Il Silenzio (The Silence) is a more formal, concert trumpet version of Taps, written in 1965 by Italian trumpeter Nino Rosso. One of our choir members asked to play it as a Veterans Day observance in church yesterday morning. From a bulletin insert I learned the story behind “Taps.” There is no attribution for the story, but I know of no reason to believe it is not true.

Of all the military bugle calls, none is so easily recognized or more apt to render emotion than Taps. Taps began as a revision to the signal for “Lights Out” at the end of the military day. The music for Taps was adapted by Union General Daniel Butterfield in July, 1862.

Played slowly and expressively, it has a tender, touching, mournful character, in keeping with the fact that it is sounded not only for ‘Lights Out,’ but also over the soldier’s grave, be he General or Private, so that as with ‘Lights Out’ night closes in on the soldier’s day, so with the same call the curtain rolls down on his life.

There are no official word to Taps, but there are several popular verses. One of the most popular follows:

Day is done, gone the sun,
From the hills, from the lake, from the sky.
All is well, safely rest,
God is nigh.

There are several versions of the story of the origin of Taps. One popular version is that a Union Army Captain, Robert Ellicombe, found a mortally wounded Confederate soldier on the battlefield, who turned out to be his son. At the military funeral he arranged for his son, the Captain asked a bugler to play a series of musical notes he had found on a piece of paper in the pocket of his dead son’s uniform. The music, according to the story, was the haunting melody we now know as Taps. While a good story, it seems to be an absolute myth. There is no evidence to support the story, nor is there even evidence that a Captain Robert Ellicombe ever existed.

It seems that of all the stories about the origin of Taps, the most generally accepted is the General Butterfield version. It should be noted that he did not actually compose Taps, but rather revised an earlier call into the present version. The General, who could play the bugle, did not read music.

Taps conveys an important message through its 24 notes. To U.S. soldiers from the Civil War on, when sounded at night the call meant that all was well. It gave a sense of security and safety to those men and also signaled that another day in the service to their country was done.

I was privileged to spend a few days in the service of my country as a 2nd Lieutenant, U.S. Army Signal Corps, in the 1950s. I tasted Army life successively at Camp Gordon and Fort Benning, GA; Fort Monmouth, NJ, and Fort Hood, TX. I will never forget the sound of Taps as I headed for bed on those days spent living in the Bachelor Officer’s Quarters on post.

I am fortunate never to have experienced combat. I was a few years too young to be in World War II, and a little too late to serve in Korea. As an Army shavetail in training, I happily settled for the experience of being chased squirming through the dust by a company of basic trainees, bayonets fixed, on the “confidence course” at Fort Dix, NJ, with 30 caliber machine gun rounds snapping safely 3 feet over my head.

Such is life.

Dave, which he now can’t even do a snappy about-face without falling on his face.