Before the Dew Evaporates

by Evan Young Weaver

Like anywhere, it’s best to get there early. You don’t have to beat the crowds—unless it’s Memorial Day, I guess—but you do want to beat the morning sun. Every single battlefield is the same at 6 AM. I actually meant to write “cemetery,” and I guess a battlefield cemetery is some chef’s kiss of imagery, and maybe that matters to someone. The national cemetery and the battlefield cemetery are the same at 6 AM. The grass is kept, and the white marble is clean. But it’s the sun over the dew and the burn-off that I care about. Be there before the dew evaporates—show some commitment by getting your shoes wet.

If you know the headstone among the 100,000 others, by section and row—know it chapter and verse—you can walk right to it. If you know it. If you know why. If you found it once. If, then, you can walk right to it.

If you don’t—because you were still there when the burial happened, or you don’t because you lacked courage for a while, or you don’t because of travel and time and all—then you don’t. Then you either go with a friend, which is a very natural conversation like any other weekend plans (it is not), or you go alone. I recommend alone the first time, but do have your dog in the truck.

If you don’t know the headstone among the 100,000 or more others, by section and row, you have to find it. A basic map shows the layout—sections and rows—with the only complicating factor being the sheer size and scale of a national cemetery.

The drive to a cemetery is an entire separate topic for another time, but once you arrive—overthink the parking—it’s time for my personal favorite part: the Gravesite Locator.

During the week and at the right hours, there is an employee who can look up the name, and you get a handwritten, filled-out card with the section, row, and such directions. I still think you should experience the Gravesite Locator.

Tucked away like an ATM, shielded from the weather, and about the same size—with much the same function—is the little digital kiosk of dark knowledge. Searching by name can be challenging, and often you have to enter the same input multiple times for different results, with the ultimate goal of receiving a receipt-like map.

You should know—but you might find out—that you never knew someone was a “Junior” or had a fun middle name. Now you will.

As you enter this person’s name in multiple ways—first and last, first and middle and last, middle initial, full middle, just by last name, hell, just first name—you will go some places. You may stand staring at this screen for a very long time, entering nothing. You may spell the name wrong. You may read all the other names that come up in the results. You may get frustrated that it’s taking you ten minutes to find the section and row, because you know for a fact this person is there. And you know why. And how. And when. And where.

Evan Young Weaver is a New Hampshire native and Army Veteran. The dog is Scout, and she’s a Texas Heeler. Evan is beginning his MFA at USM-Stonecoast this Spring. He is proud to be part of the veteran writing community.

As the Voice of the Veteran Community, The Havok Journal seeks to publish a variety of perspectives on a number of sensitive subjects. Unless specifically noted otherwise, nothing we publish is an official point of view of The Havok Journal or any part of the U.S. government.