I can't recall how many times I was sent to render Military Honors. Although I only did it for a period of two months, it seemed that I went to Florida a lot of times. The Army had suffered its highest causalities during 1968. I kept only one set of orders - the one for George Lee. He was the first I played Taps for. Others followed, one in Lakeland, two in Tampa, another in Winter Park. I don't remember the rest. Although I was part of the funeral detail, I did not travel with them. I went as an individual. The band clerk made all of the arrangements. There were other buglers. I played on cue from a hidden location. The Army wanted the sound to waffle over the cemetery without a pinpointed source. I wasn't required to wear a uniform but I always did. It was depressing duty that exposed me to the ultimate sadness of war.