Send Off

On July 6, 2004, I witnessed hundreds of men and women go through one life's hardest moments, the parting of ways with no way of knowing of safe return, or return at all. The emotion was contagious; men, women, and children all shedding tears for loved ones. Some tried to hold it in for a variety of reasons. The ones that succeeded will never testify to the pain they felt inside. I didn't really show my feelings, but I did put my thoughts on paper. I've seen this played many times before in the news but never in person.
The send off is an intriguing event in itself. There are television stations, community leaders, political figures, and many other strange faces. I didn't get involved in all the confusion because I wanted to see the entire picture. At the same time, I couldn't exile myself. Doing so would draw more attention to me than needed. What I saw was a bunch of kind hearts ready to do their part to support their troops going off to combat.
There many Marines that needed all this attention in order to help the facts set in. Every moment was precious time with their loved ones. Those who didn't have family present sought other comrades without family. Even recently discharged, Brian Minnifield graced us with his presence to get e-mail addresses and wish us good-bye.
It is a Marine Corps policy to do things professional and with little emotion. This was true in the way we were filed off to receive a care package and board the buses. We were told to go straight to the bus, but many used the time to say bye to family and friends. Once on the bus, the families lined the streets to send us off. We were escorted across town to the airport by police mounted on motorcycles.
I used this time to think about this whole event. It was a grand send off, but I want to see how grand the welcome will be. As I put my thoughts on paper, I was motivated by the tunes of David Banner's Untitled Track from Mississippi: The Album; it was appropriate for the thoughts dancing in my head.