BBNovaRacing.com

FRIDAY MORNING AT THE PENTAGON

Here is something the media should be ashamed of for their
indifference, and especially the New York Times conglomerate, which
includes The Lakeland Ledger. Imagine this happening every Friday for
four years and not one word of coverage by the media -- shame on
anti-Americanism practiced by brain washed slaves for money.

By JOSEPH L. GALLOWAY McClatchy Newspapers

It's that time of year again. Memorial Day weekend is the beginning of
summer fun for most Americans, and as I've done before in this space,

I want to pause to take note of the real reason there is a Memorial Day.
It's meant to honor and pay our respects to those Americans who've given
their lives in service to our nation, who stand in an unbroken line from
Lexington's rude bridge to Cemetery Ridge to the Argonne Forest to the
beaches of Normandy to the frozen Chosin Reservoir to the Ia Drang
Valley to the sands of Kuwait to the streets of Baghdad.

Over the last 12 months, 1,042 soldiers, Marines, sailors and Air Force
personnel have given their lives in the terrible duty that is war.
Thousands more have come home on stretchers, horribly wounded and facing
months or years in military hospitals.

This week, I'm turning my space over to a good friend and former
roommate, Army Lt. Col. Robert Bateman , who recently completed a
yearlong tour of duty in Iraq and is now back at the Pentagon. Here's Lt
Col. Bateman's account of a little-known ceremony that fills the halls
of the Army corridor of the Pentagon with cheers, applause and many
tears every Friday morning.
It first appeared on May 17 on the Weblog of media critic and pundit
Eric Alterman at the Media Matters for America Web site.

"It is 110 yards from the "E" ring to the "A" ring of the Pentagon. This
section of the Pentagon is newly renovated; the floors shine, the
hallway is broad, and the lighting is bright. At this instant the entire
length of the corridor is packed with officers, a few sergeants and some
civilians, all crammed tightly three and four deep against the walls.

There are thousands here.

"This hallway, more than any other, is the `Army' hallway. The G3
offices line one side, G2 the other, G8 is around the corner. All Army.
Moderate conversations flow in a low buzz. Friends who may not have seen
each other for a few weeks, or a few years, spot each other, cross the
way and renew. Everyone shifts to ensure an open path remains down the
center.

The air conditioning system was not designed for this press of bodies in
this area. The temperature is rising already. Nobody cares.
10:36 hours: The clapping starts at the E-Ring. That is the outermost of
the five rings of the Pentagon and it is closest to the entrance to the
building. This clapping is low, sustained, hearty. It is applause with a
deep emotion behind it as it moves forward in a wave down the length of
the hallway.
"A steady rolling wave of sound it is, moving at the pace of the soldier
in the wheelchair who marks the forward edge with his presence. He is
the first. He is missing the greater part of one leg, and some of his
wounds are still suppurating. By his age I expect that he is a private,
or perhaps a private first class.

"Captains, majors, lieutenant colonels and colonels meet his gaze and
nod as they applaud, soldier to soldier. Three years ago when I
described one of these events, those lining the hallways were somewhat
different. The applause a little wilder, perhaps in private guilt for
not having shared in the burden .. yet.

"Now almost everyone lining the hallway is, like the man in the
wheelchair, also a combat veteran. This steadies the applause, but I
think deepens the sentiment. We have all been there now. The soldier's
chair is pushed by, I believe, a full colonel.

"Behind him, and stretching the length from Rings E to A, come more of
his peers, each private, corporal, or sergeant assisted as need be by a
field grade officer.

"11:00 hours: Twenty-four minutes of steady applause. My hands hurt, and
I laugh to myself at how stupid that sounds in my own head. `My hands hurt.'
Shut up and clap. For twenty-four minutes, soldier after soldier has
come down this hallway - 20, 25, 30. Fifty-three legs come with them,
and perhaps only 52 hands or arms, but down this hall came 30 solid
hearts.

"They pass down this corridor of officers and applause, and then meet
for a private lunch, at which they are the guests of honor, hosted by
the generals. Some are wheeled along. Some insist upon getting out of
their chairs, to march as best they can with their chin held up, down
this hallway, through this most unique audience. Some are catching
handshakes and smiling like a politician at a Fourth of July parade.
More than a couple of them seem amazed and are smiling shyly.

"There are families with them as well: the 18-year-old war-bride pushing
her 19-year-old husband's wheelchair and not quite understanding why her
husband is so affected by this, the boy she grew up with, now a man, who
had never shed a tear is crying; the older immigrant Latino parents who
have, perhaps more than their wounded mid-20s son, an appreciation for
the emotion given on their son's behalf. No man in that hallway, walking
or clapping, is ashamed by the silent tears on more than a few cheeks.

An Airborne Ranger wipes his eyes only to better see. A couple of the
officers in this crowd have themselves been a part of this parade in the
past.

"These are our men, broken in body they may be, but they are our
brothers, and we welcome them home. This parade has gone on, every
single Friday, all year long, for more than four years." Did you know
that? The media hasn't told this story.

_________________
Dick MacKenzie

''Life's tough......it's even tougher if you're stupid.'' -- John Wayne