The Ward County independent. [volume] (Minot, Ward County, N.D.) 1902-1965, 1913-06-05
.N|N0T DOES HONOR
TO THE SOLDIER DEAD

~ I'LL ~
PROCESSION MARCHES TO THE
CEMETERY-ADDRESS AT THE
CEMETERY BY ATTY. MARK M.
CHATFIELD-PRES DAVIS DE-
LINERS ADDRESS In AFTER
NOON.
Minot did honor to the men who
fought that the nation might live, on
Memorial Day, Friday. A lengthy
procession formed at the opera house
at 1890 o'clock, and led by COL Alex.
Scarlet, mounted on beautiful
horse, proceeded to the cemetery
where an interesting program was
rendered. Col. Scar1ett's aides were
former Sergeant Graham, Major A. S.
The Metropolitan band played a
number Of appropriate airs and mem
bers Of Co. D, appearing natty in
Next in line were hundreds of Minot's
pretty school children, carrying flags
and flowers. Members of the w. r.
C., and the few old soldiers who are
left, were carried in automobiles, with
scores of citizens in the rear.
At the cemetery, Co. D opened
ranks, to allow the veterans and men,
bers of the w. R. c. to pass thru,
when salute was fired over the
grave of r. w. Davidson, first COM
mander of the Minot G. A. R. Rev.
Mr.. Baker then delivered short
prayer.
Atty. Mark M. Chatfeld, himself
son of an old soldier, who has gone
to his reward, delivered the following
touching tribute:
Fifty years ago today this Nation
was engaged in a great Civil War,
testing whether or not Nation, con-
ceived in liberty and dedicated to the
proposition that all men are created
equal, could long endure. That war
finally decided that nation so con-
ceived and so dedicated was and is a
permanent, stable institution. The
cost was great in human lives. The
greater part of million men went off
to war and did not return. Many
thousands of men lie in unnamed
graves. OF those who did return to
home and loved ones, but few remain
with us today. They also have gone
on to their reward. And now we have
met in one of the thousands of ceme-
teries of this fair land where lie the
remains Of the brave men who fought
in that great war. We have met here
for our own good. 1t is our purpose
to show our profound respect for those
brave men, and our appreciation for
what they did for us, their children.
Nothing we can do or say at this Me-
mortal service can add to or detract
from the splendor of their achieve
ment, but what we do or say may
help US to become better men and wo-
men, and may help our children to be-
come better men and women-and
thus may all of us be better citizens.
1t is fitting and proper that we
should keep one day each year sacred
to the memory of those who gave their
lives for their Countrywide died that
the nation might live. We should on
this occasion pledge our lives, our for
tunes and our sacred honor to the de-
Tense of human liberty and human
happiness the principle for which
they fought. We should here highly
resolve that they shall not have
fought in vain; that from this day on
we shall devote our efforts to pre-
serve to the uttermost the principle
for which they fought.
We have no opportunity to fight as
they fought in a bloody war for that
principle. God grant that we may
never have that opportunity. We may
not be heroes on the field Of battle,
but we can in other ways be just as
patriotic. The man or woman who
does his duty as God gives him light
to see his duty is as much patriot,
though his name be never heard
abroad in the land, as the bravest sol
der who ever shouldered mu:ket.
The world does not know its hero.s.
The bravest of them all, perhaps,
was the private in the ranks, whose
name does not appear except upon the
muster rolls, but who did the best he
knew.
Grant is asleep in his great white
tomb, where the Hudson tides are
deep; And Sheridan and Sherman lie
on marble beds asleep; And all the
men that led our men on the bloody
fields we won They sleep meath the
marble meet for them that heroes
work have done; But what of the men
the heroes led-of Smith and Robin
son?
ut was good to die on the firing
line, when you died to set men free;
It was good to die when the cannon
screamed in the days Of Sixty three;
And we, Of q younger, softer race
we look with brief regret, At the mod
est mound where the unknown dead
are modest and. silent yet: Smith and
Robinson lie so still-and we forget
forget.
"And other Smiths and Robinsons
you count them on your hand To-
day 20 hobbling up the street, behind
the village band, To where encamped
their comrades dead in sunken biv-
ouac lie; Fresh lilies in their withered
hands, the old. old men go blythe
Robinsons and the Smiths, you know,
that hadn't the luck to die.
ooh, can't you see and won't you
see, and won't you hold it true, That
these old men had ties as dear to them
as yours to you? And won't you quit
your secret sneer and open, empty
praise The inward smile at the self
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