thedrifter
06-18-07, 06:15 AM
Terry Burt: Paying tribute to a friend, and all Marines
By Terry Burt | Special to the Tribune
My friend Greg Murphy flew in from Iraq last week, and I finally lowered the faded old Marine Corps flag that flew from my garage since shortly after the bombing of the Twin Towers in 2001.
The intent six years ago was to let those passing my street see a visual symbol of support for American troops in harm’s way.
The plan was to bring it down when they all came home at the conclusion of hostilities.
Unfortunately such symbols made of cloth aren’t strong enough to survive more than 2,000 days of Wisconsin weather.
Wars sometimes last longer than the serviceable life of military banners. This one will, as did Vietnam and the American Revolution. Some conflicts work out better than others.
Sure, it once proudly sported the bright scarlet and gold colors of the Marine Corps with the renowned eagle, globe and anchor centerpiece. But this symbol was not meant to honor only Marines, it was for all American service members, regardless of service branch.
It was my small way of saying “I care,” to anyone who sacrificed their time and sweat, if not blood itself.
Now the banner’s scarlet is faded to an unseemly pink, and the gold is the dull yellow of a smoker’s teeth.
But I am a Marine veteran, and it was my garage. So there was never a doubt as to what flag would fly there. However, it would have meant as much had it been from the Army, Navy, Air Force or Coast Guard. But that’s for those guys to decide. My loyalty always has been and always will be to the Leathernecks.
Anyway, two years ago, Greg went off to a dangerous place in his capacity as a civilian employee training police in Iraq.
In his youth he was a combat-wounded Marine in Vietnam, so he was and is a Marine in my book.
For the past year my garage flag flew especially for him. He didn’t know it and still doesn’t unless he happens to read this.
Hopefully he’s having too much fun at home and on his Harley to read newspapers for awhile yet.
About a year ago I started telling my wife that the old banner was looking pretty worn but that I wanted to keep it aloft until all the Marines returned from Iraq and Afghanistan.
Later, she said “how about just leaving it up until Greg gets safely home?”
It should have come down earlier because of its condition. Any hard-core parade field military person might think it disrespectful to fly such a banner in this stage of its life.
It is not nearly as bright as it once was, I used to say to myself, adding, “but neither am I.“
So on it flew. Rain or shine. Summer or winter. Day or night.
At least once a week I’d trample a few of Dana’s flowers to reach the metal staff and unwind the wind-whipped banner so it could flutter free in all its three-foot-by-five-foot glory.
One night a wind storm ripped it from its top grommet but the old symbol never fell completely to the ground.
Made me think of this country and how over the centuries we’ve been buffeted by the storms but manage to get righted, patch things up and continue flying free.
This war may have outlasted the working life of my flag but it won’t outlast what that symbol stands for.
Ellie
By Terry Burt | Special to the Tribune
My friend Greg Murphy flew in from Iraq last week, and I finally lowered the faded old Marine Corps flag that flew from my garage since shortly after the bombing of the Twin Towers in 2001.
The intent six years ago was to let those passing my street see a visual symbol of support for American troops in harm’s way.
The plan was to bring it down when they all came home at the conclusion of hostilities.
Unfortunately such symbols made of cloth aren’t strong enough to survive more than 2,000 days of Wisconsin weather.
Wars sometimes last longer than the serviceable life of military banners. This one will, as did Vietnam and the American Revolution. Some conflicts work out better than others.
Sure, it once proudly sported the bright scarlet and gold colors of the Marine Corps with the renowned eagle, globe and anchor centerpiece. But this symbol was not meant to honor only Marines, it was for all American service members, regardless of service branch.
It was my small way of saying “I care,” to anyone who sacrificed their time and sweat, if not blood itself.
Now the banner’s scarlet is faded to an unseemly pink, and the gold is the dull yellow of a smoker’s teeth.
But I am a Marine veteran, and it was my garage. So there was never a doubt as to what flag would fly there. However, it would have meant as much had it been from the Army, Navy, Air Force or Coast Guard. But that’s for those guys to decide. My loyalty always has been and always will be to the Leathernecks.
Anyway, two years ago, Greg went off to a dangerous place in his capacity as a civilian employee training police in Iraq.
In his youth he was a combat-wounded Marine in Vietnam, so he was and is a Marine in my book.
For the past year my garage flag flew especially for him. He didn’t know it and still doesn’t unless he happens to read this.
Hopefully he’s having too much fun at home and on his Harley to read newspapers for awhile yet.
About a year ago I started telling my wife that the old banner was looking pretty worn but that I wanted to keep it aloft until all the Marines returned from Iraq and Afghanistan.
Later, she said “how about just leaving it up until Greg gets safely home?”
It should have come down earlier because of its condition. Any hard-core parade field military person might think it disrespectful to fly such a banner in this stage of its life.
It is not nearly as bright as it once was, I used to say to myself, adding, “but neither am I.“
So on it flew. Rain or shine. Summer or winter. Day or night.
At least once a week I’d trample a few of Dana’s flowers to reach the metal staff and unwind the wind-whipped banner so it could flutter free in all its three-foot-by-five-foot glory.
One night a wind storm ripped it from its top grommet but the old symbol never fell completely to the ground.
Made me think of this country and how over the centuries we’ve been buffeted by the storms but manage to get righted, patch things up and continue flying free.
This war may have outlasted the working life of my flag but it won’t outlast what that symbol stands for.
Ellie