Taps

"Taps" was born not from artistic inspiration, but from military necessity during the American Civil War. In July 1862, at Harrison's Landing, Virginia, the Union Army of the Potomac was recovering from the brutal Seven Days Battles.

Brigadier General Daniel Adams Butterfield found the regulation French "Extinguish Lights" call too harsh and frenetic for the somber atmosphere of a camp mourning heavy losses. He wanted something that conveyed rest, peace, and care for his exhausted men.

Butterfield summoned his brigade bugler, Private Oliver Willcox Norton, and showed him some notes scribbled on the back of an envelope. Norton played them, Butterfield refined them—lengthening some notes, shortening others—and "Taps" was born. Crucially, Butterfield didn't compose from scratch; he revised the final measures of an older, obsolete call called the "Scott Tattoo."

The sound carried across the humid Virginia air to neighboring brigades that night. By morning, buglers from other units were visiting Norton to learn the new melody. It spread virally through the Army—and was even adopted by Confederate forces who heard it across the lines.

The transition of "Taps" from a bedtime signal to a funeral rite happened almost immediately, driven by tactical necessity rather than ceremony.

In early July 1862, Captain John C. Tidball needed to bury a corporal killed in action. Standard protocol required a three-volley rifle salute, but Tidball's battery was concealed in forward woods near Confederate forces. He feared rifle fire would be mistaken for an attack.

His solution was elegant: he ordered the bugler to sound "Taps" over the grave instead. This improvisational decision established a precedent that spread through the entire army.

This moment marked the bifurcation of "Taps" into its dual roles: the signal for sleep for the living, and the signal of eternal rest for the dead. It was a substitution born of safety that became a tradition of sanctity.

"Taps" presents a musical paradox: it's composed entirely in a major key—typically associated with joy—yet evokes profound grief. The explanation lies in its unique structure.

The melody uses only four notes from the bugle's harmonic series (the 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 6th harmonics), forming a slow, arpeggiated major triad. Several factors transform this "happy" tonality into something deeply mournful:

• Extreme tempo: Played at 40-50 beats per minute, the sustained notes create a sense of fading light or life ebbing away
• Harmonic stagnation: The melody never departs from the tonic triad—no tension-and-release. It suggests stasis, eternal sleep, a final state of being
• Acoustic solitude: A single instrument, unaccompanied, emphasizes isolation. The silence between notes is as important as the notes themselves
• The rise and fall: The melody ascends to a climax (the high note), then descends back to rest—mirroring a human sigh, or the arc of a life

The performance of "Taps" at a military funeral is a rigid liturgical act governed by Department of Defense instructions. Understanding the protocol helps families know what to expect.

The Standard Sequence:

1. The casket team moves the remains to the grave
2. Committal service (religious or civil rites)
3. Firing party fires three rifle volleys (not a "21-gun salute"—that's for heads of state)
4. "Taps" sounds immediately after the third volley, while smoke still hangs in the air
5. Flag folding begins after the last note fades
6. Flag presentation to next of kin

Audience etiquette:

• Military personnel in uniform: render hand salute from first note to last
• Civilians: stand, remove headgear, place right hand over heart

Eligibility: Any veteran with an Honorable discharge (verified via DD-214), active duty service members, and certain retirees are entitled to military funeral honors including "Taps."

The most famous rendition of "Taps" in history occurred on November 25, 1963, at President Kennedy's funeral. The bugler was Sergeant Keith Clark of the U.S. Army Band.

Clark had stood in freezing cold for three hours at Arlington before the moment arrived. When he stepped forward to play, he cracked the sixth note—the high G—slightly (called "fracking" in trumpet terminology).

To musicians, it was a technical error caused by cold lips. But the nation interpreted the mistake as a "tear in the music"—a broken note for a broken heart. It became a poignant symbol of collective trauma, representing the imperfection of human grief.

Clark's bugle is now displayed at the Arlington National Cemetery Visitor Center. The incident illustrates how the fragility of a live performance adds emotional weight that a recording cannot replicate.

There is no federal law prohibiting "Taps" at civilian funerals, but cultural norms play a significant role.

Widely accepted for:

• Veterans (entitled by law)
• Police officers and firefighters killed in the line of duty
• Former first responders
• High-ranking government officials

Consider carefully for:

• Standard civilians—among veterans, using "Taps" for a non-veteran may be viewed as "stolen valor"
• The cultural currency of the song is seen as "earned" through service

Alternatives for civilian services: "Amazing Grace" on bagpipes provides similar emotional weight without the specifically military connotation.

The bugler shortage: There aren't enough military buglers to cover all veteran funerals. Bugles Across America provides 1,500+ volunteer buglers nationwide at no cost to families—ensuring veterans receive a live tribute rather than a digital recording.