Thirty Three Years and Ten Days

The morning of July 21, 1976 it was a typical hot and humid morning at Fort Bragg North Caroline. Unlike my fellow ROTC cadets I was not getting my Fatigues and gear ready for the parade, rather I was changing into a set of Tropical Worsted (the Old Army Tan summer uniform) for my commissioning as a second lieutenant in the United States Army.

A few minutes before 9AM I made my way down to the Company Orderly Room, where at 0900 sharp my father and mother arrived to commission me. On the scale of 1 to 10 with 10 being the fanciest, it was a 1 and not very fancy. The commissioning took place in front of the Administrative Sergeants desk; the only witnesses were my mother and whoever else was in the room. My father, medically retired at the end of World War II, was dressed as if he was headed to court (he was an attorney). Grey suit, white shirt, black shoes, perfectly tied bow tie, and topped by the ever-present Stetson Open Road hat. For the next two minutes he was all lawyer and my father, as the intoned that I should repeat after him and he administered the oath of office, ending with a loud and clearly stated, ”So help you God.” At that point I ceased to be Mr. Foresman and was now 2nd Lieutenant Foresman and little could have I guessed on that hot humid morning that thirty some years later I would finally be hanging up the uniform of the United States Army. Today is my final day as an active duty member of the United States Army—tonight at midnight I will be Henry J. Foresman, Jr.; Colonel, USA—Retired.

I must admit that for the last ninety or so days I have been getting in practice, as I have been on Transition leave. I have grown a mustache, which would cause a Sergeant Major to short circuit, my hair is longer, and my new uniform is either a suit or sport jacket and slacks, with shirt and tie. In all honesty though I am going to miss it.

James Madison in Federalist 41 said, “Every man who loves peace, every man who loves his country, every man who loves liberty, ought to have it ever before his eyes, that he may cherish in his heart a due attachment to the Union of America, and be able to set a due value on the means of preserving it.” All of us, who serve, regardless of service, have set a value of our contributions to the United States of America. The life we have chosen is not easy. In my thirty-three years the Army has changed greatly, we have gone from being a Cold War focused Army to an Expeditionary Army. We use to complain when we spent two hundred or more days in the field training . . .to where deployments for 12 or even 15 months are the norm, with little time at home. We do things because we are told to, we go places that our nation has decided are important, there is not one of us, who does willingly make these choices—for we are a volunteer military.

I have seen the Army and United States military change over the years, some good and some bad. I have known exceptional officers and non-commissioned officers and some who were not so good. As near I can figure out I have worn TWs (see above), greens, new shade greens, had a separate overcoat and raincoat, had a black bag called a combination rain/over coat, a trench coal over/rain coat, dress blues, mess dress, fatigues, permanent press fatigues, BDU, jungle fatigues, Rip Stop BDUs, Desert Cammie, and ACUs, I have had web gear, web harnesses, and MOLLE. The one constant has been the M16 or some variation. I have driven tanks, recovery vehicles, Gamma Goats, M151, M113s, Bradleys, HMMWV, 21/2 and 5 tons that were stick shift and not automatic. I have flown in Airplanes, helicopters, and conducted air assaults.

I would be remiss if I didn’t talk about the great officers and NCOs I have served with over the years. Officers like Jim Ellis, Joe Peterson, Gary Speer, Ted Shuey, Bruce Hopkins, Hal Worrell, Kevin Benson, Tim Horner, Brian Baldy, VJ Tedesco, and many others. Each in some way has shaped me in my career. Two officers, who I did not serve with on active duty, but with whom I was well acquainted during my Cadetship, had the greatest influence on my career. One, then Major James R. Williams USMC (COL USMC RET) was a company tactical officer while I was at VMI. Known behind his back as either the Skull or Major Sir James the Horrible, through his demeanor and interaction with Cadets he demonstrated daily what professionalism was. The other was our Commandant, Colonel William J. Buchanan. “Uncle Buck” as he was known as by Cadets epitomized what a quiet professional was and should be. He set the example and each day he taught the Corps of Cadets something about being a leader. The Non-Commissioned Officer is the backbone of the Army, and in my case I have been fortunate over the years to know some great one. The one, who most shaped me as an Officer, was Sergeant First Class Alvis C. Poe (CSM, USA RET). SFC Poe was the Senior Drill Sergeant of the Basic Training Company I commanded at Fort Leonard Wood Missouri and from him I learned what a true professional NCO was. He demonstrated his ability as an NCO not by words but by deeds. He also provided the wisest of counsel to the young commander and more than once kept me from shooting myself in the foot.

As I leave the Army, I leave it as I found it, in disarray. Smaller than the Army I joined, truly an All Volunteer Force, the Army today is stretched thin. I wish it could be said that it is ably led, but unfortunately the Chief of Staff of the Army—George Casey—while an honorable man, is not providing either leadership or direction. In some respects, he is the William Westmorland of his generation. While he did not fail in Iraq; neither did he succeed. The job of CSA was a reward for an adequate performance. Because of his tepid leadership the Army is rudderless and is caught in the swift currents of two ground wars. After Vietnam, a generation of officers such as Colin Powell rebuilt the Army, by focusing it on the threat of the Soviet Union. In doing so they pushed the notion of counterinsurgency to the back of Army doctrine and emphasized maneuver warfare. Today, we once again find ourselves involved in a counterinsurgency, but unlike Vietnam its aftermath, we shan’t have the luxury of focusing on one enemy such as the Soviet Union. A new generation will rebuild the Army, a generation honed by the multiple deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan. A generation who will restore the balance in the Army, who will lead by example, who will change, fundamentally the ethos of the service.

As I leave this younger generation is making its presences felt and will be the future leader of our Army. As I leave, I will miss it terribly but will do so with the satisfaction I did my part, but also with the satisfaction, that as it has for over two hundred years the United States Army will be there. While written about those who attend VMI, I believe that Colonel J. T. L. Preseton rightly describes those who have entered their nations call not only in the Army, but also in our sister services, the United States Navy, the United States Marine Corps, the United States Air Force, and the United States Coast Guard:

The healthful and pleasant abode of a crowd of honorable youth pressing up the hill of science with noble emulation a gratifying spectacle an honor to our country and our state objects of honest pride to their instructors and fair specimens of citizen soldier attached to their native state proud of her fame and ready in every time of deepest peril to vindicate her honor and defend her rights.

As I leave, let me leave you with this quote from Henry V that captures the spirit of our Army and what it means to me. To all the soldiers, past and present, with whom I have served, thanks for the ride, it has been an honor to call you my brothers and sisters in arms.

What’s he that wishes so?

My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin;

If we are mark’d to die, we are enow

To do our country loss; and if to live,

The fewer men, the greater share of honour.

God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.

By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,

Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;

It yearns me not if men my garments wear;

Such outward things dwell not in my desires.

But if it be a sin to covet honour,

I am the most offending soul alive.

No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.

God’s peace! I would not lose so great an honour

As one man more methinks would share from me

For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!

Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,

That he which hath no stomach to this fight,

Let him depart; his passport shall be made,

And crowns for convoy put into his purse;

We would not die in that man’s company

That fears his fellowship to die with us.

This day is call’d the feast of Crispian.

He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,

Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d,

And rouse him at the name of Crispian.

He that shall live this day, and see old age,

Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,

And say ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispian.’

Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,

And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispian’s day.’

Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,

But he’ll remember, with advantages,

What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,

Familiar in his mouth as household words-

Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,

Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-

Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb’red.

This story shall the good man teach his son;

And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world,

But we in it shall be remembered-

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;

For he to-day that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,

This day shall gentle his condition;

And gentlemen in England now-a-bed

Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,

And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks

That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

Hank Foresman aka Townie 76

PS I will still continue to post.