For a Shipmate

I've been thinking a lot recently about Musician Second Class Gerald Cox.

Jerry was a guitarist who lived in East Moline, Illinois, only a few cornfields away from my current home. He enlisted in the Navy as a musician, and, after boot camp and music school, reported to his band in Hawaii. I never heard him play, but he must have been good; his band had a reputation as the best military band in the Pacific.

Jerry's time in the Navy was short. He and his entire band died at their battle stations on USS Arizona as horror rained from the skies over Pearl Harbor on that date that still lives in infamy.

MU2/c Gerald Clinton Cox died at the age of 19, 33 years before I enlisted as a musician. Yet, he is my shipmate. He and I--and all who have served in the U.S. Navy as musicians--share a bond of service and sacrifice that is unbreakable, permanent and, to those who have never served in uniform, incomprehensible.

Memorial Day is set aside so we may remember those who gave their all. In our eyes, they are giants, but, in their times, many were kids. Arizona's Band 22 was made up of Midwestern farm boys and New York city slickers. The average age of the bandsmen was 21. They called each other "Brick," "Swede,""Mad Russian," "Flatfoot Floogie."

Yes, they were young, but the boys in the band were men at their battle stations in Arizona's ammunition hold.

Sleep peacefully, Jerry. You too, Swede, Brick, Flatfoot.

We remember you.
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Honors for a 61-year-old MU

Every year, on a Friday afternoon in May, a year since it happened last, it catches me by surprise.

It happened again today. I was sitting at the computer, windows open to let in the breeze of a warm spring day, when I heard a drum cadence. When the roll-off began, I'd reached the front door.

And by the time I reached the front yard, a 50-piece marching band was formed up in the street in front of my house, playing "Anchors Away."

Just as it does every year, the local high school marching band was practicing for the Memorial Day ceremony. Since I live behind the school, I am the audience, reviewing stand and guest of honor. And every year, the band's first piece is "Anchors."

Maybe it's random. Or, maybe it's because the band director knows I'm a former Navy musician.

But, every year, the sudden concert surprises me.

It also surprises me how I snap to attention without thinking.