Actually, it's written in the Naval Military Funerals Book... NORMALLY, you can't be buried at sea off of one of our Naval Vessels unless you are in this list. Period.
AT SEA DISPOSITION
ART. 2-1. Eligibility. The regulations for the disposition of remains and inurned cremated remains (cremains) from a naval vessel, or inurned cremains
from a naval aircraft are set forth by the Bureau of Medicine and Surgery.
The following persons are eligible for at sea disposition:
1. Members of the uniformed services.
2. Retired members of the uniformed services.
3. Former members of the uniformed services honorably discharged.
4. U.S. Civilian Marine Personnel of the Military Sealift Command.
5. Dependents of members and dependents of former members of the uniformed services.
6. Other U.S. citizens who are determined eligible by notable service or outstanding contributions to the United States.
Since it seems I have to spell it out... he deserved no washing, no prayers in his native language, no 72 virgins, nothing. He got what an honored American would have gotten for a sea burial, all except (I assume) the salute, symbolic firing of rifles and the US flag draped over him until slid overboard. He most likely would have been put on the same board as an honored American (I'm assuming here that they didn't take the time to whittle a new one just for him), feet end hanging off the edge, tipped up and slid into the sea. Usually 3 bearers on each side securing the body while at rest and in motion. He got much better than he deserved and more than most Americans could have, even if they fill out the 3 million forms necessary. In triplicate, single spaced. That, ladies and gentleman, was an honor he didn't deserve. Getting shot quickly in the head, not part by part, lingering in his pain and fear over days and weeks... our troops showed him mercy. He didn't deserve it, not one iota. But he got it. I'm happy he's dead.
I still remember that morning in PA, waking up to the news broadcast showing the planes hitting the towers, the Pentagon and then finding out just 150 miles away in my state, flight 93 crashed. I remember knowing that family members were supposed to be in the towers that morning, up on the top, having a breakfast meeting for business. Their 2 year old daughter, back with my SIL, quietly playing. We wrung our hands all day, trying to get word of whether or not they were still alive, wondering how in the world we were ever going to be able to explain to that beautiful little girl what happened to her parents. Luckily, they ended up delaying the meeting with the airline reps until lunch and had not stepped foot in the towers that day. I remember smelling the slightly ashy, burnt air for days after as it floated down the east coast to our area. It's been imprinted, like a bad tattoo. I know that area flight 93 went down in. I had visited there as a teen and adult. I know that of those few brave men that banded together, stood up and risked it all on that plane, one of them was, in this country, considered a 2nd class citizen because he was gay. None of them got a proper burial, not religious nor clean. I remember praying for all those who were directly affected and sending care packages to my fellow EMT's, Medics and firefighters. Wanting to be able to help more directly but unable to. I believe bin Laden's "tidy" death and burial was an honor he didn't deserve. Plain and simple. For us to do that, to bestow any compassion or kindness upon him after what he did, shows how incredible our country and our benevolent way of life truly is. That doesn't mean I have to always like it.
Meanwhile back on the ranch, people danced in the streets and had a party or two. The dichotomy was deafening.




Reply With Quote