The Experience

If you think this is too long then it wasn't written for you


I was asked to write about an experience that I had this afternoon and honestly, my only fear is that in doing so I will not be able to do it justice. A few days ago an e-mail found its way into my inbox that told of the death of a Corporal in Iraq. In my work I have several, what I call “Reference Sites” that I check out each day. One of these gives me a notice every time a Soldier, Sailor, Airman or Marine is killed anywhere in the world. What made this e-mail different is that it was not from that site, it was from my mom. It informed me that the soldier who was killed was the son of missionaries in Estonia and that his brother is on a mission team in the Ukraine. It happened to mention that he would be interred at Arlington National Cemetery (ANC) on 25 January 2006. I immediately decided that if there was any way I could do it, that I would go. So today at 1230 I called ANC from the road and asked where I needed to go in order to attend the internment. Not wanting to invade on anything I pictured myself standing off next to some tree watching the funeral and silently praying for the family. This was not how it went down. I was told that I should pull into the line of cars outside the “Memorial Gate” and wait for the procession to start. I was to follow the hearse until it stopped and then follow the directions given by the soldiers of the 3rd Infantry Regiment, US Army, the Old Guard. At 1250 I pulled into the back of the line of cars and in a few minutes entered ANC.

For those of you who have never been to ANC, it is a sobering experience on the happiest of days. The rows upon rows and fields upon fields of white marble tombstones are the first thing that overwhelms you. From the right angle it can look like snow covered plain even in the middle of summer. The wind was blowing hard. The weatherman said it was going to be gusting up to 40 mph today and I remember feeling the wind blowing against the Jeep pretty hard as we drove up the hill. The temp was in the low 40s but with the wind it felt like it was in the 30s. The directions given by the SGT from the 3rd IR did not allow for my viewing from a distance. After coming to a stop I got out of the car and slowly walked forward to the gathering group. The SGT ushered us all to the rear of the hearse. Being tall and insecure of my being there I stood at the back and was able to watch everything. The 6 honor guard troopers marched up to the hearse and removed the flag draped coffin and carried it up the grassy hill to the waiting bier. Once it was set, the family and everyone was ushered to the gravesite. Intentionally staying to the back I was caught of guard by the number of fresh graves in the area, and then I realized that we were in the Global War on Terrorism section (Operation Enduring Freedom in Afghanistan and Operation Iraqi Freedom). These were the graves of the men and women who had died since the attacks of 9/11. The wall of the Pentagon that had been hit in the attacks was clearly in view.

When we got to the gravesite I stayed at the back of the group. I could clearly see the backs of the Corporal’s mother, father, brother, sisters, and niece (she looked about 3 months old). Of course he was not a Corporal to them. He was their brother, son, and uncle. He was Dustin, the guy they had grown up with, shared so much with and loved dearly. The Kendalls are a good looking family by any definition but they were obviously heart-broken. I can only imagine that they were jet-lagged as well, having flown in from all over the world to say “good-bye.” Almost all of them were noticeably crying as the Army Chaplain began his short speech. Of course I do not remember all the words he spoke but I remember noticing how each of the family straightened up as the word of God was read. It was as if they were drawing strength directly from it and could not allow themselves to miss a word.

“What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written:
"For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered."
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Even as the words were being read the father began nodding slowly in affirming what he had just heard, as if he was remembering that he was on the winning team. About this time the baby niece started crying and was passed off to what I would assume to be an extended family member. This break in the silence made me think of my own children and for a moment I thought about how difficult it would be to explain to one of my precious girls how wonderful their Uncle Andy was. When I realized what an impossible task that was I was thankful that I remembered my sunglasses, because I was starting to tear up.

The chaplain continued for a short while and gave a really encouraging speech. He spoke of the family’s biblically acknowledged right to mourning but how Christian death and Christian burial is unique among all faiths of the world. It is wrapped in hope and bound up in the knowledge that it is not the end, but the true beginning.

The chaplain concluded by saying, “God sent his son Jesus Christ to earth to save us, Christ led the perfect life but was sacrificed in our stead. But He was raised to life and now sits enthroned at the right hand of God. For us here today, this is a matter of faith. Today, for Corporal Dustin Kendall, it is a matter of FACT, a matter of REALITY." With this the Chaplain led the Lords Prayer and stepped aside. Up stepped a Brigadier General that had been standing off to the side. The honor guard folded the flag that was draped on the coffin and handed it to the General who slowly saluted the flag before taking it. Upon taking it the honor guard saluted the flag as well. The General then moved to the mother, handed her the flag and said “On behalf of a very grateful nation, we thank you for your son’s honorable service and as he honored his country in life, we will honor him in his death." The General then presented a flag to the brothers and sisters as well. The General then turned and took two small boxes and handed the first to the father. “Your son, Corporal Dustin Kendall is hereby awarded the bronze star for faithful…” the General really started choking up here “…service to his country and courageous actions in the field of battle.” The General then presented the same to the brother and sisters and stepped aside. An ANC official then stepped up and pointed out the honor guard firing team about 50 yards away up the hill. They fired three shots and then a lone bugler at the top of the hill played “Taps.” I was really thankful for my sunglasses.

At the conclusion of “Taps” we were all dismissed back to our cars so that we could drive to a separate part of ANC to talk with the family. The family stayed alone with the casket for some time. As I watched them from the Jeep with the heater blowing full blast I couldn’t help but think, when are you able to say “Okay, I am ready to leave the casket?”

After a few minutes the family got in their limousines and the procession drove to a distant part of ANC and everyone got out. I thought about leaving but really wanted to say something to the parents. I walked up to the father and shook his hand. I had been trying to think of something encouraging to say but could not think of anything. I said “Sir, my name is Sam and I work with the Department of Defense.” I could tell he thought I was about to ask him to move his car or something so I said, “My mom is good friends with Dottie Schulz with the Missions Resource Network and she sent me an e-mail regarding the internment today. “I just wanted to let you know that you, your son and your family have my respect and gratitude. “It is obvious that you have raised a family dedicated to setting the captives free.” He nodded and said “I keep telling people that this is all part of the gift. “I know where my son is, I know where I can find him. God will see us through all of this and we will see Dustin again someday.” "You guys are doing great work down there at MRN!", He went on. I told him that I was not with MRN but that I agreed with him. With that we shook hands and he turned to talk to a LT from Dustin’s Unit. I shared a similar conversation with Dustin’s mother and then got in the Jeep and headed back to work, amazed that I could be so moved by the internment of someone I didn’t even know. That I would shed tears over a family’s loss that has no connection to me. As I drove back to Fort Belvoir I tried to sort it all out, why had it been so moving?

The Symbolism

I admit that I am a sucker for symbolism, but the whole day seemed draped in it. It was as if the Lord had laid things out so plainly today and did not want a lesson to be missed. We had stood there on the hill in the cold huddled together because that is what people do when times are hard, they draw together, yet there was no warmth in this group. It was only when the bright afternoon sun would shine down on us through some brief break in the clouds that there was warmth. I could almost hear the Lord reminding us, “No matter what you see, what you feel, I am Here with you.” To watch a mother cradle a flag as she had once cradled a baby boy. To hear the sweet innocent cry of a baby in the midst of so many innocents. As we drove off from the gravesite I cried as I looked up the hill and saw only the mahogany casket, facing eternity alone, as we all must.

The Faith

The faith that was so obvious in the family could not help but be moving. As someone who works with the military I was reminded of the old strategic concept of 2-2-1. The concept dictated that the US military should maintain the capability to simultaneously fight 2 enemies on 2 separate fronts with the guarantee of one decisive victory. I could not help but think that the Kendall family had been working under the same concept. They have been fighting both the spiritual and physical forces of tyranny, enslavement and death on two separate fronts and today I was able to witness their confidence in the ONE decisive victory!

The Gratitude

Even on a sightseeing trip you cannot go to ANC without a profound sense of gratitude. Thousands and thousands of men and women who served their country in order to let us do whatever we did today (Is what you did today worth that sacrifice?) But standing alongside the warriors of the Lord today I could not help but be overwhelmed by their sacrifice. Their daily decision to get out of bed and fight! Their determination that they would not lose anymore! Their resolve that they would stand, they would walk, and come what may, they would finish the race, knowing that they will be greeted at the finish line by the One who is now holding their son.