Stand To - A Remembrance

Photo by: Sgt.1st Class Jasmine L. Flowers

                It’s 4:30 AM. There are no windows in the intermediate maintenance communications electronics repair shelter in which I have been working and sleeping since being deployed. Mounted on the back of a two-and-a-half-ton truck parked beneath the forest canopy, and further covered in tactical camouflage, it is part of the army maintenance unit to which I am currently assigned, that took cover here shortly before dark three days ago.

                In the pitch-black darkness, I begin to don my battle dress uniform (BDU) draped over the chair by my cot. It is known as a fire display. I set it up each night before bedding down - every piece of my uniform precisely placed as I had pounded into my brain during basic military training might one day save my life. Should the unit come under attack, I would have to get into full battle dress in record time – like, mas pronto! Pants on! Blouse on! Boots on! Web gear on! Helmet on! Weapon in hand ready to engage! Move it, soldier! Move it! Move it!

                Well, it looks like I made it without incident through another night to my 4:30 AM wake up call. Today, and each day, all soldiers must be in their assigned fighting positions by 5 AM. At this very moment, every soldier not already on duty on the defensive perimeter, is awake and donning their gear as well, or sure as hell better be. I dress with calm, steadfast deliberation. There is still some time.

                Throughout the encampment, soldiers begin their stealth-like migration toward the perimeter: no lights, not so much as a lit match or cigarette; no talking, not so much as a whisper; just navigating slowly and cautiously through the dark with the silent discipline of a church mouse. Each predawn procession is part of military history. It is what soldiers preparing for battle have done since the time of the Roman Empire. This morning, and every morning, this activity binds each of us historically to all soldiers now living and those long deceased.

               Brothers at arms over the centuries would move together in the quiet darkness to assume defensive positions before battle, well knowing by day's end, some will have perished. It was a time for personal preparation: mental and spiritual. A time for silent personal  prayer. This traditional military predawn ceremony has come to be known as “stand to.”  

                Having long since retired from military service, I still find myself waking up at “zero dark hundred” hours. This morning, on Memorial Day weekend, was no exception. I quietly dressed in the dark, put on clothes I had set out on a chair beside the bed the night before. The difference now being: my battle dress uniform is now a pair of khaki shorts, a buttoned down short sleeved shirt, and a beat up old pair of loafers; no helmet, just a ball cap; no weapon to take up, just my trusty YETI coffee mug. The Stand to tradition is an intrinsic part of my being. After all these years, I still find myself standing to! I am grateful during this weekend of remembrance to still be here to remember. So many brave, proud warriors have passed on.

               To all those who have served, are now serving, and will one day serve,

I salute you!