Purple Zoot Suit
Angel Olivares, United States Army
During my time as an active-duty soldier in the Army, I received duties instead of missions as a cargo specialist. Within hours, I would finish my work that was supposed to take an entire weekend to complete, and I would end up bored. Like many people who received duties instead of missions, I became tired of the military because I felt like I was not being productive. I asked if I could join missions; however, those opportunities were few and far between. Eventually, I was given a detail known as Funeral Honors. Usually, only shammers went into Funeral Honors, and I wanted to avoid being considered or even associated with being a shammer. After some time, due to boredom, I gave up worrying about my reputation and relented.
I began to focus more on the goal of Funeral Honors. The most important moment is when the flag is presented to a family member. Usually to a widow. But sometimes to a young son. Or a parent. In any case, usually what happens is that they accept the flag while crying hysterically. Then those attending in the front pew begin to bawl and the grief is like a giant wave overpowering the remainder in attendance. At times, these family members are so distraught that they have trouble taking the flag because accepting it cements the fact that their loved one member has passed, making the ultimate sacrifice for our country. Super emotional to say the least. I began to take Funeral Honors seriously when I would imagine the tables turned and envisioned the flag being passed to my own mom. Therefore, I took pride in the proper execution of this important service for people in desperate need of closure. Even when no one else was practicing for Funeral Honors, our team did. Eventually, we taught an upcoming replacement platoon the Funeral Honors ceremony and how to improvise during the usually hectic funerals.
About six months later, missions remained scarce, and Funeral Honors circled back. As a result of my last experience, I jumped at the opportunity to perform these ceremonies again. This time, however, the NCO’s, including the platoon sergeant, had no experience with Funeral Honors. In the military, there is a rule regarding awkward moments where everyone, regardless of rank, must listen to the person with the most experience in a field. Otherwise, tragic consequences might unfold due to decisions arrogantly being made while ignorant, including major repercussions and loss of rank. More importantly, it’s important not to fail in any aspect of a funeral for the sake of the grieving family and the memory of the fallen veteran. Therefore, other specialists and I decided it was necessary to take charge. Luckily, we did because our next service could have easily gone sideways. Honestly, it turned out kind of funny.
We were at a cemetery in Newport News, a part of Virginia becoming known for its violence more than its views of the Virginia Peninsula. During this funeral, people were grieving as usual, but this crowd had some gang affiliation. The funeral unfolded like usual with us presenting the flag. The goal of our team was to ensure we showed no reaction to anything, no matter what happened, our faces stolid as a measure of strength for those in mourning. As the flag was being presented, I saw behind my Squad leader a man who was clearly an extravagant gentleman. While everyone else in attendance wore dark clothes appropriate for the occasion, he stood out, wearing a purple zoot suit with a feather on his hat. He wore an excessive amount of rings and all these necklaces hanging out his top. The two ladies flanking him were dressed scandalously showing off a lot of leg and other things, but at least they were wearing black.
I knew I wasn't the only one from my team who noticed him. My buddy did this thing when we caught eyes. His neck turned toward the extravagant gentleman then his serious face returned forward. He held his blink a moment longer than was natural, his subtle way of telling me he couldn't believe what he saw.
Once the flag was presented, one of our team members signaled the rifle team. Ordinarily, people tend to jump at the sounds of the rifle, especially when unexpected. What is unordinary is seeing people who have a violent life react to the firing of the rifle team. With that said, imagine my bewilderment and difficulty to not laugh when I saw the extravagant gentleman drop to the grass and run while keeping low to the ground. This was a bizarre movement because he was the only one who reacted as if in fear of becoming a victim of a drive-by shooting. Even the family reacted to him in a surprised manner. It was an absolute fight to block my urge to laugh and to remain steadfast. Unflinching. I didn't dare look in my friend's direction.
After the funeral was over, we marched out of the distance and waited for our NCO to come back. From our vantage, we could see the crowd. The extravagant gentleman in purple had never come back. This event was one of the most memorable moments not only because of the humor that arose from it but out of the sheer randomness that one can encounter in life, especially in the service.
