct and efficient. The guns made everyone jump even though everyone knew it was coming.
The military funeral, of course, has an extra onus, an odd conundrum built within: they must show that the solider will be missed while at the same time claiming his life as expendable. The way this is done is through duty, like this from the bugler:
The military is probably right in that, any introspection only leads to doubts and worry and pain.
Online memorials are here and here.
Posted by 1000monkeys on July 22, 2005 10:37 PM