Final Thoughts 6/16/2011

A Soldier Remembered...

By John Thomas Grant

Another Memorial Day has come and gone; another summer greets the weary winter traveler. It is on this hallowed day, that we Americans should set aside a personal moment to remember those brave men and women, that their lives for the freedoms that the rest of us will forever be grateful. Memorial Day is not exclusive to the United States, many other nations remember their fallen in similar fashion - Netherlands/May 4th, Poland/Nov. 11th, Italy/Nov. 4th, United Kingdom/Second Sunday in Nov. or Nov. 11^th just to name a few.

There is one sad fact to war though, most mortalities fall on the ranks of the young. Barely out of their teens, if at all, these young heroes are denied the chance to fully appreciate that which we should not take for granted…a cherished life. As the saying so aptly states, “An old man’s war, a young man’s fight.” It is not lost on history, and for the foreseeable future, the young will continue to perish at the whim of despots and warmongers.

I was called upon, but I did not serve. Though my draft number was 54, the Vietnam War was in its final few months. Some time before, I had undergone some back surgery that flared up at just at about the time of my draft physical at Fort Hamilton in Brooklyn. The doctor took pity on me and I was spared. I’d probably have gone, but it became a moot point with the stroke of this angel’s hand. So now I remain to celebrate with all the rest of you, year after year, not fully understanding the trials the warrior had to endure, that sadly continues to this day.

Not until much later did the impact of the sacrifice of those brave souls become comprehensible. Not until my introduction to cemeteries did the pain of the message become clear.

Most military memorial gravestones are not usually big enough to carry an 'epitaph'. The average working dimension is 42" long, 13" wide, 4" deep; enough room only for name, a service, a company, a war(if any), and birth and death dates. That is not say that it is the only one, especially if the family of the soldier takes responsibility for the burial. In such cases, it is in all probability that something will be engraved on the stone relevant to the life, or the death, of their beloved hero. Some epitaphs take into consideration the emotions of those left behind.

The following are some that I have come across during my many cemetery adventures. The message is clear, the pain tangible.

As with my first epitaph, many epitaphs speak of the loneliness of battle death. The “Good Death” exists no more. Control of how and where we were to die, and under what conditions, came to a new understanding during the American Civil War.

The first picture is of Clarence McKenzie, drummer boy for Co. D, 13^th New York Regiment. He was the first casualty in that war from the city of Brooklyn. Clarence was 12 years old at the time of his death. He’s buried in Green-Wood Cemetery, Brooklyn, New York. I’m currently writing a young adult historical fiction about his life.

Far away from his home,

where his loved ones dwell,

the Soldier sank to ...

where no mother's tears o'er his pillow fell,

no kiss on his brow was pressed,

no brother was near to clasp his hand, 

nor sister his eyes to close,

but far, far away, in a strange land, he sank to his last repose. 1864

The next epitaph I found in Staten Island, New York. It's a compelling piece of emotion. I had so many deep feelings, bordering on melancholy, at the time of my first reading. It really speaks to the loneliness of the loss and the pain of a family left behind. The photograph of military graves was taken at Greenlawn Cemetery, Salem, Massachusetts.

God, hold your loving arms about him,

keep him in your tender care,

please make up all he had to suffer,

and everything that was unfair,

he little thought when leaving us,

he would return no more,

that he, in death, would soon so sleep,

and leave us here to mourn,

we do not know what pains he bore,

we did not see him die,

we only know he passed away,

and could not say Good-Bye.

1944

The following commemoration was taken from a Union song written during the Civil War by J.H. McNaughton, and it is one of the more popular pieces of music from that period. It has been recorded many times since. I found this on the statue that is shown in the photograph. His name was Gordon B. Meldrum. Gordon was born in New Caledonia, New York, in 1845, and died in the notorious Libby Prison in Richmond, Va., in 1862. He was a member of Co. B, 100^th New York Infantry. The epitaph is called “Faded Coat of Blue.”

My brave lad sleeps in his faded coat of blue.

In a lonely grave unknown lies the heart that beat so true.

He sank faint and hungry among the famished brave,

and they laid him sad and lonely within his nameless grave.

No more the bugle calls the weary one.

Rest, noble spirit, in thy grave unknown.

I'll find you and know you among the good and true,

when a robe of white is given for the faded coat of blue.

He cried, "Give me water and just a little crumb,

and my mother she will bless you for all the years to come.

Please tell me sweet sister so gentle, good, and true,

that I'll meet her up in heaven in my faded coat of blue.

Long, long years have passed, and though he comes no more,

yet my heart will startling beat with each footfall at my door.

I gaze o'er the hill where he waved his last adieu,

but no gallant lad I see in his faded coat of blue.

1865

Some spoke of the love of Country, and the necessary sacrifice. This next epitaph speaks to that fact. The photograph was taken in Beech Grove Cemetery, Rockport, Massachusetts.

Oh, my country, How sure I love thee.

On my youth I fought for, sought and

saw thy prosperity free all thy sons.

May thy freedom be universal and perpetual.

I leave thee. 1857

My last submission comes from the Great War itself; the “War to End all Wars.” This one was taken at a Ransom, Pennsylvania graveyard. The graveyard is actually behind me. My long gone friend sits by himself. Perhaps he wanted it that way. Perhaps he’d had enough of people and their wars.

In great deeds, something abides;

on great fields, something stays.

Forms change and pass; bodies disappear.

But spirits linger to consecrate the ground,

for the vision place of souls. 1914

My final photograph is from Cypress Hills Cemetery in Queens, New York. Hiram Cronk was the last soldier to have fought in the War of 1812. There will always be last soldiers, but there will be new wars to replace them, “Hallowed grounds they shall remain, as more will have cause to be.”

John Thomas Grant’s first book featuring his cemetery photography will be out this fall of 2011 by Schiffer Publishing. It is entitled “Final Thoughts: Eternal Beauty in Stone”. John’s work can be viewed at www.johnthomasgrant.com. John is partner with historical reenactor/lecturer, Lisa Griffiths-Lewis, at The Passion Projects, LLC. His email address is – jtgrant19@gmail.com.