the BEACON Newspaper, Indiana 20181001_beacon | Page 10

21-Gun Salute or Three Volley Salute
Page 10A THE BEACON October 2018

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ALUTE TO THE MILITARY

21-Gun Salute or Three Volley Salute

By PG Gentrup Many times at a funeral detail for a departed veteran , people talk about the 21-gun salute made by the Color Guard . However , members of the Color Guard only fire three rounds with their rifles . The honorary practice is known as the Firing of the Three Volleys and not a 21- gun salute . I repeat , the firing of the Three Volleys is NOT a 21-gun salute .
The origin of the Three Volley tradition can be traced back to the Roman era when the battlefield was cleared , and a soldier removing a slain officer would call his name three times as a way of honoring his sacrifice . Later in history when traditional battle ceasefires were called , each side would clear the field of the wounded and the dead . The firing of three volleys indicated that the deceased were removed and the wounded had been properly cared for .
A soldier does not refer to the weapon as a GUN . A gun is a reference to a cannon which is not used in the Three Volleys . The weapon used in the Three Volleys is fired from the shoulder and is usually some type of rifle . Our local Color Guards commonly use M-1 Garands .
Pistols have sometimes been used , but not often . Muskets are used when firing for a Civil War ceremony such as a Civil War Veteran receiving a new tombstone or the marking of a grave with a stone .
The number of weapons involved in the firing of the Three Volleys depends on how many are available to fire the weapons . I have seen as little as one and as many as ten . In the volleys , all weapons are fired at the same time .
A 21-gun salute is usually held for the President of the United States or high-ranking officials and dignitaries . In official government ceremonies , it is performed by five to eight soldiers firing the rifles . Most of us will never witness a 21- gun salute in person .
All honorably discharged veterans are entitled to a Color Guard where the Three Volleys are fired , Taps is played , and the burial flag is removed from the casket , folded , and presented to the family or whoever is designated to receive it . At the end of the service , three casings from the Three Volley Salute may be inserted into the back fold of the flag to represent duty , honor , and country .
Families will be asked by the funeral director if they wish for this service to be included in the ceremony . Having the Color Guard at the service is an honor that every veteran has earned .

The Cream Man- A Lost Trade

By Mary-Alice Helms
In the 1940 ’ s , our dad was a Cream Man . No , the term didn ’ t refer to his complexion or the clothes he wore . It was his occupation , one that I doubt that today ’ s generation has heard of , much less seen . It was his job to collect the cans of creamy milk from the dairy farms around the county . At least once during the summer , I got to go with him on his cream route . How I loved that ! The cream truck wasn ’ t very big , but then neither was I . Daddy would lift me up onto the black leather seat , and I felt as if I were on top of the world . The truck had a bright green cab . A handmade wooden cargo box about the size of a small shed sat on the chassis in back of the cab . Dad had made that box himself . It was painted a creamy yellow , and was like fine cabinetry , with small cupboard spaces built into the sides .
Once I was settled in the cab , Dad would store our lunch in one of the cupboards , climb up into the cab and away we would go . I can still smell the wonderful cherry wood fragrance of the pipe tobacco that Dad smoked . He was never without his pipe , and I long to smell that tobacco once again .
As we drove out into the country , I would hear stories about the customers we were going to visit that day . Sometimes the tales were a genealogy lesson , and I would learn about who had married whom , who their kids were and how we were third or fourth cousins . Often there were funny stories about some silly thing that had happened at the home of one of his customers . No matter what the story , it was always entertaining .
Many times as we drove down a lane and into a barn lot , one of the kids who lived there would meet us and then run ahead , yelling , “ Cream man ’ s coming , cream man ’ s coming !” I felt like a princess , being announced by a Herald Trumpeter ! Sometimes I would get lifted down from the truck to play for a while , but we couldn ’ t tarry long . The farmers were counting on us to get the filled cans to the cream station before the contents could spoil .
Very few of the farmers had coolers for their products . How did they keep the milk fresh ? Many of them had spring houses , which were little shed-like buildings through which cold spring water flowed constantly . The containers of milk were placed in a cement trough , where the cold water continuously circulated around them . Other places had ice houses , where farmers stored blocks of ice surrounded by hay to keep them from melting too quickly . The milk cans were then placed between the ice blocks to be kept cold .
The milk cans were very heavy when full . Dad would remove the lid from each can and check the contents . After replacing the lid , he would write the farmer ’ s name on the lid with a grease pencil and then swing the can up into the truck . It was hard work . Dad ’ s arms were muscular and permanently suntanned .
The farmers , as well as their wives , always seemed happy to talk to the cream man . He would laugh and joke with them , exchanging local news and fish stories .
“ Got any bread today , Walter ?” some of them would ask , or “ Did you pick up any of those great doughnuts ?” I was unaware until I went with him that Dad also served as a baked-goods delivery man — gratis ! Early in the morning , before starting his route , he would go to the local bakery and buy bread and doughnuts to take with him . Of course , the customers paid him what he had paid the baker , but he never charged them an extra cent .
Those were the days when gasoline was rationed , and most farmers made few trips to town . I found that Dad had become an all-around delivery man , sometimes picking up medicine from the veterinarian or a shipment of baby chickens from the poultry store , to take to his cream customers , saving them a trip to town . I began to understand that he was an important link between the farms and the town .
After the full cream can had been stored safely in the truck and a shiny clean empty can had been left in its place , we would be off to the next stop .
In my eyes , the hardest part of dad ’ s job came after he finished picking up the cans of cream , and arrived at the cream station in Brookville . There he had to roll the heavy cans down a ramp from the truck and into the building . Mr . Cecil Rose , Dad ’ s partner , would use a pipette to extract a sample from the contents of each of the cans . He would test it for the percentage of milk fat , the basis upon which each farmer would get paid , and record the results in a special book . If the farmer didn ’ t own a cream separator , then Dad had to run the milk through the separator in the station . That was a fascinating process . The contents of a can would be poured into a huge bowl-type container which sat at the top of the separator . When a handle was turned , the bowl would spin , and the centrifugal force would send the yellow cream into one container and the bluish milk into another . The empty cans then had to be thoroughly washed by hand and sterilized over a steam vent . In the summertime , the cream station building was like a sauna .
Being a cream man wasn ’ t an easy job , but our dad loved it . He could never have held an office job . He needed to be outdoors and was far too loquacious to have enjoyed any kind of job which didn ’ t involve talking to people . His customers liked him , and we loved our Cream Man !
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Walter McCarty , Cream Man
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