Tomb of the Unknown Soldier: Who's in it and how will they be honored on Memorial Day?
On Memorial Day each year, the 3rd US Infantry Regiment, also known as 'The Old Guard', places more than 260,000 American flags at Arlington National Cemetery and the US Soldiers' and Airmen's Home National Cemetery.
Read More: What restaurants are open on Memorial Day 2025? McDonald's, Chick-fil-A, Starbucks, and more
Soldiers then place the flags at one booth length in front of each headstone. This is known as 'Flags In'. Flags are also placed at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetery in Virginia is a monument honoring unidentified US service members who died in combat.
Read More: Memorial Day 2025: Date, significance, history and traditions of the US federal holiday
The tomb contains the remains of unidentified US service members from World War I, World War II, and the Korean War. These individuals were selected to represent all unidentified soldiers who made the ultimate sacrifice. The anonymity of the remains is central to the monument's symbolism, as they could belong to any fallen soldier. The inscription on the sarcophagus reads, 'Here rests in honored glory an American soldier known but to God.'
World War I unknown: On November 11, 1921, an unidentified soldier from World War I was interred after being selected by US Army Sgt. Edward F. Younger from four caskets exhumed from American cemeteries in France.
World War II unknown: On May 30, 1958, an unidentified soldier from World War II was interred in a crypt beside the World War I tomb. Hospital Corpsman 1st Class William R Charette selected the remains from two caskets.
Korean War unknown: Also on May 30, 1958, an unidentified soldier from the Korean War was buried in an adjacent crypt.
Vietnam War unknown (formerly): In 1984, an unidentified soldier from the Vietnam War was interred, selected by Marine Corps Sgt Maj Allan Jay Kellogg Jr. However, in 1998, DNA testing identified the remains as Air Force 1st Lt. Michael Joseph Blassie. His body was exhumed, returned to his family, and reburied in St. Louis, Missouri.
As of May 25, 2025, the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier contains three bodies:
One unidentified soldier from World War I.
One unidentified soldier from World War II.
One unidentified soldier from the Korean War.
The Vietnam War crypt is empty following the 1998 exhumation of Blassie's remains.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Indian Express
19 hours ago
- Indian Express
4-year-old Odia boy charms the internet with fluent Kannada in viral video
In a heartwarming video that has gone viral, a four-year-old boy from an Odia family is seen speaking fluent Kannada, beautifully showcasing how two cultures can blend seamlessly. In the video, a woman interacts with the boy in English and asks simple questions such as 'What is your name?', 'What is your father's name?', 'What is your mother's name?' and 'How old are you?'. The boy replies to all questions fluently in Kannada, showcasing how he picked up the local language effortlessly. The video was shared on Reddit by @servantofpeople, with the caption, 'My Nephew is 4 years old. We are from odisha. Brother lives in Bangalore. My cutie is speaking kannada.' The video has garnered 361 upvotes on the social media platform. My Nephew Learning Kannada byu/servantofpeople inkarnataka The users expressed their admiration for the boy's effortless command of the language. One user commented, 'Very cute, keep it up. Great parenting.' Another user chimed in, 'Cutest thing I've seen all day. Kudos to the teachers and parents.' A third user wrote, 'Aww! This is toooo cute!! Lots of love to your family.' Lastly, a fourth user added, 'Sister, I'm happy to see this. God bless you and the kid!' Kannada is spoken by over 50 million people in Karnataka and nearby regions of India. Over the last few years, the language row has been a flashpoint in the state. In March, the language debate in Bengaluru flared up again after a signboard at a local eatery in Vidyaranyapura sparked controversy. The sign—'Hindi is the official language'—at Sri Guru Darshan Cafe, had triggered backlash on social media and reignited discussions about linguistic identity in Karnataka's capital.
New Indian Express
a day ago
- New Indian Express
Love in the time of war
We live in perilous times. The world is seeing wars and war-like situations all over the world for the first time since the end of World War II. We, in India, had our challenging times a few weeks ago, and conflicts are happening in literally every continent with major flashpoints and a whole lot of other fires that are not really getting global attention because of their more limited impact. But the fact remains that we may be the closest to a global crisis than we have ever been, in close to a century. Whether one is an Iranian in love with an Israeli, an Indian with a Pakistani, Chinese with a Taiwanese, or a Rwandan with a Congolese, when things get to a head, our different loyalties get called into question. Love is supposed to be a healing factor, it is supposed to help us connect to our humanity beyond our differences. In times of peace, we even celebrate such love across borders and even encourage it, but when conflicts erupt, these are the very relationships that get called into question. When loyalties clash and the larger world outside demands allegiance to specific identities, the intangible bond of love can feel very fragile. The pressure to choose sides, to abandon the person who represents the 'other', becomes immense.
Deccan Herald
a day ago
- Deccan Herald
Beyond the skylines
Some places stay with us not because they are extraordinary, but because we have passed them a hundred times—a statue we noticed from a bus window, a name on a plaque that meant nothing until it suddenly did. Our cities are full of such quiet ecology is more than trees, parks, and lakes. Cities are living organisms — they breathe through people, move through infrastructure, and remember through stone. Statues, war memorials, and other commemorative structures may appear inert, but they form part of a city's sensory and symbolic landscape. They mark the rhythms of everyday life and carry the weight of historical memory. As cities grow and shift, these objects do not merely stand still — they speak, they fade, they often think of ecology in terms of natural systems: green cover, biodiversity, and water bodies. But built forms—especially commemorative ones—are just as much part of our urban commons. These are shared, negotiated, and lived-in spaces that shape how we inhabit the city — and how the city, in turn, inhabits is this more evident than in Northeast India, where cities like Kohima, Imphal, and Guwahati place war memorials at the heart of their civic and tourist landscapes. These spaces honour soldiers of World War II, but they also serve as spaces for reflection, storytelling, and intergenerational memory. Nearby monoliths — raised to commemorate victories, festivals, or mythical events — similarly stand as archives in stone. These are not just historical installations; they are textured, symbolic elements of urban contrast, commemorative structures in many Indian metros fade into the background. We may pass them without a second glance. Delhi's Teen Murti, for example, was a fixture on my childhood commute. Only later did I learn that it memorialises three Indian cavalry regiments from World War Bengaluru, my home city, there is a small but significant war memorial tucked away at the junction of Brigade and Residency Roads. It is the city's oldest, commemorating the Madras Pioneers, a regiment famously mentioned in the Sherlock Holmes series as the 'Bangalore Pioneers'. I once pointed it out to a friend, who was surprised that she had never noticed it. Just a short walk away stands a more ironic figure — the statue of Queen Victoria overlooking the Kasturba Road junction. Erected with contributions from the residents of the Bangalore Cantonment and the Maharaja of Mysore, it depicts the queen in ceremonial robes of the Order of the Garter. Legend has it that during a court ball, the Countess of Salisbury's garter slipped, prompting the king to retrieve it and declare, 'Shame on him who thinks ill of it'. That phrase became the motto of the order. In a twist of history, this statue, adorned in the robes of a chivalric legend, stood as a quiet bystander to the feminist protests of the 1970s. Not too long ago, the Mahatma Gandhi statue on MG Road was a regular rallying point for civic gatherings. .These monuments are not passive. They structure movement, host emotion, and shape memory. They are landmarks, but also civic companions. However, as cities expand and priorities shift, these spaces are often re-layered, sometimes deliberately, often carelessly. In the churn of urban development, they risk being edited out of the South End Circle, once the city's southern boundary, now part of Bengaluru's urban sprawl. Growing up in the 1990s, I often crossed it on my way to visit my grandparents. What always caught my eye was a bust, with 'Tee Nam Shri Circle' written on an old plaque. Curious, I asked my father, who told me that he was a great Kannada writer. Years later, a new music teacher at school turned out to be Tee Nam Shri's granddaughter. I felt a quiet thrill — the statue that I had passed by for years now felt real, and a connection was over time, the space around the bust changed. A massive billboard went up, its pillar blocking the bust. Later, a lion sculpture was added, crowding the circle further. The bust became harder to see, increasingly obscured by commercial clutter and new commemorations. Even after moving away from the city, every visit home included a glance to check — is it still there? It was. Still is. But more hidden than ever. I recently read more about Tee Nam Shri. He was the one who suggested the term 'Rashtrapati' as the vernacular equivalent of 'president'. What began as a passing childhood curiosity led to a deeper understanding of how everyday urban structures shape our memory and sense of and memorials are not just leftovers of history. They are part of our cities' social ecology. They root us across time and generations. To preserve these spaces is not just to conserve the past but to make room for reflection in the present. As cities transform, these quiet sites deserve renewed attention. To remember a city is to remember more than its skylines. It is to remember the quiet markers, the names nearly erased, the busts hidden behind billboards. To remember is to belong..(The writer is a faculty at Azim Premji University, Bengaluru)
