Tom waits.

 

 

A lingering pair draws a LEO’s attenition.

 

 

Most of us would rendezvous at the church, but I was among those at the funeral home.  The mood was somber.

 

Then Fred sat on Ro’s bike.  For some reason, that makes us smile.

 

 

The Patriot Guard Riders are united by our mission, but we are further bonded by our bikes.  Six days before the funeral I rode home from a mission in the rain and in the dark.  One day before the funeral I again rode home from a mission in the rain and in the dark.

 

But if we arrived in cars, stood around for a while, and then left in cars, I don’t think the repeat turnout would be as great.  Devotion to mission, yes; turnout, no.

 

 

I saw Travis carry a snowboard into the funeral home and learned that it would be cremated along with Matthew.

 

Travis is Matthew’s brother and a very fine soldier, so it was a double honor to have him greet us.

 

 

We moved in procession to St. Hubert Catholic Church where Travis would be introduced to PGRider Cote by Drill Sergeant Cote.

 

 

When we first arrived, the PGRiders were in position surrounding the area where Matthew would be transferred from the hearse to the church.  Within our perimeter there were two formations:  the Honor Guard and the Hawks.

 

 

I found my place in the flagline – there would be no photography of the transfer.  As it was in the hanger three days earlier, I was unable to watch the event while I stood at attention.  I later learned that when Fred coordinated our salute, the football players joined us by taking a knee.

 

That must have bee quite a sight.  Lowering to one knee on command is a combination of football protocol, Catholic grace, military courtesy and civil gratitude.

 

There was an hour of visitation before the service, so we held our formation.  During that hour, Matthew’s step-father moved along our line shaking hands and taking time with each of us to express the sincerity of their appreciation.  A little while later, Matthew’s mother did the same.

 

 

Then the service began and we were allowed to break.  We leaned our flags in the corners of the building and moved back to the bikes to wait.  All of us.

 

All of us except one of us who chose to continue to stand in his place, instead.

 

 

A Religious Education class dismissed and these four heard that a soldier’s funeral was soon to end.  They wanted to stand in honor too.

 

 

So we handed them flags.

 

 

I was glad to get this photo of the bugler because he would do a fine job.  Later I would be standing with my flag facing him as the time for Taps approached.  I would see him disappear around the corner of the building blowing through his pressed lips, warming-up.

 

It occurred to me that a bugler is like place-kicker:  He has very little to do; he performs for only a very short time.  But when he does, he will either succeed or fail, and everyone will know it.  And no one can help him.

 

 

Another soldier waited outside with us.  He guarded the five rifles, caliber 5.56, model M16A4.

 

 

Then five soldiers picked-up the five M16s, three volleys were fired and Taps was bugled.

 

 

After the hearse was loaded, we held our formation.  The good-byes were done and the hearse would slowly move away.  The Patriot Guard, the Honor Guard, the football players and the family would remain.  Matthew and his snowboard would soon be ashes.

 

Major General Fontaine took this first opportunity to handshake challenge coins to each member of the Honor Guard.  Two days before the firefight that would mortally wound Matthew, Yves Fontaine took command of the Army Sustainment Command.  They procure and deliver every round of ammunition, every gallon of fuel, every spare part and every MRE where ever it is needed around the globe, including the front lines, and quickly.

 

 

It is a big job, comparable to the CEO of a multinational manufacturer/distributor.  His time is probably scheduled to the minute, 24/7.  It is a measure of the military’s regard for its members that he was here.

 

 

And it is a measure of the regard of the public for Matthew that this Marine was there.  And there and there and there.  I don’t think I have ever spoken with him but I took his portrait at the escort, at the beginning of the visitation when I was there with Kevin, at the end of the visitation when it was raining and dark and at the funeral.

 

 

He was a Captain and wears the ribbons for his three medals on his hat.

 

 

He just quietly does his job as he understands it.

 

As do all the others.  I don’t know many individual stories.  Some took a day from work, and some paid a hotel bill as well.  Some think about their children, some their buddies.  Some want the war to end immediately, some want it to widen.

 

I take portraits to make a record.  These are people who stepped forward for Matthew – many different people united in this purpose.  As a PGRider, I look at these portraits with pride.  His family will look at these portraits with wonder.  Future historians will look at these portraits when they try to understand the United States of America at the beginning of the 21st Century.

 

 

And you don’t have to be a veteran to stand in a PGR flagline.  In fact, those of us who are not veterans have an even higher duty to step forward now.  Travis picked the quotation that was printed on Matthew’s memory card which speaks to this point.  It was argued by the brilliant economist John Stuart Mill (1806-1873) and is a belief I have come to late:

 

War is an ugly thing, but not the ugliest of things. The decayed and degraded state of moral and patriotic feeling which thinks that nothing is worth war is much worse. The person who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing which is more important than his own personal safety, is a miserable creature and has no chance of being free unless made and kept so by the exertions of better men than himself.

 

On that memory card were the birth and death dates of one of those better men, Matthew Michael Martinek:

 

December 7, 1988

 

September 11, 2009

 

December 7th is the anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor when some 23 hundred Americans died, mostly military.

 

September 11th is the anniversary of the more recent attack when some 3 thousand Americans died, mostly civilian.

 

Fitting dates for a soldier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Albums of staging & portrait photography.

 

 

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