The unit guidon is diplayed in front of the building in which the unit resides during the day and, again traditionally, the flag comes in and is put away when the commander leaves for the day. The Charge of Quarters (CQ: normally an NCO who is on a rostered duty to sit up all night and keep an eye on the company) is usually responsible for posting the guidon when the commander arrives in the morning and putting it away when he leaves.

When a unit changes commanders, part of the ceremony involves the passing of the guidon from the First Sergeant (who is charged with its safe-keeping, signifying the safe-keeping of the unit itself) to the out-going commander. The out-going commander then hands the guidon to the battalion commander, who gave him the responsibility of being in command in the first place. There is usually some shaking of the pole, like a four-handed handshake with a big stick in the middle, as the battalion commander tells the out-going commander what a fine job he has done. Then the out-going commander returns to the position of attention while the battalion commander turns to the new commander and they go through some pole-shaking as the battalion commander admonishes the new guy to do a good job and make this unit his own. The new commander then returns the guidon to the First Sergeant, who really runs the company, anyway. Then the new commander takes his place at the head of the company and the out-going guy usually moves into the reviewing party to watch his soldiers march by him one last time.

The unit guidon also displays the combat history of the unit through ribbons attached to the top of the pole and silver bands below the flag. Units which have had more participation have more "flash" on their guidons. First Sergeants proudly compare the "weight" of the unit's "stick". Referring to the silver bands on the guidon's pole.

I told you all that so I could tell you this. The 515th Transportation Company had one of the heaviest "sticks" in Germany. Having participated in actions in WWII, Korea, Vietnam, Desert Storm, and having been in Germany one heck of a long time. Now granted, some of the combat arms units (Infantry, Armor, and Artillery), have heavier sticks, they fought more...obviously. But for a combat service support unit, we had a danged heavy stick. And Bee stole it.

One morning it was gone. No one saw it go. No one knew who got it. No one said a word. In the evening before, the CQ took the guidon in and leaned it in its usual place inside the door of the building. Technically, the CQ was responsible for the guidon...and everything else in the unit...all night long. Securing the guidon is one of his duties, and it should have been secured in the orderly room office. But in practice, most of the CQs, if they remember at all, will park it just inside the door so they don't have to carry it the extra ten yards to the office. So when he went to put it out, no guidon. I should have ripped him up for it, and I did. But I knew that if someone wanted to steal it, they could have done it almost anytime. It's one of those things that you don't really notice around until it disappears.

We had been back from the desert for only a few weeks. The Stop Loss had been lifted and soldiers who had been on hold were now getting orders to leave, either to new assignments or to separate from the Army. So there was a lot of packing up and shipping things out; movers were in the company area almost every day. In my heart, my achy-breaky, sinking heart, I knew we would never see it again. At the morning formation I pointed out to the company that there was no guidon in front of them that morning and that there wouldn't be one in front of the building all day...for several days...until my guidon came home or a new one was procured to replace it. I shared with them my sadness that someone had taken our symbol and I pled with them to tell me anything they might know about its whereabouts. I even promised amnesty if it was returned. But even as I addressed them, there were a few in the group who wore smirks and tittered and I knew that they knew and that I couldn't do a darn thing about it.

It took some time and some doing to replace the guidon. When we finally got the new one it looked...I don't know...new. The old one had been a little weary and sand-blasted and a bit tattered. And the new pole was slick and new and light. It took a lot more time to find the silver bands to add to it. It just wasn't the same. It was our guidon...but it wasn't the guidon...the one that had flown proudly at the head of our convoys across Iraq and Kuwait. The one that had truly weathered the "storm" and looked it. Oh well...just things.

So, how do I know Bee took it? I don't KNOW it, but I know it. Sometime after he was gone I got a rumor that he had taken it. I can believe it; he would have the last word.