And
Then He Said...(Not What You Think)
By
Jim "Gymbeaux" Brown June 3, 2015
There
I was at my desk when she called on the intercom, "Mr Brown, can you come
up front, I have a package for you."
I was pretty certain I knew what the package was. One of my assignments as the Chief, Military
Personnel Officer in the Third Coast Guard District office was also the
Decedent Affairs Officer so you can imagine what was in the package.
As
I approached the desk I could not help but notice the package had been damaged
in shipment and there was grey dust coming out of the hole that had opened
up. I said, "Oh that must be
Commander Henderson." Real name
withheld to protect the deceased. That
is all it took, the receptionist who called and to whom the mail was delivered
remembered what my job was and what was now all over her desk. She freaked out
like I have never seen anyone freak out before.
Seriously, she jumped away from her desk and went screaming down the
hall. We cleaned up the best we could
and put the good Commander back in his receptacle. It was a good hour before the receptionist
would return to her desk.
On
another occasion, same receptionist called, "You have another one of those
up here, come get it quick or I may quit!"
This time the package was in tack.
There was a problem however.
There was no return address and there was no paperwork inside the
wrapped receptacle. I had no advance
warning of the package arriving like I usually got therefore I had no idea whose
remains were in the package. I put the
package in the cabinet next to my desk on the top shelf out of harm's way. It sat there for a long time. The days, weeks and months passed by before I
received telephone call from a member of the deceased's family. This is how issues become major issues
because at first there was anger over the perceived treatment of the deceased
member. That simply was not the
case. There was no way to know from
where it came or whose remains were in the package. Once everything was cleared up, all went
well.
So
you know, we did not carry out funeral proceedings but we arranged for them
most of which were requests to be buried at sea. In fact everyone that I handled were such
requests. We would check the sailing
schedules of the Coast Guard Cutters that sailed out of New York where my
office was and then transported the deceased to the ship just before departure. The Commanding Officer would contact the next
of kin to set up any ceremony they desired on the dock before departure and on
some rare occasions the next of kin were even permitted to sail to the site
where the ashes were scattered at sea.
The problem with this is that they are Coast Guard Cutters and they can
be diverted on a moment's notice to participate on a Search & Rescue
Mission and they really shouldn't do that with visitors aboard. So sailing with visitors is a very rare
occurrence; why I am including this I have no idea. Maybe because of the next incident.
While
serving aboard the U. S. COAST GUARD CUTTER ALERT (WMEC-630) that sailed out of
Cape May, New Jersey, the Commanding Officer received a request for a burial at
sea. I do not know if he was told or not
but when the hearse pulled alongside the ship, a full size casket was
unloaded. We had burials at sea before
but never a full size casket; always ashes.
After a discussion, the Commanding Officer accepted the casket once he
was satisfied everything that was required had in fact been done. Specifically the funeral director was
required to drill large holes in the bottom of the casket and additional
weights added to insure that once put in the water it would fill with sea water
and sink. That was the plan. The casket
was loaded aboard and placed on the Flight Deck. Okay just so you know, the ALERT was only 210
feet long but it did have a Flight Deck that would accept helicopters. Off we sailed, all hands on board plus one, a
casket. I can assure you that there were
some of the "all hands" that avoided the Flight Deck like the
plague. It was not long before we were
on station and the Commanding Officer instructed most of the crew to form on
the Flight Deck where the he followed all the protocols and eventually the
casket was lowered into the sea with the proper salutes. We all remained at attention as this was
designed to take only a few minutes. So
when it didn't immediately sink the Commanding Officer placed us all at ease
but we remained in place. Time passed -
it seemed like hours but it surely was not that long. The Commanding Officer finally dismissed us
but most hung around the flight deck and leaned on the ships' railing to watch
the casket which was now bobbing in the Atlantic Ocean. It obviously did not want to sink. We could all see the holes they were now on
top, not on the bottom where the water would enter as intended. I specifically remember the Gunner's Mate
asking permission of the Commanding Officer to ready the 50 caliber gun which
was denied. Instead the Skipper tried to
maneuver the ship, remember it was 210 feet long next to the casket using the
rudder and ships' screws. He was trying
to get the ships' wash off the stern to wash over the casket, fill the casket
enough through the holes for it to sink.
You
can imagine a bunch of young men all leaning on the ships' railing and the
comments that started to freely flow.
For example, one was overheard to say "He must have been a
swimmer." Another, "Do you
think the Skipper will shoot it to make it sink?" Finally it sunk and then the comments changed
to what the Officer-of-the-Deck would put in the ship's log as to WHERE the
deceased was buried at sea, like, "Seaman John Doe, buried at sea
somewhere approximately 100 miles off the coast of New Jersey at a location
unknown between New York City and Cape May, New Jersey. So you wonder why the next of kin are not
usually invited to sail with their departed.
Not a good idea.
And
then there was the request to be buried at sea in the Hawaii District. I cannot swear this actually occurred but
enough people have told the story and that makes it true, right? The way the story is told is the request came
in just like it did in my office.
Unfortunately there were no ships that were going to sail any time soon
so someone thought of burying the deceased at sea from the air; what could
possibly go wrong with that? The
deceased was delivered to the Coast Guard Air Station and placed aboard a
helicopter, an HH-52 to be exact. Some
of you who know aircraft are already beginning to snicker. The helicopter lifted off and went over the
Pacific Ocean to a designed spot and the copters crew perform the dignified
ceremony as is so often performed by ship captains. But here is where it gets nasty. If you are familiar with helicopters you know
that there is a tremendous down force of wind created by the helicopter's
rotors and this copter was no exception.
So when the ashes were released, yes, you got it, some went into the sea
rather quickly, but most, yes indeed most were blown back into the depths of
the helicopter not to mention all over the air crewmen who were performing the
task. The helicopter was cleaned as best
it could be but there is no doubt that there are parts of the deceased flying all
over the Pacific Ocean garnering more air time than anyone could ever possibly
achieve.
It
gets better. At an official burial in a
local cemetery, the Chief Boatswain Mate, a good friend of mine, performed a
flawless ceremony. As he stood alongside
the grave site where the casket had been lowered, the Chief turned to the next
of kin with the properly folded American Flag and presented it to the next of
kin and said, "On behalf of a grateful nation....". But that is when it all went wrong. He stood erect, saluted the next of kin, did
an about face and yes, you may have guessed it, he fell into the grave site on
top of the casket. As he lay there, he
closed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest as he knew everyone would
now be looking into the site. Even the
next of kin had to laugh.
One
more, I promise. I had a new instructor
teaching a class of about 30 Coast Guard members. I was suppose to observe him and give him
tips after the class. Somehow we
finished a bit early and the discussion in the class was turned to decedent
affairs because that is what the new instructor did at his last duty station. So as he stood behind the podium, I stood on
the floor a little lower than the podium with my elbow resting on the
podium. He then proceeded to tell the
class exactly how a military funeral was to be conducted including exactly what
is to be said to the next of kin. I was
totally silent during his description of the event. When he was done there was a silence in the
classroom. That is when I said and I
quote, "Make sure to wash it in cold water so the red won't run into the
white." The instructor had to bite
his lip to keep from laughing. The
classroom remained silent, no one moved, no one laughed. Finally the instructor had to let loose and
roared with laughter. One of the
students put his hand up and asked, "Petty Officer Brown, do you mean you
don't really say that?" We all had
a fantastic laugh about it and realized we had to be careful what we said in
the classroom because they could not always tell when we were joking.
This
all leads up to the real reason I am writing this. I am concerned about when my turn comes, and
come it will. With each passing day it
is closer than you anyone could actually know.
Could be today, tomorrow, next week, next month or years from now - no
one knows for certain even those with terminal illness. I have been to a lot of funerals. Not sure how anyone other than the deceased's
immediate family can say they want to be there yet there are a lot of people
who attend to say their last goodbyes.
That may be true but I believe most are there because they expect that
others expect them to be there and they don't want anyone to think they didn't
care. Personally I don't want that to
happen to me. In fact I would (1) prefer
to be cremated and I'll explain why and (2) that a formal funeral not be conducted. If the immediate family wants to do something
on a small scale that would be fine. But
in truth I would be gone from the planet and why would I care what they
do? Let me tell you why....
You
probably have been to a funeral, most people have. Tell me this does not happen. Let's pretend that I am in my casket which is
now open to the public for viewing but dead as I may be, let's pretend I can
hear what is being said. Ready?
Shhh,
someone is approaching. I don't
recognize them. Then one says, "I
didn't know he was in the Coast Guard, did you?" No answer.
Then he says, "Come on dear, there are people in line, let's move
on." Ahhh, I remember these
folks. AND THEN HE SAID: "Geeeze he
doesn't even look like him does he?"
"Actually I haven't seen him in a while, looks a little old to
me." That is just what I needed to
hear; there are more coming. "Oh
my, what happened to him, what did he die from?
Must have been horrible, he looks terrible." Again that is just what I wanted to hear.
You
know I could go on. That is why I would
prefer to be cremated. Then there is no
one to look at, no criticisms to render, no touchy feely going on; you know
that is what happens. If a wake does
happen they can look at a box. What
could you possibly say about a box? More
importantly I would hope they would remember how our paths crossed and that
their lives were touched in some positive way because they crossed; not about how
I look or not look. It is hard to think
in those terms when you are looking down upon a body that does not look like me
or you for that matter. A quiet family-members-only
ceremony at the grave site in a national cemetery would be nice where they put
me up on a shelf and close the door but remember THAT IS NOT ME. No one needs to come visit me; I'm not
there. No one needs to place flowers
that will eventually die; I'm not there.
I promise, I'll come back to haunt anyone who places plastic flowers on my
site; I'm not there but I know where you live.
I
found this poem in an old book in a deserted and ransacked home and it remains
with me. You can change the words on the
poem so that it would apply to either a man or a woman. This one is for a man. Plus I added the last verse:
Measure of a Man
Not
– how did he die?
But
– how did he live?
Not
– what did he gain?
But
– what did he give?
These
are the units
To
measure the worth
Of
a man as a man
Regardless
of birth.
Not
– what was his station?
But
– had he a heart?
And
how did he play
His
God-given part?
Was
he ever ready
With
a word of good cheer,
To
bring back a smile
To
banish a tear?
Not
– what was his church?
Nor
– what was his creed?
But
– had he befriended
Those
really in need?
Not
– what did the sketch
In
the newspaper say?
But
– how many were sorry
When
he passed away?
Author
unknown
I
do not want to assume that I could make the poem any better than it already is,
yet I would suggest another verse:
Not -what he achieved
Nor - how much did he make
But - how many did he help to
find THEIR way?
How many achieved their life's
desires?
Who by not knowing what he did or
thought
May have travelled a good many
roads,
To a lot of places they'd prefer
not to go.
But instead arrived safe and
sound
To exactly where they wanted to
be
All because they took
The measure of this man.
Now that his time here on Earth
has passed
It is time to say our goodbyes
Wrap gently in brown paper
And tie it gently with twine and
a note
And in your own hand you write
"Return to Sender and Handle
With Care!"
Posts
