The Union daily times. [volume] (Union, S.C.) 1918-current, 1921-11-11

record is written for all toSknow and
honor. 49,
But for the nameless one; asleep on
the terrace above, there ara no rela-
tives. He lies alone in ttes mystery
Of death. Laden with hoHers beyond
any of his fellows below, there is
none to tell Of the way of bis life ard
his death, Of whence he dame or of
what he was, save that he died in
France, at the nation,sA call. The
American. people are his next. Of kin.
He alone may sleep there &jthin the
great monument to all the nations
honored dead. f@
Everywhere about :thes anphithc-
ater are monuments cut With names
that touch memory to lifes tSat bring
echoes of the thunder of GYMS from
old, far off battle scenes. 4yEhere lies
Sheridan; there Porter and lCrook and
Doubleday and yonder hes Dewey.
Over the peaceful slope, now. on row,
march the headstones OF Hundreds
Of humble servers ins.the ranks like
the sleeper up there on aie terrace,
or again, dimly seen through the trees
goes another long column; Sof soldier
headst6ness graying with time. But
sac -Ansi anae1a. sesnaralS ta dnirals,
privates or The last bluejatkeF to join
the ship before the battle, they are all
sleeping here in honored graves. Gath
cred they are from Mexico, from all
the far plains where emigrant trains
fought their way westward, from
storied fields of the Civil war, from
Cuba and the Philippines, from Haiti
and from France.
Just beyond the amphitheater rises
the slender mast Of the old Maine,
brought from Havana to mark the
resting place Of her dead soldiers and
sailors and marines. 1t is their last
muster and for them all has been
raised the great marble pile wherein
the unknown sleeper from France
keeps his vigil.
The pure white outline Of the struc-
ture, as yet unstained by time and the
shifting winds that sweep unchecked
through its stately colonnade or its
vast. roofless gathering place, rises
amid setting that nature paints with
new beauty as the seasons come and
go. 1t stands atop the ridge, footed
aIncnG the e'ergrCens and the native
Virginia woods that set it off in
changing shades in summer; deck it
out with the myriad tints Of autumn
as the. year wanes and wrap it about
with the delicate tracery OF snow Ia
den, lcafiess branches in winter.
To form the colonnade, a double row
of the great marble pillars march
around the circle where in the marble
benches are set. Facing the benches
and with its back to the terrace where
stands the tomb. is the sculptured hol-
low of the space where the solemn
rites for burial take place. The struc-
ture has the lines Of an isncient Greek
temple. fitting resting place for the
honored, unknown soldier who is its
only occupant.
Over the ridge beyond the amphi-
theater are seen the grass grown ram.
parts of old Fort Meyer with the dead
clustering about them. Farther along
the pillared portico of the old Lee
| mansion thrusts out through the
crowding woods to look down over
the vista Of hill and river to Wash.
| ington. And just over the road stands
the army post OF Fort Meyer, it's gar
rison flag hutterinsSglimpse of color
over the quiet scene, the roar of its
sunrise and sunset guns waking the
echoes among the graves of the dead;
the faint, far call of its bugles sing
ing also for these sleeping warriors
resting in their last encampment.