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QUANTICO, Va. (10/2/2012) - It was a warm, sunny afternoon as the
funeral detail of Quantico's Ceremonial Platoon waited for the
hearse to arrive at Quantico National Cemetery on Sept. 13. Weather
is a factor in a job that requires standing at attention outdoors
for long periods.
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Marines from Quantico's Ceremonial Platoon smooth the American
flag over the casket at a funeral at Quantico National Cemetery
September 13, 2012. Photo by USMC Lance Cpl. Tabitha Bartley
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It was the group's second funeral of the day, and a few
members had participated in a color guard that morning.
The funeral caravan pulled in, and family members looked
on somberly as six of the Marines pulled the casket from the
hearse and carried it, with slow, synchronized steps, to the
nearby shelter.
The Marine Corps funeral ceremony is
about honoring the service and passing of fellow Marines,
but it is especially about their families, said Staff Sgt.
Evans Janvier, Ceremonial Platoon's staff noncommissioned
officer in charge. “It's kind of a tribute to show them what
the Marine Corps is really about. We mean what we say:
Semper fidelis, always faithful. We're going to be faithful
to the end.”
“There's definitely pressure — just the
fact that the family's right there, watching you lay their
loved one to rest,” said Cpl. William Foster, one of the
platoon's 16 members. “There's also the pressure of wanting
to do everything right because we want to honor our Marine
brothers and sisters.”
Whenever it can be found
online, the Marines read the obituary for the person they're
about to lay to rest before the funeral, a policy Janvier
instituted when he took over almost a year ago.
“This is not just another funeral, this is an individual,”
he said. “This is the family that's left behind.”
On
the afternoon of the 13th, though, all they knew was a name
and rank and the faces of the family members in attendance.
The motions of the ceremony are slow, graceful and
solemn.
“It's not like Marine Corps drill, which is snap
and pop,” said Cpl. Cody Kent, platoon member.
Marines of the platoon have distinct roles in the ritual,
but those can change. The Marine who was supposed to present
the flag to the next of kin at this funeral had a medal come
loose from his uniform. He had to be switched to casket
because the medal could have fallen off when he bent to hand
the flag over. This changed the order of the rifle line,
which has to run from tallest to shortest.
“You
never know what could come up, so we try to be pretty
interchangeable, with everybody knowing everybody's job,”
said Sgt. Matthew Brock, the detail commander.
After
the casket was laid on the beir, four of the bearers joined
the rifle line standing about 30 yards off. Foster and Lance
Cpl. Oscar Turcios remained to fold the flag into a neat
triangle while Brock stood at attention, watching them over
the casket. With deliberate, practiced motions, Turcios
folded the flag over on itself while Foster held the other
end.
They raised the folded banner three times,
chanting, “God, country, Corps,” and saluted. Then Foster
set about caressing any wrinkles out of the flag and
squeezing its edges, in a way that could look a bit peculiar
to an outsider.
“We want to show how much respect we
give the flag we're about to hand them to show our respect
for their family member and his or her service,” Janvier
explained.
Foster held the flag over the casket,
standing stock still, while the preacher delivered his
homily. Women sniffled and wiped their eyes. A man and boy
held their heads in their hands. Speaking of God's
compassion for their suffering, the preacher said, “He is a
man of sorrow, acquainted with death.”
Ceremonial
Platoon participates in these somber affairs an average of
three or four times a week. Members said they have to keep
some emotional distance and focus on their roles.
“We're so zoned in on the ceremony and the way we're going
to present it,” said Cpl. Cody Kent. “It's a hard time for
the family, but we just do our best to do the best we can
for them.”
“I'd say the most difficult part is
probably presenting the flag to the next of kin,” Foster
said. “I've definitely choked up a couple times. It's not an
easy job.”
Janvier said his Marines, all of whom are
assigned to him for nine months on temporary additional
duty, have to practice rigorously to make sure every move is
performed correctly with no slip-ups. They do strength
training to be able to carry the heaviest caskets and
practice to make sure the rifle line's volleys are
synchronized.
“I tell the Marines, one day we're
going to be on the other side, and we want to make sure our
family gets the best possible support they can,” he said.
After 15 minutes or so, the preacher wrapped up, the
rifle line fired the three-volley salute and “Taps” was
played.
The ceremony concluded with Foster standing
before the woman designated as next of kin, not knowing
whether she was the wife or mother of the deceased. He bent
to hand her the flag, looked her in the eye as he saluted
her and then turned and walked away.
By Michael DiCicco, Marine Corps Base Quantico
Provided
through DVIDS
Copyright 2012
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