Flag Line

Flag Line

Gill Rapoza

June 16, 2012

Yesterday I had a unique pleasure of participating in a Flag Line at the Imperial California Airport for a fallen soldier, US Army Captain Scott Pace.  Pace lost his life in Afghanistan when his helicopter crashed. 

The thing that made this unique was that those that were on that flag line were all strangers to Capt. Pace, and mostly to one another.  About 25 motorcycles in all arrived in singles and in small groups.  Some had the Patriot Guard Riders < http://patriotguard.org/>stickers on the windshield, and most had large or at least small American flags on them and I saw one with a US Army flag. 

No one among those that showed up were asked if they were in any particular service.  It was not a problem that those who came to stand with them did not have a motorcycle.  I no longer have one but brought my old pick-up truck.  There was a man there called “Gunny”, a long time retired US Marine gunnery sergeant and our ride captain for this event.  Gunny organized us with the idea that we were there to both honor and respect our fallen soldier, Capt. Pace.  During the briefing Gunny asked if there were any Viet Nam vets among us.  Gunny acknowledged them and said some important words they did not all get to hear the first time, “Welcome home.” 

We were allowed onto the tarmac to await the jet and received our final instructions there.  We said the Pledge of Allegiance toward one of the flags, then a friend of mine who is the chaplain for his motorcycle club prayed for us and for the event.  It was just then something happened that I have never seen before took place.  A civilian charter jet made a low pass pretty quickly over the runway.  It turned, made a loop, landed and stopped not far from us. 

We made our flag line ready and waited.  When the coffin was lower from the plane Gunny called us to attention, and barked “Present Arms.”  Those holding flags presented them and those without did a hand salute.  I know we were a rag-tag looking bunch, most of us in our 50s-60s or so.  But we were presenting the best honor we had, and we did it well.  It came from the heart.  We were very pleased to see that Army provided an honor guard, and they did a good job all around. 

Once the Army’s honor guard placed the casket into the funeral car, everyone lined up their motorcycles for a final escort.  A couple of pick-ups and a car took up the rear.  We made a slow ride from the airport to the funeral home in Brawley, Ca.  At every intersection there was at least one police car or motorcycle provided by the Patriot Guard.  At some intersections I saw flags, big ones too.  I saw several people with their hands over their hearts as we passed by.  I saw cars and a couple of trucks from the local utility company that had been going the other way on the highway who had stopped what they were doing.  Some of these took their hats off and I saw some with hands over their hearts as well. At one intersection I saw an older man by the side of the road who stood there in a full attention salute.  As we passed intersections I saw California Highway Patrol and local police in full hand salute. 

We pealed off in Brawley, at the funeral home and Gunny organized another flag line there. 

I had not originally intended on going all the way to Brawley, but I did.  The idea of honoring one of our fallen all the way to the end made an impact on me.  If I did not see it through I would have missed much.  I saw what real honor looks like! 

Godspeed,

Gill Rapoza

Veritas Vos Liberabit

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