A heartfelt act of true heroism

When Airman Cassandra Burns got a call that her base’s flag had broken free from its pole, she spent hours holding it up so it wouldn’t touch the ground— and learned the true meaning of patriotism

Iwas a new Airman attending technical school in Monterey, California. I was assigned to Charge of Quarters (CQ) duty on July 4, 2008. An hour into a very long, minimally manned shift, we got a call. The base f lag’s straps had snapped in the extreme wind of the early morning, and the flag was falling.

Another Airman and I drove to the site to check things out. A maintenance man, who happened to be on base and made the call, was attempting to lift the flag off the ground. The f lag was unbelievably large, and the pole stood in a field off to the side of the road.

My fellow Airman, the maintenance worker and I each took a corner of the flag and held it off the ground. It was extremely heavy and a difficult task for the three of us alone. My co-worker called our sergeant to inform him of the situation, and he said he would make some calls and be there to assist as soon as he could. We were already feeling the extreme weight of the flag in our six arms and knew this was not going to be easy, but we never questioned the task that had fallen to us. Then we began to take turns using one hand to make calls and texts to friends and colleagues to try and acquire assistance.

We were not incredibly confident that we would be successful in gaining ample assistance on the early morning of July 4th. It was a Friday and the first day of a three-day holiday weekend. Most of our fellow students would be taking advantage of the time off for the holiday and be sleeping in. Many would already be headed to the beach for the weekend Fourth of July festivities and a muchneeded break from the intense studies and duties we performed daily.

The sergeant arrived about an hour after we began. He was frantically trying to find someone who could fix the straps so we could raise the flag. His attempts were mainly answered with voice mail that informed him of holiday closures and promises of response on the next business day. Another hour passed, and the sergeant took a corner to aid our aching arms as much as he could. He had exhausted all options, and now the only thing he could do was wait. He continued to check his phone frequently, hoping for any response or instruction. The four of us continued to hold Old

Glory as high as our aching arms could. We ensured she didn’t touch the ground, but our muscles were exhausted. The sun was also rising higher, and it was getting hot.

We saw a car pull up, and two Airmen in civvies started to walk toward us. Without instruction, they each took a spot and bore some of the weight of the massive flag. They were friends of friends (who were actively headed back from the beach to help) that we had contacted. They informed us that they had contacted a few more of their friends who were now on their way as well. About a half hour later, a few more cars pulled up full of Airmen coming to assist us. With the added people, the flag was still incredibly heavy, but much more bearable than before. As more people arrived, we were able to hold the flag out more evenly, which aided in the weight distribution.

We stood, mostly silent, arms shaking, brows dripping from the heat of the sun for more than 4 hours. Finally, our sergeant got the call that instructed us to do our best to fold up the flag as no one was open on the holiday that could repair the broken straps, and no Honor Guard was currently available. None of us were trained in the Honor Guard and had no idea how to properly fold the flag. We did our best and folded it as neatly as we could. Afterward, we all shook hands and went our separate ways. Many headed out to celebrate

“We were already feeling the extreme weight of the flag in our six arms and knew this was not going to be easy”

our country’s independence with beach barbecues. Some returned to their dorms for some much-needed rest. I returned to my Friday duties.

Throughout the remainder of the day, I thought about how those of us who held that flag off the ground never asked why or gave up on a task many would have deserted. We were not trained for this. They did not teach us in Basic Training to keep the flag off the ground.

I learned something that hot July day. Seeing many young military members come together for a task many would consider futile taught me that true patriotism is shown in the selfless actions of those living in a country they love. The irony that this all happened on Independence Day was not lost on me. I think about it every July 4th with a smile on my face.

My arms may have ached for days, but I had never been prouder. That gargantuan flag had always been there, but it flew higher in my eyes after that day. I never once passed it again without a smile and the newfound appreciation that I had gained for all that it represented. On that day, I learned the meaning of true patriotism, and that is something I will never forget. —Cassandra Burns