Chapter 4: Basic Training - Part 5

One day towards the end of basic training I was asked if I would volunteer to drive an honor guard to a funeral off base on Sunday. The funeral was for a soldier killed in Vietnam. Another driver volunteered to drive the rifle party. The honor guard would be the casket escort and the rifle party would be firing the 3-volley salute. There was a bugler in the group too, but I don't remember which van he rode in.

3-Volley Salute The 3-volley salute is a salute performed at military and police funerals as part of the drill and ceremony of the Honor Guard. A rifle party, usually consisting of an odd number of firers, usually from 3 to 7 firearms. The firing party is positioned such that, when they shoulder their arms for firing, the muzzles are pointed over the casket of the deceased who is being honored. On the command of the NCO-in-charge, the firing party fires their weapons in unison, for a total of three volleys. The three-volley salute is not to be confused with the 21-gun salute (or even lesser gun salutes, such as 19-gun or 17-gun, etc) which use cannon.

The night before the funeral, the drill sergeant in charge of the detail, supervised us as we prepared or uniforms for the next day. We had to look or best and our best it would be. We spent a good part of the time before lights out getting our uniforms ready, polishing our brass and boots and then spit shinning the toe of our boots. That's where I learned to spit shine my boots. Yes, you actually do spit on the boots.

The next morning we woke up extra early and ate breakfast before everyone else because we had to be on the road very early. After breakfast we got into our uniforms and stood inspection so the drill sergeant could make sure we were ready. After the inspection, I walked over to the motor pool with the other driver to pick up our vans. We drove the vans back to the company area and picked up everyone. The drill sergeant in charge rode with me.

The drill sergeant was very relaxed and very friendly that day. A friendly drill sergeant was strange to us, but we were getting very close to graduation and most of the bull shit had stopped by now. Still, the drill sergeants had a rep to up hold and a friendly drill sergeant just wasn't the norm.

The drive took about 1 1/2 hours, but we arrived at the church with plenty of time to spare. The church was a baptist church and looked pretty much like the one on Kingsley Lake I'd attended when I was growing up in Florida. A plain cinder block building lined inside with pews, but not much else.

Here I am that day in my finest army issue khaki's. The church is in the back ground.

The pastor came over and explained what the service would be like and showed us around. The honor guard did a dry run and then we all took our places to wait for everyone to arrive. I stood out in the parking lot near the van with the other driver, the bugler and rifle party.

Pretty soon the mourners started arriving and eventually filled the church. The honor guard took their position and was ready when the hearse pulled up. I think the hearse was waiting near by until everyone had entered the church, because as soon as the honor guard was ready, it pulled up.

The honor guard then escorted the casket into the church. One man from the honor guard was assigned to stand at each end of the casket. Every 15 minutes they would be relieved by two other men. They would repeat that until the service was over.

When the singing of the hymns started, I walked over to the church and looked in a window. Everyone was standing up and singing. I remembered most of the hymns from my days in church and sang along quietly to myself. My parents weren't big church goers, but I did go a lot on my own. I could walk to the Baptist church on Kingsley Lake or I went with my friend and his parents to their Episcopal church. They were in the choir and got me permission to sit with them. From day one in that church I was in the choir.

Not long before the service was over, the bugler and rifle party took their positions near the grave, out in the field behind the church. When the service ended, the honor guard escorted the casket out into the field and placed it over the grave. The pastor said a few words and then the 3-volley salute was fired.

Next the bugler played "Taps" and a chill ran up and down my spine as he played. I'm pretty sure I got the chills because this was the first time it really hit home that the young man we were there for had been killed in Vietnam. I knew it was almost certain that I'd be sent there too and what was happening and that some day I might be the one killed in combat and had Taps played over my casket. Then the flag was removed from the casket, folded and handed to one of the family. I think it was the man's mother.

Not to long after that, all of the soldiers headed back to the van. We all talked for a few minutes about what everyone had experienced. The drill sergeant told us how proud he was of all us and how good of a job we'd all done. He said that we should be proud of ourselves too, because we volunteered to do something very important. He reminded us of how much it meant to the family and friends of the deceased soldier. A few minutes later, the pastor and a few members of the family came over to speak to us. They wanted to thank everyone for what we did that day. That made everyone feel pretty special to be thanked like that.

On the way back to the post, the drill sergeant had me stop at a gas station and so we could make a pit stop and get a cold drink. The man at the gas station in the gas station asked us what we were all doing out here and when we told him, he wouldn't let us pay. We stood around talking for a few minutes until everyone had finished in the bathroom. Then we got back in the van and headed back to the base.

This was really my first direct exposure to the effects of the war in Vietnam. Before this funeral, almost everything I'd seen or heard about Vietnam was on the news or in the newspaper, but this was the first time I felt the effects in person.