The Cage - Project Update - Sep 12, 2019

Hi, <<First Name>>,

Developing this book is a story in itself. It’s been a fascinating adventure of discovery. I’ve had some stumbles that are somewhat embarrassing to me, but that you might actually find interesting. Here’s a quick one, which few of you already know.

One of the Marines to be featured in the book is Ray “Machine Gun” Kelley (a machine gunner). In May, last year, Ray received the Silver Star Medal, which is the US Armed Forces' third-highest personal decoration for valor in combat. Although the original paperwork was lost in the mess of war, Ray’s actions in combat were never forgotten and his former platoon commander, Captain Spear, worked relentlessly to make sure he was recognized for an event that occurred more than fifty years past. I don’t want to spoil the story, so you’ll have to wait for the book to read about that day.

Anyway, I wanted to see Ray’s Silver Star presentation, which was to be held in the National Museum of the Marine Corps in Virginia. My dad, who was attached to the same company, was to go with me, but last-minute issues prohibited him from traveling. Still, he urged me to go on ahead and stand for him.

When I arrived, I asked one of the museum staff where I was to go for “the ceremony”. The young girl pointed me through a door. Inside, there was a stage, a projection screen, and stadium seats that went vertically high to the back wall of the auditorium. There were a lot of older folks piling in as well as some veterans in wheelchairs. So, I took a seat in the very middle of the top row. It wasn’t long at all before the seats both to the right and to the left of me were filled.

The presentation began with a benediction and a brief slideshow that ended with the title “Memorial Service, 1st Battalion, 7th Marines, Vietnam, 566 KIA”.
 

I was immediately confused. This is supposed to be a Silver Star ceremony, not a memorial service, I thought. Perhaps this is just some kind of preamble to Ray’s part? But as the minutes passed, I began to realize that I was not in the right place. The girl who’d ushered me in, it seems, was not aware that there was more than one event occurring in the museum that day.

So, I looked to my right, closest path to the door, and started sizing up my journey through the aisle. You know - “sorry, scuse me, sorry, pardon me, oops, no don’t get up, I got it, sorry, watch your foot...” But just as I was about to stand, they began to read off the names of those 1/7 Marines who were killed in action - all five-hundred and sixty-six, from A to Z. Of course, I was not about to get up and walk out while they were reading off the names of the dead. I sat still and respectfully listened. 

It takes a long time to read that many names. Suffice it to say, I missed the presentation of Ray’s Silver Star, which was occurring at the same time, on a different floor in some other room. But, I can’t honestly say that I’m sorry about that now. In fact, I might even call it fortuitous - a sort of grace. 

Like I said, it takes a long time to read so many names and they all sounded familiar. Chapman, Miller, Mills, Roland, Reid, Scott, Williams. So many of the names were like the names of boys I went to high school with. Had I been born a generation prior, they could have been my friends - several of them. Hell, one could’ve been me.

It takes a long time to read so many names and a lot of thoughts go through your mind during such a solemn procession. Five-hundred and sixty-six. It’s just a number. Slides right off the tongue. In a book, the number might pass with a sentence like a car on the freeway. But each name, spoken one after the other, in that setting full of Marine veterans, widows, children, and grandchildren… it really puts things in perspective. 

It was a powerful moment that taught me that I have a responsibility as a writer to do the same - to put things in proper perspective - to stop readers in the moments that matter, block the exit to their left and right, and shoot truth home into the heart. It was a powerful moment that taught me that when it comes to dying for our country, even one is no small number.

The good news is that Ray’s presentation was recorded, so I finally got to see it. He sent me a copy on DVD and with his permission, I’ve made it available online for those who may also wish to watch it.

Errata