He went to Arlington National Cemetery every year, to honor the fallen and to pay his respects to those who gave their lives in defense of our country. He avoided the crowds and stress of Memorial Day festivities at Arlington, and always joined the Flags In event, several days before Memorial Day. This is the tradition of the 3rd U.S. Infantry Regiment, the Old Guard soldiers, placing flags at the headstones of all soldiers buried at Arlington. The Old man was allowed to help them, well, because of who he is, and he planted as many flags as he could, especially gravesites of the men he served with. No one else was allowed.
He found each of the gravesites of the men he commanded and served with, put down his cane, and slowly got to his knees and prayed for each one, remembering them, and honoring them. After all these years, he never forgot one, even when the numbers continued to increase.
And then, he found the last grave site. It was the one that meant the most to him and the one that always choked him up for a few seconds, when no one was watching. He kneeled down, placed the flag and said his prayer out loud. Then, he recited John 15:12: My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for friends. And I am your friend on earth, while you are in His heavenly presence. By that time, some soldiers from the 3rd Infantry Regiment were assigned to find Ollie because it was getting near closing time. They knew where to find him, just like always, at the last grave site, kneeling.
“Ollie, sir. It’s time to go. We’ll help you up.”
He looked up at them and smiled, allowing them to each give him a hand to pick him up to a standing position, handing him his ever-present cane. “Thanks guys, you’re the best. You serve with honor, my friends, and never forget to pray daily to your maker, that he may guide you and protect you with his love and grace.”
“Yes, Ollie”, they said in unison. We do, daily, and you inspire us, every year.”
They knew better to ask the old man if he wanted them to escort him to the exit of the cemetery. He was independent and preferred making the thirty-minute walk himself, limp and all. He reached the entrance and down the road he saw a group of protestors, wearing Palestinian scarves, Keffiyeh, chanting: Free Palestine, From the River to the Sea and Stop US support for Israeli genocide, etc. He knew he had a ways to walk yet to get to the parking lot where the shadow man always waited, but he slowed down, because he descried something that made him seethe with disgust and anger: They were trying to lower the American flag on the pole and replace it with the tri-color striped Palestinian flag with a red triangle. Ollie would have none of it, looked around and saw no police or military security stopping these people. They were, it seemed in the modern lingo, peaceful protesters.
The crowd was accelerating its chants, and Ollie was walking right to them. There was no way on God’s green earth, he would allow the Palestinian flag to be flown in place of the stars and stripes and especially never at Arlington National Cemetery!
They saw him and immediately jeered him: “Hey old man, you look like Einstein with that wild white hair. Einstein was Jewish, so that means you are a Jewish Zionist supporter of genocide against the Palestinian people!”
He picked out their leader, the loudest and most aggressive one, as the rest of the crowd surrounded the single old man. “Take down that Palestinian flag now! This is America, not Gaza!” He picked up the American flag which was in a heap on the ground and he began to lower the other flag with the lanyards at the bottom. As it was coming down, they approached him with speed to knock the old man down, but he turned around quickly, wrapped the leader on the head with his cane, knocking him unconscious, and he fell to the ground and then several protestors pushed the old man and as he fell, he swung hard and rapped the knees of two protestors with such force that they cried in pain with fractured patellae, most likely, unable to walk for a long time. They spat on him and tore the flag, but Ollie was now being held down, unable to use his cane but he kept fighting the best he could, crushing the suprised faces of anyone getting close. Before he lost consciousness he prayed, “Dear Lord, these people don’t know what they are doing. Please deliver me and my friend.”
The old man was down on the ground now, and the shadow man, across the street ran to the melee, surprised no security arrived yet, and as he ran to Ollie, he radioed on his shoulder satellite phone: “Mayday, 234 is down, send in the operators!”
The Shadow Man was now in the middle of the crowd, having no choice but to violently strike anyone near Ollie, hoping security would arrive to disperse the mess. Because of his call, within three minutes, he heard the rotors of two Black hawk helicopters, hovering above the crowd, blowing all their possessions away with the rotor wake. The Rangers and Special Forces operators fast-roped down from the helicopters, grabbed Ollie and the Shadow man and reeled them up into the hovering choppers, while over the loudspeaker the protestors heard: “You are on U.S. Government property. This is not a liberal university. Disperse immediately, or suffer the consequences”
With that, they ran to their mommies or their universities for protection, screaming and crying in fear. They knew they would not be coddled here, especially after what they did to the old man hero.
On the Blackhawks, medics were working on Ollie. He had lost consciousness but was breathing, gashes on his face and knuckles. He began to float to the light of infinite warmth again, to that special place of wondrous beauty and love that he felt before and never wanted to leave, but this time, he wanted it.
He was then given a message.
©SRCarson Publications, 2024
I am sad to say that I do not recognize my country anymore. Thank you Ollie for reminding us to stand up for freedom and respect the stars and stripes that so many brave men and women fought for, like my father. My dad fought in Korea and was nearly captured behind enemy lines when he and his buddies were ordered to go fix a broken down jeep and drive it back. He would have loved this Ollie Saga and especially this piece. My dad probably would have done the same thing as Ollie. Although there would have been no Blackhawk rescue. Thank you Dr. Carson for honoring my dad and all the others that gave so much.
Thank you for your response, and I honor your father’s service.
Oh. how I felt every line… it’s so exciting.. this topic is close to me that refugees are filling other countries.. but what’s scary is that they allow themselves to violate other people’s traditions and rules.. no matter what country a person comes to, he first of all brings yourself, and it is not permissible to behave this way. And Ollie, he is devoted to his work to the end… until his last breath… I confess in the last lines I thought that Ollie would leave this world… but a dedicated message to him… in truth, this is your gift as a writer to keep the reader in suspense until the end