It’s all in the cadence. The soldiers practice their steps with a metronome, set to 72 beats per minute, the tempo of a slow march. A regal adagio time signature. Being chosen as a tomb guard is a rare honor, and even after training for five to seven months, they practice daily. The soldiers assigned to the duty serve 18-24 months. (There have been three female guards in the past, though there are none now.) After the cemetery closes, groups of them will walk the steps over and over. With perfection as the standard — this is written into the “sentinel’s creed” they learn during training — if they stop a half-inch off their mark and their supervisor sees it, they’ll hear about it.
When the new guard is in place, he is still mindful of his cadence. It governs every step — 21 at a time, the number chosen to echo the honor of a 21-gun salute. Then he turns and faces the tomb for 21 seconds. He swivels to face back down the mat, shifts his weapon to the outside shoulder, waits another 21 seconds, takes another 21 steps. This clean geometry and steady rhythm are traced over and over until he is relieved by another guard change.
“People always ask what we’re thinking,” says [Benton Thames, 24, assistant sergeant of the guard]. “But we’re not really thinking about anything. We’re counting.”
Sunday, May 29, 2011
THE WORLD DOESN'T MATTER HERE, IN THIS OUTDOOR THEATER WHERE THE SHOW ALWAYS GOES ON: The Washington Post's Pulitzer Prize-winning dance critic, Sarah Kaufmann, visits with the guards at Arlington National Cemetery's Tomb of the Unknowns to understand their work:
When I was in law school, I lived in an apartment building right across from Fort Myer, where the guards live and prepare, and I would often go over to the cemetery if I needed some quiet time. I know it sounds strange, but there was something very comforting and calming about sitting at the Tomb of the Unknowns and watching the beautiful, predictable march of the guards. In honor of my late father, who was a VietNam veteran and proud Army member, I thank these devoted young people.
ReplyDeleteThis is a great idea for an article.
ReplyDeleteAnd really, really well executed.
ReplyDeleteThank you for posting that. The bit about the vets in wheelchairs trying to stand as he passed.... wow.
ReplyDeleteAsk why the guards respond to clumsy onlookers, even impulsive children, so forcefully — with a bellowed “request” for silence and respect, an aggressive posture and a jut-jawed stare to pierce stone — and you get a one-word answer. Intimidation.
ReplyDeleteMy family visited the Tomb when I was in high school, and we witnessed one of these "requests" first-hand. A couple of charming tykes were cavorting around the steps, and after the third time they ducked under the rope (without so much as a word from their oblivious parents), the guard finished his walk, executed his turn, and made his request.
Sometimes, when in the presence of unruly children allowed to run riot under the nose of a disinterested parent, I remember the aftermath of the guard's request. It involved loud crying, and quiet applause. It's enough to make one wish for an M-14 of one's own sometimes.