This weekend I was in DC for a moot court competition. I participated with a team from Michigan Law in the George Washington University Law School Religious Freedom Moot Court Competition. We didn't advance to the quarterfinal round, but that actually was for the best. It meant I got to watch a good friend participate in the quarterfinal round and then spend the afternoon Saturday and the morning and early afternoon Sunday with friends exploring DC. I hadn't been in DC since I was 12 years old, so I was looking forward to seeing all the monuments again. I was especially looking forward to seeing the World War II memorial, which wasn't completed the last time I was in DC.
As we were walking from lunch down toward the National Mall, we happened upon the US Navy Memorial Plaza on Pennsylvania Avenue between 7th and 9th Streets. The center of the circular memorial is a beautiful mosaic "Granite Sea" map of the world. Around the edges are quotations, everything from John Paul Jones' famous "I have not yet begun to fight!" in 1779 to Astronaut and Naval Aviator Neil Armstrong's famous proclamation from the moon in 1969. The most memorable for me, however, was the etching at the top of the memorial. The step at the back of the plaza has the following words etched into its face:
Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep
Its own appointed limits keep;
Oh, hear us when we cry to thee,
For those in peril on the sea!
Those words are the first verse to the Navy Hymn (yes, Marines, we do have our own hymn; we just apparently prefer to have our official song be a drinking song). The hymn is not an official song of the US Navy, but it is sung at Annapolis and on Royal Navy ships. It was also sung at FDR's funeral and played by the Navy Band as John F. Kennedy's body was carried up the steps of the Capitol to lie in state in 1963. The rest of the verses, which are not at the memorial, continue the same theme:
O Christ! Whose voice the waters heard
And hushed their raging at Thy word,
Who walked'st on the foaming deep,
And calm amidst its rage didst sleep;
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea!
Most Holy Spirit, Who didst brood
Upon the chaos dark and rude,
And bid its angry tumult cease,
And give, for wild confusion, peace;
Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the sea!
O Trinity of love and power!
Our brethren shield in danger's hour;
From rock and tempest, fire and foe,
Protect them wheresoe'er they go;
Thus evermore shall rise to Thee
Glad hymns of praise from land and sea!
(Public Domain)
Standing there on the Granite Sea and reading those words, seeing the etchings and bronze figures depicting important elements of the Navy's history, brought home the importance of one sentence of the Sailor's Creed: "I represent the fighting spirit of the Navy and those who have gone before me to defend freedom and democracy around the world."
The next stop was the National Archives, where I got to see in person the Constitution, the Declaration of Independence, and the Bill of Rights. Though they are faded and worn and under glass, the knowledge that less than a foot from me sat paper which was held and talked about and written on by great men over 220 years ago (and almost 240 for the declaration) was overwhelming. When I commission in the US Navy to serve in the JAG Corps, I will swear an oath not to a flag, a president, a political party, or even to a country. My oath will be to support and defend that four-page document (albeit four very large, handwritten pages). The sense of duty and the feeling of privilege for the opportunity to serve increased.
After a slight detour to the Museum of Natural History, we visited the World War II memorial. This was one of the moments that I had been looking forward to. At the very front of the memorial are two flagpoles, at the base of which are the seals of the various services at the time of World War II. The US Navy seal was right next to another seal that holds great significance to me: the badge of the United States Army Air Forces, in which my grandfather served as a quartermaster and my namesake served as a pilot during World War II. The memorial's pool was drained because it is winter, but the quotations etched in stone bore witness to the sacrifice, the courage, and the faithfulness of the men and women who served. The line from the Sailor's Creed returned. When I become a Naval Officer, I will not only represent the men and women with whom I serve, but also every man and woman who has served before me, not only in the Navy, but in the other services as well. When I don that uniform, I will be representing my namesake, my grandfather, my grandmother's brother and nephew, my uncle, and my cousins who have served.
At the back of the memorial is a blue field covered in gold stars. Etched into the stone in front of it are the words, "Here we mark the price of freedom." There are 4,048 stars, each representing 100 Americans who died in the war. It stands as a reminder that the cost of freedom is high, but it also stands as a reminder that this people of the United States considers freedom to be worth the cost.
From the World War II Memorial, we went to the Korean War Memorial, where 19 soldiers and their 19 reflections in a granite wall symbolize the 38th parallel, that arbitrary line whose violation began the conflict. As we walked along the granite wall that creates these reflections, I noticed that my own reflection stood in their midst. At the pinnacle of the triangular memorial stands a reminder, "Freedom is not free." The memorial honors not only the United States soldiers who served in Korea, but the 22 nations that sent troops or medical support through the United Nations, including nations such as Australia, New Zealand, the United Kingdom, Luxembourg, Norway, Sweden, Greece, and Turkey. Unfortunately, the etchings on the United Nations wall are fading slowly as the years wear down the granite. This memorial, which honors "sons and daughters who answered the call to defend a country they never knew and a people they never met," seems somewhat forgotten like the war itself. I think that forgetting this war is one of our greatest failings.
Sunday morning, I went to the Pentagon Memorial. I had read about and seen pictures of the memorial, but nothing can match walking across that gravel yourself. At the entrance to the memorial is a flagpole and a reminder of why this memorial is in place along with the promise, "We will never forget."
Just past this statement is a line marking September 11, 2001, 9:37 AM. As you cross the line you find 184 benches laid out in lines. The first bench isn't far away: 1998, 3 year old Dana Falkenberg, passenger on flight 77. Shortly beyond that bench is the next one: 1992, 9 year old Zoe Falkenberg, Dana's older sister. There were three people my age on that flight.
(The line for 1990)
This man served in Korea and Vietnam and was flying out to China Lake, California to work on a Navy missile program. But what struck me most was that Captain Yamnicky was born in 1930. The significance dawned on me there in the memorial. On December 7, 1941, Yamnicky was 11 years old, the same age I was on September 11, 2001. I wondered how painful it must have been over 60 years to watch the culture forget Pearl Harbor. Then I realized that, if the Lord wills that I live to the age of 71, I will face the same challenge with regard to 9/11. Those words at the front of the memorial say "We will never forget," but they are a lie if they are meant to convey a message from the United States as a whole. The men and women who serve in the building next door will never forget, but the Nation as a whole has already begun to make great strides towards forgetting.
After the Pentagon, we visited Arlington National Cemetery, specifically the Tomb of the Unknown Soldiers. If all the monuments in the DC area were scheduled to be destroyed and I could save only one, it would be Arlington. Walking through the cemetery, one is struck by the fact that each of these men took an oath similar to the one I will take when I commission, and some of them died in war because of that oath. It reminded me of an observation I made at the Pentagon Memorial, that while the servicemembers who died on 9/11 had taken an oath that they knew might result in their death, so many of those who died (both on the plane and in the Pentagon) were civilians.
At the Tomb of the Unknowns, we watched the changing of the guard. The level of devotion that these soldiers demonstrate to the memory of the fallen and the history of our nation's armed services is incredible. While the nation attempts to forget, these soldiers refuse to allow it. They honor the fallen and ensure that no one who visits Arlington can forget. May we all be so devoted to these brave men and women who have served our nation.
I was so glad that I was able to visit DC this weekend, as it was in many ways a preparation for my commissioning. As soon as my clearances go through, I will swear an oath to support and defend the Constitution of the United States and to bear true faith and allegiance to the same. I was always honored by the prospect of being an Officer, but having visited all these memorials, I truly feel the weight of privilege that I have been given to serve. I feel the weight of the duty that I have to carry on the torch, which as one of the quotations at John F. Kennedy's gravesite reminds us, has been passed to a new generation of Americans. May each of us carry it with honor and devotion to the memory of those who have carried it before.
