The Empty Seat at Thanksgiving
November has always been an interesting month to me. Seasonal changes seem to accelerate and nature tends to show a very different side of life.
It is also a month of two events that perhaps should be more related — Veterans Day and Thanksgiving Day. All too few fail to recognize the former, while almost everyone recognizes the latter, in one way or another.
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For Thanksgiving Day, government offices close; businesses large and small close, often for several days; many workers take several days off and are charged for only a few. Food donation programs have been in full swing for months and kitchens are geared up to serve those in need at a pace rarely seen at any other time of the year.
Restaurants have long ago closed their reservation books as families planned a special dinner out.
Families choosing to remain in a more private setting have organized their own special dining gatherings, and the travel industry enjoys a day of relief as the masses of travelers have reached their destinations, only to reverse course in the next few days.
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For Veterans Day, government offices close but very few businesses will close. Some schools will close, but many will not.
Obligatory and somewhat perfunctory speeches by politicians will be made, often sprinkled with political agenda woven into the otherwise appropriate message of remembrance.
By way of remembrance a small number of poorly attended parades and graveside ceremonies will be conducted, but life goes on for most as it does for pretty much any other day. With one exception — without fail, I will receive a call from my son Brian. It happens every Veteran’s Day and I cherish it. More than anyone can know.
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Far too many of this country’s occupants (I hesitate to use the word “citizens” because that implies the acceptance of levels of responsibility far too many have not accepted) seem to have very short memories. Their immediate interests override their ability to remember history, and the players within it. They seem to be be too busy taking care of themselves to think of and remember others.
They fail to recognize the contributions and sacrifices of others that made the current day’s bounty possible, even to the point, and this is most unfortunate, of forgetting those who are making history at that very moment, at the price of great personal sacrifice.
I find the contrast between Veterans Day and Thanksgiving Day disheartening; it saddens me. The former has been relegated to relative obscurity, even in a time of war, and the latter has lost its meaning. Both are a loss for me.
During my military career I attended, indeed hosted, special functions called “Dining-in” or “Dining-out.” Both are functions of “The Mess,” a term used to describe military dining and having nothing to do with an unkempt state of affairs. You may have heard the term used as in “mess hall,” referring to the place where military members take their meals, though in this age of political correctness that term has been overcome by others.Both the Dining-in and the Dining-out were very formal functions, quite possibly the most formal of all for military members, and the Dining-out, a fairly modern adaptation, included spouses and special friends.The conduct of the affair was most formal, planned, and precise, though at the same time allowing for an evening of recognition, socializing, and camaraderie.
Entry into the dining area was to the sound of chimes and Mr.Vice made his announcement to those gathered in the outer area, declaring that dinner was ready. Guests entered and went to their place-carded seats, remaining standing as senior members and honorees entered in formal fashion; the evening’s formal activities then began very much according to plan.
Toasts were offered, introductions and short speeches were made, and a fine meal was consumed, within the environment of formal and proper introductions, posting and retirement of the colors, and very specific and formal rules.
There was a head table, but most guests/attendees were seated at tables accommodating small groups, making the event an enjoyable social affair despite all the pomp and circumstance.
Despite all the formality, it was usually an enjoyable affair.
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But there was always one lone table, fully set for the dinner meal. Its placement was one of honor, near the front and close to the head table, frequently near the center.
It was lighted by a single candle.
No place card directed someone to sit there. The seat remained empty.
For its explanation I refer you to a guide for conducting such affairs. The following is a typical script for the President of The Mess as he addresses the assembled members of the evening:
As you entered this evening you may have noticed a small table in a place of honor near our head table.
It is set for one.
The military caste is filled with symbolism.
This table is our way of symbolizing the fact that members of our profession of arms are missing from our midst. They are commonly called, POW/MIA, we call them brothers.
They are unable to be with us this evening and so we remember them because of their incarceration.
This table set for one is small, symbolizing the frailty of one prisoner alone against his oppressors. Remember!
The tablecloth is white, symbolizing the purity of their intentions to respond to their country’s call to arms. Remember!
The single rose displayed in a vase reminds us of the families and loved ones of our comrades-in-arms who kept the faith awaiting their return. Remember!
The red ribbon tied so prominently on the vase is reminiscent of the red ribbon worn upon the lapel and breasts of thousands who bear witness to their unyielding determination to demand a proper accounting of our missing. Remember!
And a toast was offered.
At Dining-in and Dining-out functions for officers only, a special final toast was traditionally offered (remembering that these were Air Force functions) by the President of The Mess:
One More Roll
We toast our hearty comrades who have fallen from the skies, and were gently caught by God’s own hands to be with him on high.
To dwell among the soaring clouds they’ve known so well before, from victory roll to tail chase at heavens very door.
And as we fly among them there we’re sure to hear their plea, “Take care my friend, watch your six, and do one more roll for me.”
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As it will be for Veterans Day, the POW/MIA flag will be flying here at the nest for Thanksgiving, in hopes that maybe someone passing will remember that there are many who will not be at the table.
But more than just remembering, I hope others will do more than just think a passing thought or offer a brief and passing toast.
There are many veterans who are not at the table but who are living and breathing in the face of danger, wearing helmets and flak vests, eating meals from a rubberized envelope, and cleaning the sandy grit from their teeth. Thankfully, their passing need not be remembered, only their absence.
If you feel it appropriate to actually DO something rather than just think about it, here are two suggestions:
And if you want the name and address of a marine on his second tour in Iraq, just make a comment to this post and I’ll send it to you. I have it on good authority that ”He loves to share with his buds. Several of them come from very poor backgrounds and get little from family (when they have family). That was one of the big reasons he didn’t want to leave like last time.”
May your Veterans Day be one of proper remembrance, and may your Thanksgiving Day be one of proper thanks and joy.