Gil A. Stricklin, USA Ret., Chaplin (Col.)

REFLECTIONS FROM ARLINGTON:
VALLEYS OF WEEPING, HILLS OF HOPE
Dallas, Texas

Chaplain (Colonel) Gil A. Stricklin, USA, Ret., completed 37 years in military in 1994, after serving in the Air Force, Army, and being attached to the Navy in Antarctica. This General's aide, special staff officer, and chaplain traveled around the world with the military in a variety of assignments. From service on the staff of the Office of Information, Secretary of the Air Force in the Pentagon to the Senior Protestant Army Chaplain at Arlington National Cemetery next door to the Pentagon, he achieved the rank of Colonel, plus receiving 13 military awards and medals, including the Legion of Merit. Today Chaplain Stricklin directs a staff of more than 1,500 corporate chaplains providing America's Employee Care Program nationwide through Marketplace Ministries.

The solemn, muffled drums were clearly heard above the cadence of the troop's marching feet and the clip-clop of the horses pulling the black-draped caisson and its flag-covered coffin. We wound our way through the most hallowed soil of our nation, Arlington National Cemetery, on the Virginia banks of the Potomac River, directly across from the Washington Monument.

This full honors military funeral for a Chief Warrant Officer and former senior helicopter test pilot was my 15th ceremony honoring the dead this week. Each funeral is different, yet the same, for each one is a pocket of sorrow in the heart of our nation's capital.

"How do you think I look, Chaplain Stricklin?" the 14-year old boy asked as we marched military style in the funeral procession. "Why, you look sharper than any young man I've ever seen. You look just great," I replied, trying to keep in step with the drumbeat.

The boy looked so young to be without a father, a father who encouraged him in church attendance, scouting, and school and family outings. Then, I thought about my two sons.

For a moment my mind wandered into history and I could hear the sounds of battle, with shells bursting and shouts of war. I could see the Union blue and Confederate gray with flags flying. I was the song, I guess, that took me back. These very cemetery grounds were first owned by General Robert E. Lee and his wife, with their house on approximately 250 acres. Now the cemetery encompasses more than 600 acres.

Soldiers of perfection from the 3rd Infantry Division (The Old Guard) are the body bearers who walk in flawless procession beside the caisson, with other troops and the colors in front. The family members follow slowly behind in air-conditioned cars.

The music stops, but the drumbeat continues as the processional moves on to the burial site. As we come to a halt, I take my place to the side where the shined and polished soldiers carefully and meticulously remove the coffin. The son of the man we are burying turns with me as we lead the troops to the freshly dug grave. Now the young lad takes his place beside his mother and sits down. Other family members and friends close ranks around the few chairs with green covers.

I speak carefully the final words and lead in a prayer. My portion of the interment is quickly concluded, but the military part of the ceremony continues. I slowly raise my white-gloved hand to the edge of my dress blue hat as the gun shots echo across the valley to the east, then the trumpeter blows Taps, which is played on every military post to end the day.

With perfect movement, sure and certain, each of the eight Old Guard soldiers performs his duty with absolute precision, as streams of perspiration roll down their faces like silent rivers. All their movements are smooth, lending themselves to military dignity, as they fold the flag that covered the coffin. The Officer in Charge, a captain whose handsome looks make him fit for a recruiting poster, gives me the flag and salutes the way the book teaches.

I turn to the tearful widow and walk to her, slowly bending down to place the perfectly folded flag, in the form of a triangle, into her outstretched hands. The triangle was the shape of soldiers' hats in the Revolutionary War. I softly speak sincere words, expressing the appreciation of a grateful nation for the d3edicated and faithful service of her dear husband. I raise up, step back, and salute.

A lovely Arlington lady, on special assignment from the Army's Chief of Staff, follows me to speak words of sympathy to the family. Her words are brief and she leaves the family a beautifully inscribed card containing details of the service.

I hug the young son and he hugs me back. I cannot say anything, but hope this communicates my deep feelings of love and sympathy in the loss of his father. I salute on last time as the car carrying the widow and young son slowly pulls away from the curb and drives out of sight.

The Army driver waits to return me for the 16th funeral, the final one for Friday afternoon. I thought much about the preceding week of activities as we drive to meet the family. One thing is for certain, the ministry at Arlington is the most meaningful experience I ever had during 37 years in the military. I will never forget it.

What an honor it was to have met some of our nation's finest families-to stand with them in their time of sorrow, to give hope and encouragement, and to be a representative of the U.S. Army and our grateful nation.

I was on duty for only six days as part of my specialized Army Reserve training, but there is a dedicated team of chaplains assigned to Arlington National Cemetery on a permanent tour of duty. Those Army, Navy, and Air Force ministers perform more than 8,000 funerals in a year. Each one is accomplished with sensitivity, sorrow, compassion, and love, as they seek guidance and strength for this heart-touching duty from Almighty God. Chaplains are on the front lines of sorrow and compassion as they stand with families of our nation's servants from California to Maine, and from North Dakota to Texas.

There were more tears than laughs at Arlington National Cemetery. The Word of God reminds us to "weep with those who weep," but I can imagine after weeks or months of funeral duty your tears have a tendency to dry up, but the compassion of your heart would not. Even though the chaplains direct more than 500 funerals a month at Arlington, they guard carefully that there are no "cookie cutter" services. They seek diligently and prayerfully that the family of the loved one may experience comfort, hope, and spiritual renewal, and that the service reflects grandeur, gratitude, beauty and dignity, providing fond memories forever.