tubatrophy
Member
Several years ago, I was on a Staff Ride to Sharpsburg, MD. For those who don't know, a Staff Ride is a military event where some senior person (in this case, my Sergeant Major) takes their staff to some place of military importance, and discusses the historical significance of that place. Since I lived fairly close, I decided to ride my bike that day.
We went to Antietam Battlefield to study one of the major pushes of the battle, and how it, and the casualties to that point, affected the outcome of the battle. At one point, the SGM had us all laying down in the Sunken Road, and looking at the cornfield where Soldiers came out wave after wave, just yards from the edge of the road. We finished up our analysis, and most of the people left for lunch. I took a few minutes to just sit in the cemetery and just think about what had happened there, and how much it had cost. There were over 22,000 casualties in one day, and over 4,000 deaths. I was particularly struck by how many unmarked graves there were. Headstones with just a number, no name. I wrote this while I was sitting under the flagpole you can just see in the distance.
Antietam
*********
It's peaceful today
In the field outside Sharpsburg.
Today, the duty-bound rest
In their beds, named or numbered.
Trees shield the creek today, and frame the rolling hills that were
the last sight of over 4,000.
The cannon are still on guard.
A chickadee sings his name, letting them know who, with the cannon, has the watch.
The named sleep secure, loved ones knowing what happened here - that this was the end of their war.
The numbered - unknown, not forgotten - whisper, remember.
Remember.
Remember.
Fierce in their dreams, "not for me, but for my country," they lie.
As do we all who serve, and remember.
As do we all.
And this is a picture of my 1996 Trophy 1200, outside the main cemetery gate. It's not 'Reflections' in the strictest sense, but I did a lot of reflecting on the battlefield that day, and on the ride home about what service means, and what I wanted my service to mean.
We went to Antietam Battlefield to study one of the major pushes of the battle, and how it, and the casualties to that point, affected the outcome of the battle. At one point, the SGM had us all laying down in the Sunken Road, and looking at the cornfield where Soldiers came out wave after wave, just yards from the edge of the road. We finished up our analysis, and most of the people left for lunch. I took a few minutes to just sit in the cemetery and just think about what had happened there, and how much it had cost. There were over 22,000 casualties in one day, and over 4,000 deaths. I was particularly struck by how many unmarked graves there were. Headstones with just a number, no name. I wrote this while I was sitting under the flagpole you can just see in the distance.
Antietam
*********
It's peaceful today
In the field outside Sharpsburg.
Today, the duty-bound rest
In their beds, named or numbered.
Trees shield the creek today, and frame the rolling hills that were
the last sight of over 4,000.
The cannon are still on guard.
A chickadee sings his name, letting them know who, with the cannon, has the watch.
The named sleep secure, loved ones knowing what happened here - that this was the end of their war.
The numbered - unknown, not forgotten - whisper, remember.
Remember.
Remember.
Fierce in their dreams, "not for me, but for my country," they lie.
As do we all who serve, and remember.
As do we all.
And this is a picture of my 1996 Trophy 1200, outside the main cemetery gate. It's not 'Reflections' in the strictest sense, but I did a lot of reflecting on the battlefield that day, and on the ride home about what service means, and what I wanted my service to mean.
