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Posted by Deleted on May 30, 2013 14:59:32 GMT -6
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Enders stood facing the mirror his hands slowly adjusting each of the gold buttons so that they all stood upright the eagles facing upwards thirteen stars above it. Lifting the white cover off the stand he rested it on top of his head pulling the tip down so it ran parallel with the bridge of his nose and as his hands lowered to his sides he ran them across his chest ensuring no stray crease stayed on his coat. Turning the Marine walked out of the small room out into the sun of the May afternoon, light reflecting off the rack of medals that hung on his chest and the shine on his shoes a case gripped in his crisp white gloved hand.
The Marine was here for one purpose and moved with ceremonial precision as he marched towards his first destination his right arm swinging with years of drill engraved into it. He could ear the sounds of hushed whispers of adults and less muted questions of unknowing children as he marched across the fresh cut grass. Some asking what the red stripe down his blue pants meant others asking what the chevrons sewed on the sides of his dark blue coat meant, but the Marine just kept marching.
Each turn he pivoted as if in formation and as he stopped in front of the head stone his heals clicked together echoing with the military precision the man he stood in front of deserved. Leaning slightly to his left he placed the case on the ground before rising back up standing at attention his body rigid. Slowly his left hand rose from his side before his pointer and middle finger tips came to rest at the brim of his cover. He could hear the sound of camera’s clicking in the background as he stood paying honor it his fallen Marine, but he ignored it all. Slowly as his hand returned to his side he performed a left face and quickly took a knee before reaching into the case he had brought with him. As he moved through it the sound of glass clinking against each other entered into the quiet air and the Marine pulled out two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey before rising back to his feet and turning back to face the headstone.
Corporal Christopher Roy United States Marine, Enders eyes scanned the headstone as he rest one of the shot glasses on top of the stone slab. He remembered the young Marine as he unscrewed the whiskey bottle, he remembered the mans quiet nature with the occasional sarcastic quip that would come from his mouth. He remembered his determination to his other Marines and to himself. He remembered him as a great man and a even better friend. As Enders poured a shot into each of the two glasses he held his own out for a moment before taking it the fire burning itself into his throat. With the same military precision he placed one glass and the bottle back into the case before standing up again. Slowly he saluted the grave once more before collecting the case and marching off, he had another eleven sites to visit before the day was through.
Each was the same as he remembered the men that didn’t make it back from his unit the effects of the alcohol doing absolutely nothing to make each ceremony less meaningful or less meticulous than the last and as the Marine finally marched out of the graveyard he carried each of those brave mens memories with him.
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