Martin William “Marty” Berg

October 21, 1941 – March 6, 2026

Martin William “Marty” Berg passed into eternal rest on March 6, 2026, joining his beloved parents and younger brother in the presence of the Lord.

Marty will be remembered as a loving husband, a devoted father of three, a proud grandfather of seven, and a cherished great-grandfather of four. Throughout his life, he also welcomed many adopted children into his heart and home, touching countless lives with his kindness and generosity. He will be deeply missed by all who knew and loved him.

Marty lived a long and full life. Raised in a hardworking farming family, he carried those values with him throughout the years. He proudly served his country in the United States Navy, making it his career. After his military service, he entered the construction field and later opened and operated his own small business. Marty also shared his knowledge and experience with others as a teacher and anyone who was willing to listen. In time, he took to the open road as a truck driver, traveling across the United States before eventually settling into retirement in the southeast corner of Wyoming.

Marty will be laid to rest at Cheyenne National Cemetery at a later date. In keeping with his wishes, services will be small and private, shared only with family and close friends.

In lieu of flowers, the family asks that donations be made to a children’s home of your choice, a cause that was close to Marty’s heart.

In Well-Trimmed Fields

In well-trimmed fields

of white stone

beneath the waves

of the sea,

the volley sounds

and the bugle plays.

Heads are bowed

and tears flow free

as flags are folded

in somber silence.

Another soul

is laid to rest.

A day of remembrance

is set aside

to remember the fallen

and the family.

With lowered flags

and well-placed flowers

a memory is stirred,

a tear shed.

In well-trimmed fields

of white stone

beneath the waves

of the sea,

heads are bowed

and tears flow free.

When I Drop My Anchor

When I drop my anchor

for the last time,

cut the chain

and let it fall.

Let me drift in the wind

to rest in the land

where I was born.

Let my memories

drift along

to touch the ones

who look for some.

Hold me not

from my peace

when I drop my anchor

for the last time.

Cry not long,

for I’m gone.

Your tears will fall

on hallowed ground.

My memories drift

on the wind,

falling out on the ground—

forgotten soon

and left to rot.

When I drop my anchor

for the last time,

cut the chain

and let it fall

to the murky depths

far below.