Twenty-one steps, executed in precise cadence before the glimmering marble monument by a ramrod-straight young soldier, his face immobile, rifle rigid at his shoulder. A 21-second pause facing forward, a sharp turn to face the monument, another 21-second pause, then 21 more steps back in the direction from which he came.
It is a silent version of a 21-gun salute, the nation`s highest military honor, and it is a constant ritual every minute of the hour, every hour of the day, 365 days a year at the Tomb of the Unknowns.
On this peaceful Virginia hillside, every day is Memorial Day.
In sweltering heat, in thunderstorms and snow squalls, at 3 in the morning and on Christmas Eve, a guard paces in front of the huge tomb, cut from a single block of white marble and adorned with the inscription ”Here Rests In Honored Glory an American Soldier Known But to God.”
Buried under the tomb are the remains of an unknown from World War I, but adjacent crypts on the marble plaza provide mute testimony that this was not, after all, the ”war to end all wars.” Buried therein are three other unknowns, from World War II, the Korean War and Vietnam.
Some 4 million people a year come to Arlington National Cemetery to visit the unknowns, watch the changing of the guard-an impressive, heel-clicking ritual-and pay their respect.
Visiting dignitaries, most recently Queen Elizabeth II, frequently lay wreaths at the site.
The guards, all volunteers, are members of the elite 3rd U.S. Infantry
(the Old Guard).
Most are young, in their late teens or early 20s, but they speak with ringing maturity in describing their reasons for being here.
”I feel it`s a top honor,” said Cpl. William Cutler, 21, of Charleston, S.C., as he rested between guard changes in the sentinels` tiny quarters just behind the monument. ”I don`t want to sound corny, but I take pride in guarding people who made the ultimate sacrifice.”
Pfc. Victor Satterlund, 20, of Salem, Ore., said that when he`s on duty,
”if you`re looking for motivation or something to give you strength, I look over there (at the tomb) and think that guy may have been an infantry soldier and sat in rain ditches in World War I. And I look at him as what I might have been back then. And I would want someone to feel that way toward me.”
International precedents
Inevitably, the guards report seeing moments of great poignancy as they step off their ritual 21 steps. They do not acknowledge the tourists who watch and photograph them, but they miss nothing.
Satterlund recalled one late afternoon walk when a man in his early 20s remained standing near the tomb as his four companions walked away. ”As I was (standing) facing the tomb, I noticed he was crying,” Satterlund said.
”As I walked by, he said, `Thank you and I love you both.` ”
Spec. Greg Hooper, 21, of Preston, Mo., said ”the best thing I ever saw” was a man who appeared to be of Vietnam-veteran age who walked up to the tomb ”and he leaned down and placed three blank dogtags right in front and laid a rose. He had tears running down his face.”
The idea of honoring an anonymous member of the armed forces who represents the sacrifice of countless others is not unique to the U.S. In France, the unknown lies buried beneath the Arc de Triomphe, and in Britain, the unknown, whose remains were brought from Flanders in 1920, is buried in Westminster Abbey amid kings and queens.
America`s unknown of World War I was interred on Armistice Day, Nov. 11, 1921. The previous Memorial Day, an unidentified American serviceman was exhumed from each of four cemeteries in France. Each set of remains was placed in an identical coffin, and on Oct. 24 one set was randomly chosen to be the unknown and was returned to the U.S. by the cruiser Olympia (the other three sets of remains were reinterred).
The U.S. honored the unknown with the Medal of Honor, and the Allied nations awarded him their highest decorations as well. The body lay in honor for two days in the Capitol rotunda on the same bier that had borne the bodies of Presidents Abraham Lincoln, James Garfield and William McKinley, who had died in office from assassins` bullets. Later, it would bear the body of President John Kennedy, another assassination victim, who is buried not far from the unknown in Arlington Cemetery.
President Warren Harding presided over that first burial ceremony, honoring all U.S. military personnel who had died in the service of their country in World War I and who could not be identified.
Finally, Vietnam
For the first 10 years, the site had an uncompleted marker, and the first guards were civilians. They were replaced by military police in 1926 and by the Old Guard in 1948.
In 1931 the present tomb was erected. It was cut from a 56-ton block of marble produced by the Colorado Yule Marble Co. in Marble, Colo. Colorado Yule and two quarries in Carrara, Italy, reportedly are the source of the purest white marble in the world. Along one side of the monument are relief figures representing Peace, Victory and Valor, sculpted by Thomas Hudson Jones.
In 1958 two more unknowns were interred: one from World War II and one from the Korean War. The World War II unknown was selected from remains exhumed from cemeteries in Europe, Africa, Hawaii and the Philippines. The unknown American who fought in Korea was chosen from among four sets of remains buried at Hickham Air Force Base in Honolulu.
On Memorial Day 1958, the two unknowns were interred adjacent to their comrade from World War I.
It was not until 1984 that then-Defense Secretary Caspar Weinberger announced that an unknown from the Vietnam War had been selected. A crypt had been excavated to hold his body nearly a decade earlier, but as forensic advances made it possible to identify bodies more easily, there were fewer bodies that could be labeled unknown. And the National League of Families resisted filling the crypt as long as there was any chance an identity could be established.
The Vietnam unknown, who also lay in state in the Capitol, was interred on Memorial Day 1984 in a crypt placed between the World War II and Korean unknowns.
The men-and they are always men-who guard the bodies are an elite group who must go through rigorous training and academic work to make the grade. There are no women at the tomb because the guard unit is a combat arms unit, from which women are automatically excluded.
Certain requirements for the guards are purely physical: They must be between 5 feet 10 inches and 6 feet 4 inches tall, with proportionate weight and build-although it helps to be on the slender side because their dark-blue wool jackets are cinched in at the waist.
The guards wear nothing to indicate their rank. ”The sentinels don`t know the rank of the unknowns,” said Cutler, ”and you don`t want to (rank)
above or below them. You just want to show respect.”
Other guard requirements are more physically taxing.
”I spend an hour (a day) pressing my uniform, an hour shining my brass and 1 1/2 hours shining my shoes,” Cutler estimated. ”It`s got to be perfect.”
High attrition
Perfection, as a sign of respect, is a prerequisite for tomb duty. At the changing of the guard ceremony (once every half hour in summer, every hour in winter and every two hours at night), the incoming sentinel is inspected by a commander. His uniform, his brass, his rifle are all given a complete going over, and if anything is amiss, he is sent back to quarters to correct it before he can march before the unknowns.
The sentinels` hair is cut about as close to the head as a military shaver can get; Cutler says he has his trimmed three times a week. The men wear hats in summer, a hat with flaps in winter if it is below freezing, but under no circumstances are they allowed to ward off bad weather with such devices as umbrellas.
If a life-threatening condition such as a hurricane arises, the sentinels are allowed to take shelter in a tiny guardhouse only yards from the tomb and to guard the monument from there. But the tomb is never left unattended.
The attrition rate for would-be guards is extraordinarily high. Of the 36 new recruits who arrived in January, only two remain.
”There`s a very high stress level trying to maintain standards,” he said. Among other things, would-be sentinels must take a 100-question exam after six months on the history of Arlington Cemetery. If you miss more than three, you fail.
”Your social life is out the window,” said Cutler, who plans to leave shortly after nine months on the job to attend the University of South Carolina. ”You do sacrifice, but you hold (the job) so dearly you don`t mind.”
”It`s got to be in your heart, otherwise you can`t do it,” said Satterlund, who hopes to spend another year as a tomb guard. Although he`s only 20, he says, ”I can already feel it taking a toll on my knees,” a reference to the stylized, gliding march the sentinels execute. He describes it as a ”roll on the heels with a stiff upper body . . . it takes about a month to learn.”
Hooper, whose first Army duty was as an airborne ranger, has been at the tomb 18 months and will be leaving shortly to go into business. He describes the job as ”the highest of the highest, the elite of the elite.”
Disrespect wounds
But even the somberness of what goes on there doesn`t prevent funny things from happening. Small children, Hooper said, sometimes tug at his coat and ask if he`s a real soldier. Teenage girls ask him out. One girl even came into the guardhouse during a wreath-laying ceremony and asked to use the phone.
Indifference especially bothers him. Visitors are asked to be silent during the changing of the guard ceremony, but, Hooper said, even though ”we make a point of telling people to be quiet and stand out of respect, you see so many people laying back on the stairs (of the adjacent amphitheater) like they don`t care.
”If I can be out there in the heat in 100 percent wool, I figure the least they could do is put their hand over their heart.”
