The Beat of the Drum
"Silence is a fence around wisdom." ~German Proverb
Formals have been a long standing Army tradition. Soldier's wear their dress uniforms, spouses wear their fancy clothes and everyone sits down to a formal meal. It is a time to get a babysitter, have your hair done, and don your finest things, sort of an adult prom. That is what I first thought.
The formal that taught me differently was one in Korea. I had been working for weeks to prepare for the event. I chose my dress, I put out the shoes, I reserved the babysitter, and I planned my hairdo. I wanted to look perfect. The night of the event, I was almost complete, short of the dress and needed Vic's help with the zipper. As I slipped into my formal gown and Vic started to zip, the nightmare started, the zipper got stuck. Fifteen minutes of struggle and a discourse of words from both of us, the zipper gave up. I was frazzled. I had planned this night to the smallest detail and it was starting to unravel. Many Army wives have an arsenal of formal dresses collected from many duty stations. I am one of them. I reluctantly reached in and grabbed another formal dress, not the one I wanted to wear, but one I'd be satisfied with. Fifteen minutes later, that one was kaput as well. The Army Wife Handbook had failed to tell me that the compounds and stitching as well as material on some formal dresses may weather with time. These zippers weren't tight, they were doing what a ziploc zipper does and opening on different ends. At my wits end, and in a tizzy that probably made Vic wondered why he ever married me, I grabbed a dress I had never worn. In the corner of the closet was a formal dress I had bought for $5 at a garage sale. It was black velvet. To Vic's thrill, this dress zipped up just fine, I had black shoes that worked and we were out the door. I was having a horrible start to an event I had so looked forward to.
At many formals, you enter, you check your coat and you immediately line up for pictures. This night we immediately lined up for drinks. We were running behind so we missed the part of the evening where you mingle with your friends before being seated for dinner. This was fine with me because I didn't feel like talking to anyone. We entered the large banquet room and found our table. The room was full of sound, all of the voices of people finding their places. When it appeared that most had found their seats, the talking began to subside and the doors at the back of the room closed. Standing behind our seats, we waited for the formal portion of the evening to begin. From the back a booming voice yelled "Post the Colors". This tradition is one where the appropriate flags are carried in by a color guard, stepping in unison. The flags are placed at the front of the room for the duration of the formal portion. The American flag, the Korean flag, the Army flag and a General's flag were all being carried that night. As we all stood silent, a lone drummer began to drum as the color guard advanced. While the color guard advances, it is tradition for the service member to face the American flag. As the flag moved to the front of the room, Vic and all of the Soldiers made small turns to continually face it. It was precisely this moment, with the beating of the drum and the synchronized movement of the Soldiers in the room that I had an epiphany. It didn't matter what I was wearing.
As the Soldiers faced the flag, as the drum beat loud and crisp in the expanse of room we were in, as I looked around at the faces of those around me, I realized it wasn't about me. It wasn't about any one of us, it was about all of us. This is the true strength of the Army, the collective energy, determination, dedication and courage of all who are involved with it. A formal is an opportunity to celebrate that involvement. It is a time to connect with the tradition, heritage and spirit of the organization. It is a time to pause and reflect on all those who have worn the same colors, walked the same hallowed paths and faced the flag. When all of the chaos of my self centered day reached a crescendo, it took the simple beat of one lone drum at the formal to refocus my attention. When I did this, the things that came into focus were evident ~ the Army Family(Soldiers, families and civilians), it's traditions and the flag.
Formals have been a long standing Army tradition. Soldier's wear their dress uniforms, spouses wear their fancy clothes and everyone sits down to a formal meal. It is a time to get a babysitter, have your hair done, and don your finest things, sort of an adult prom. That is what I first thought.
The formal that taught me differently was one in Korea. I had been working for weeks to prepare for the event. I chose my dress, I put out the shoes, I reserved the babysitter, and I planned my hairdo. I wanted to look perfect. The night of the event, I was almost complete, short of the dress and needed Vic's help with the zipper. As I slipped into my formal gown and Vic started to zip, the nightmare started, the zipper got stuck. Fifteen minutes of struggle and a discourse of words from both of us, the zipper gave up. I was frazzled. I had planned this night to the smallest detail and it was starting to unravel. Many Army wives have an arsenal of formal dresses collected from many duty stations. I am one of them. I reluctantly reached in and grabbed another formal dress, not the one I wanted to wear, but one I'd be satisfied with. Fifteen minutes later, that one was kaput as well. The Army Wife Handbook had failed to tell me that the compounds and stitching as well as material on some formal dresses may weather with time. These zippers weren't tight, they were doing what a ziploc zipper does and opening on different ends. At my wits end, and in a tizzy that probably made Vic wondered why he ever married me, I grabbed a dress I had never worn. In the corner of the closet was a formal dress I had bought for $5 at a garage sale. It was black velvet. To Vic's thrill, this dress zipped up just fine, I had black shoes that worked and we were out the door. I was having a horrible start to an event I had so looked forward to.
At many formals, you enter, you check your coat and you immediately line up for pictures. This night we immediately lined up for drinks. We were running behind so we missed the part of the evening where you mingle with your friends before being seated for dinner. This was fine with me because I didn't feel like talking to anyone. We entered the large banquet room and found our table. The room was full of sound, all of the voices of people finding their places. When it appeared that most had found their seats, the talking began to subside and the doors at the back of the room closed. Standing behind our seats, we waited for the formal portion of the evening to begin. From the back a booming voice yelled "Post the Colors". This tradition is one where the appropriate flags are carried in by a color guard, stepping in unison. The flags are placed at the front of the room for the duration of the formal portion. The American flag, the Korean flag, the Army flag and a General's flag were all being carried that night. As we all stood silent, a lone drummer began to drum as the color guard advanced. While the color guard advances, it is tradition for the service member to face the American flag. As the flag moved to the front of the room, Vic and all of the Soldiers made small turns to continually face it. It was precisely this moment, with the beating of the drum and the synchronized movement of the Soldiers in the room that I had an epiphany. It didn't matter what I was wearing.
As the Soldiers faced the flag, as the drum beat loud and crisp in the expanse of room we were in, as I looked around at the faces of those around me, I realized it wasn't about me. It wasn't about any one of us, it was about all of us. This is the true strength of the Army, the collective energy, determination, dedication and courage of all who are involved with it. A formal is an opportunity to celebrate that involvement. It is a time to connect with the tradition, heritage and spirit of the organization. It is a time to pause and reflect on all those who have worn the same colors, walked the same hallowed paths and faced the flag. When all of the chaos of my self centered day reached a crescendo, it took the simple beat of one lone drum at the formal to refocus my attention. When I did this, the things that came into focus were evident ~ the Army Family(Soldiers, families and civilians), it's traditions and the flag.
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