John Heinmiller

West Point, 2004

Be Thou At Peace

Posted by Neil Hollenbeck on April 23, 2001:

I have never seen word spread so quickly through the Corps as did the word of our loss on Sunday morning. The First Captain made an official annoucement over the poop deck Monday morning, but it was only a formality, as we already knew. I can't entirely grasp what emotions must grip John's family and friends at this moment, or what could be said to comfort them. But I will quote below the words, known well within the military community, of Abraham Lincoln upon a similar loss. God Bless John and his family. They are in our prayers. ___________________________________________________________________ Executive Mansion, Washington, Nov. 21, 1864. Dear Madam, I have been shown in the files of the War Department a statement of the Adjutant General of Massachusetts that you are the mother of five sons who have died gloriously on the field of battle. I feel how weak and fruitless must be any word of mine which should attempt to beguile you from the grief of a loss so overwhelming. But I cannot refrain from tendering you the consolation that may be found in the thanks of the Republic they died to save. I pray that our Heavenly Father may assuage the anguish of your bereavement, and leave you only the cherished memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom. Yours, very sincerely and respectfully, A. Lincoln _____________________________________________________________________ Also brought to the forefront of my mind are the lyrics to "The Corps", a song which every cadet knows by heart. John Heinmiller was and always will remain a member of the Long Gray Line. _____________________________________ The Corps! The Corp! The Corps! The Corps, bareheaded, salute it, With eyes up, Thanking our God - That we of the Corps are streading Where they of the Corps have trod - They are hear in Ghostly assemblage, The men of the Corps long dead, And our hearts are standing attention While we wait for their passing tread. We sons of today, we salute you - You sons of an earlier day; We follow close order behind you - Where you have pointed the way; The long gray line of us stretches Through the years of a century told, And the last man feels to his marrow The grip of your far off hold. Grip hands with us now though we see not, Grip hands with us, strengthen our hearts - As that long line stiffens and straightens With the thrill that your presence imparts. Grip hands tho' it be from the shadows, While we swear as you did of yore, Or living or dying to honor The Corps, and the Corps, and the Corps. ________________________________________________

admin