The Office of Missing Soldiers

This guest post from my friend Robert Moriarty.

I try to get to work on time, a lifelong habit appreciated by no one. I leave home early and if Metro behaves, I walk from Chinatown to L'Enfant to burn up the time and calories while seeking inner peace on this 17-minute downhill walk. For years I have passed Clara Barton's office, The Office of Missing Soldiers. It is an artifact hole-in-the-wall marked with a plaque for this founder of the Red Cross who offered succor to soldiers in that dreadful conflict. It is always locked and neglected, occasionally marked by a Chinese food carry-out menu (Would Clara understand that concept?). Lately I noticed some new signage, Park Service style, something about how Yankee soldiers were short of socks (what about the poor Rebels?).

Today there was a plastic sign like you might see in a small shop window, OPEN on one side CLOSED on the other. Oddly it was flipped to OPEN. I chuckled and walked past. Then I stopped and returned, twisted the ancient doorknob and it yielded. I stepped into The Office of Missing Soldiers and climbed the staircase, longer than a story, less than two. The place was brightly lit with those temporary construction light bulbs in yellow plastic cages. The place was stripped of furniture but there seemed to be period wallpaper, plaster and lathe, balusters and wood work. The floors were obviously old but too dirty to be appreciated. I walked from small mysterious room to room via narrow hallways and found a modern elevator which molested its surroundings as little as you might wish. Then I heard murmuring from a street-fronting room. I gingerly approached. I found in that room the last thing I ever expected to find at 8:00AM January 25, 2011. Perhaps two dozen soldiers, in battle dress, seated on folding chairs, politely listening to a lecture. Did I find the Missing Soldiers?