The Silence of the Dead

Friday, March 6, 1998

The Silence of the Dead

HISTORY: Since the Civil War, veterans have been laid to rest in
the rolling lawns of the cemetery next door

By Michelle Navarro

Daily Bruin Staff

On one side of Veteran Avenue live 35,000 noisy and lively
students. Across the street reside their 84,000 silent
neighbors.

Every day, Bruins drive by on Sepulveda Boulevard or Veteran
Avenue on their way to UCLA. But not many stop to look at what they
are whipping past – rows and rows of tombstones, marking the men
and women who put their lives on the line for the United States.
They are the soldiers who fought in battles ranging from the Civil
War to World War II.

Few passersby are conscious of the fathers, mothers, sons,
daughters, and even dogs, who have been laid to rest since 1889 in
the veterans’ cemetery located next to the blue and gold microcosm.
And this lack of recognition is reflected in the thousands of empty
vases scattered along the hills.

Instead of roses, full dandelions eager for someone to come and
blow their petals into the wind line the lawn. It is a peaceful,
almost sad, hush that sits within the gated realm. Time is at a
standstill there, since the assembly of white, stone markers,
slightly gray with age, continues to wait for visitors to come and
remember. To remember what the buried fought for.

"We still get thousands of people visiting the grave sites,"
said Lucy Devenney, the director of L.A. National Cemetery.

However, this number is small compared to other civilian
cemeteries. And as time goes by, the last of the relatives of those
interred will also pass on – leaving no one left to visit. What
about the 35,000 students next door?

"A lot of students use Constitution Avenue (a street that runs
through the burial ground) from Sepulveda to get to UCLA," offered
Devenney.

That’s all they do, drive by. If students could find the time to
take a minute, they might learn about the other community they
share Westwood with – the sleeping soldiers, with incredible pasts
virtually unknown to this generation.

It all began on May 11, 1889, with the cemetery’s first
interment, Abner Prather, a member of the Fourth Indiana Infantry.
From that point on, the hallowed grounds have continued to fill up
with war veterans until 1960, when the cemetery was closed to
further burials.

Now only second interments – close family of the soldiers
already there – are allowed. A rose garden, where the ashes of
veterans may be scattered, also is still open.

Peppered among the sea of graves are 14 recipients of the
Congressional Medal of Honor, the highest military award given by
Congress for bravery beyond the call of duty. The recipients were
from either the Civil War, the Indian Wars, the Korean Campaign,
the Boxer Rebellion or World War II.

Robert H. Von Schlick was the only one of the honorees who was
killed in action. Although Von Schlick was wounded, he carried a
fellow soldier to safety and returned to his command, which was
partially exposed on a dike. When his command withdrew, Von Schlick
remained there and kept up fire, making himself a visible target,
until he was shot down by the enemy.

The soldier from World War II, Chris Carr, made a one-man attack
that awarded him the prestigious medal.

When Carr’s squad was under enemy fire from machine guns,
pistols, rifles and mortars, he went ahead of his platoon to a
location where he could see the enemy. Under incredible danger,
Sergeant Carr captured five machine positions, killed eight
Germans, took 22 prisoners, cleared the ridge for his company to
advance, and dented the enemy line enough for the battalion to take
over commanding ground.

One of the dogs buried at L.A. National, Blackout, received full
military honors at his ceremony. The war dog was wounded during
World War II.

There are countless stories that could be told – if only the
dead could speak. But although their voices are silenced, a feeling
of history and importance emanates from the place.

"I have spent some time in the veterans’ cemetery," said Michael
Chandler, an administrative assistant for UCLA’s Orientation
Program. "It’s a pretty awesome sight to stand on the hill and look
out over the sea of white stones, marking the final resting places
of those who not only had to fight, but live on afterwards, with
the victory of death."

The various monuments contribute to the sense of honor
surrounding the graves. One in the southeast corner carries the
inscription: "To those who volunteered and extended the hand of
liberty to alien peoples, 1902." This particular structure was
donated by the Spanish-American War Veterans.

In the center of the burial ground is the indoor columbarium,
the only one in the National Cemetery System, a matching pergola
and a rostrum.

The columbarium has over 5,000 niches for cremated remains.
Inside, two small hallways reveal the thousands of name plaques, a
few of which hold a flower in their metal vases. In the center,
several uniforms and pictures on display personalize the
Spanish-style structure.

The rostrum (like a podium) is the site for the annual Memorial
Day Service, when Devenney said they get their largest
visitation.

"The Scouts come on the Saturday before and put an American Flag
on every grave," Devenney said, "It takes those kids about an hour
and a half to do it. It’s really great."

On that one day, the crowds gather to remember. But it can get
pretty lonely during the other 364 days of the year.

An inscription on a marker outside the administrative office
explains why they are worthy of a few minutes of time.

"Your own proud land’s heroic soul, must be your filler grave;
she claims from war his richest spoil, the ashes of the
brave."CHARLES KUO/Daily Bruin

As 84,000 markers line the ground of the L.A. National Cemetery,
an obelisk commemorates the veterans.