Uncle Noble

80 years ago this week, my “Uncle” Noble and the 9th Infantry Division sealed off the Cherbourg Peninsula eleven days after D-Day during WWII. I was thinking about him while watching the Band of Brothers on TV. When Easy Company jumped into Normandy for their first wartime engagement, Noble and the 9th had already been in combat for over 1 1/2 years.

 Noble was Dad’s best friend, after his brothers, Mick and George. Both he and Dad joined the Army when underage in 1940, over a year before WWII started. They were in B Company, 60th Regimental Combat Team (RCT), of the storied 9th Infantry Division. 

Dad and Noble in ‘41 or early ‘42.

Mom, Dad, “Uncle” Noble and “Aunt” Myra were great friends through the years and got together several times a year.  The four of them had a close friendship that lasted a lifetime.  I learned a lot about life, and about enjoying life from all of them, but particularly Dad and Noble. They told stories from their time in the Army – almost always funny stories of things that happened. The serious stuff?  The stories of death and destruction? Those didn’t make it to the kitchen table where folks gathered, drinking coffee and listening, as these two combat veterans told their tales. 

Noble’s actual WWII story is interesting.  It’s one you can’t really tell without also telling the story of the 9th. 

Dad and Noble’s wartime experience started on November 8th, 1942, when the 9th took part in the Invasion of North Africa. Until D-Day happened, it was the largest wartime amphibious assault ever. After three days of battle, they took Port Lyautey, Morocco and the Vichy French surrendered.  After some downtime, in January of ‘43, the 60th RCT was the only unit selected to take part in a review for President Roosevelt who was at the Casablanca Conference. Dad and Noble were both there and told us funny stories of the comments in the ranks as Roosevelt passed their unit in a jeep for the review. “Hey Rosie – who’s leading the country while you’re over here?” “Hey Rosie – Who’s keeping Mamie warm while you’re over here?”

Roosevelt Reviewing the 60th RCT During the Casablanca Conference

Things got tough again after that. Starting in February, they fought their way across Algeria and then Tunisia. Station de Sened, Maknassy, Bizerte – forgotten names now, but deadly locations in the spring of ‘43. The Germans eventually surrendered at Bizerte, on May 9th, 1943, just over a year before D-Day. 

The 9th wasn’t finished though. A little over two months later, in July of ‘43 they took part in the invasion of Sicily.  The 60th conducted the famous “Ghost March” through the mountains of Sicily, which the Germans originally thought were impenetrable. Dad was shot three times there, and almost died. It took them a few days to evacuate Dad to an aid station, and then a hospital. The war was over for him and they eventually sent him back to the States. 

Chicago Tribune Asking for a Picture After Dad was Wounded.

In fact Dad’s wounds were so severe, Noble thought he had died, or would die shortly. As they evacuated him, Noble and the 60th continued the fight. 38 days after the invasion began, Sicily fell on August 20th. Noble was there when Patton addressed the Division on August 26th, congratulating them for their efforts.  

In September of ‘43, the 9th deployed to England for rest and refitting. With just over nine months until D-Day, the 60th had already fought in four countries on two continents.

On June 10th, D-Day plus 4, Noble and the 9th landed on Utah Beach. Their mission? Attack towards Cherbourg and cut off the peninsula. This they did and on the 17th of June, reached the ocean on the other side of the peninsula, and eventually, captured the port of Cherbourg itself. If you’ve forgotten your history, Cherbourg was critical for the allies to establish a port on the Atlantic Seaboard. Back home, the news singled out the 9th for their efforts. 

Ernie Pyle and Time Magazine Talking About the 9th on the Peninsula

From there, they started on the great chase across France. The 9th advanced over 600 miles by the end of September thru France and into Belgium. In 3 1/2 months they were engaged in three major campaigns and were only out of action for a total of five days. 

The 9th was among the first units entering Germany itself. For actions on December 12th in the Hurtgen Forest area of Germany, Noble’s unit, B company 60th RCT, received a Distinguished Unit Citation for combat actions in Germany. At the time, the company probably had around 80 or so men.

Noble and B Company, in Action Just Before the Bulge

Just after the 12th, The 9th was pulled out of the line due to the heavy casualties they had sustained. It was “resting” in the Monschau Forest area of Belgium, when on December 16th, 1944, the German winter offensive, the “Battle of the Bulge” started. Thrown back into combat, the Division beat back the enemy at the northern edge of “The Bulge”. 

The Battle of the Bulge, The Ardennes, the fight across Germany to the Rhine River – Noble saw all of that. On 7 March, when the American 9th Armored Division captured the bridge across the Rhine River at Remagen, Noble and the 60th RCT were among the first Infantry units to cross under heavy fire and defend the bridgehead from the East side of the Rhine. 

The 9th at Remagen

On across Germany – The Ruhr, The Hartz Mountains… On April 26th, 1945, a patrol from the 60th RCT linked up with the Russians at the Elbe River. The war in Europe officially ended on May 7th. 

Noble spent 2 1/2 years in combat, fought in seven countries and survived without a scratch. Miracles do happen. 

In 1950, a minor miracle also happened. 

In July of that year, a knock came at my parent’s door and Mom answered. A young couple was standing there and wanted to know if William Hall lived there.  Mom said yes and called Dad.  All of a sudden there was yelling, and exclamations, and hugging, and dancing and back pounding – it was Noble, and his new wife Myra.  

It turned out Noble and Myra were traveling from a vacation in Wisconsin back to Southern Illinois where they lived, when they passed our hometown – Ottawa. Noble thought Dad had died in Sicily, and then remembering he was from Ottawa, decided to stop in and see if he could find Dad’s parents and offer his condolences. He looked the name William Hall up in the phone book, and stopped off at the local VFW to see if anyone knew of Dad or his relations. They then drove to the address from the phone book, assuming it was my grandfather’s home. Instead, he and Dad saw each other for the first time since August of 1943 in Sicily. 

I was born in ’55 and named Max Noble Hall in honor of Noble.  I always enjoyed seeing him and Myra over the years during their visits.  Later, at West Point, and then while spending my own time in the Army, I often asked myself if I was measuring up to these men from B Company of the 60th RCT.  

Noble and Dad in the Mid-‘70s in Ottawa. Still Ready to Kick Ass.

I feel so lucky having known them and having heard the stories Noble and Dad told. It’s only in the last decade I’ve matched those stories up to the details in history books. I can tell you they greatly underplayed what they did for America and the free world. What I wouldn’t give for another day with Noble and Dad – listening to the stories, and this time, asking more questions. 

The “Greatest Generation” is mostly gone now. I think it’s important we not let them, or their stories be forgotten. 

Here’s to you Uncle Noble. Thanks for everything you did for this country and being an influence in my life. It’s a debt I can never repay. 

Addendum:

• Some of this blog was extracted from a blog I did a few years ago about Dad and three of his buddies from the 9th. You can read it here if you want: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2016/06/17/dad-deason-boggs-and-noble/
• I relied on the book, “Eight Stars to Victory, A History of the Veteran Ninth U.S. Infantry Division”, published in 1948, as background for much of the factual information in this blog. 

Eric

On a beautiful sunny day, sixteen of us attended the funeral of our brother, Eric Franks. The service was perhaps, more poignant, as it was the Friday before Memorial Day. It’s always bittersweet when members of the West Point Proud and Great class of ‘78 gather and say goodbye to a classmate. 

At our 45th class reunion last fall, we held a memorial service for the 82 classmates who have passed away. This year, since January, at least ten additional classmates have died. The rate of our passing seems to have increased, but I suppose we are at that age. The youngest of us is 67.  The oldest, maybe 71. 

For those who pass away, a contingent of classmates typically attends the funeral services. Depending on when and where it is, there might be only one or two of us able to make it, or as at Eric’s, as many as 16 or more. It’s not only a last chance to honor a brother, but also an opportunity to spend time with each other and catch up in person. The sands drop through the hourglass more quickly these days and I think we all know it. Bittersweet indeed.

And so it was with Eric. Over the years, Cath and I saw Eric and his wife Robin at various reunions, or mini-reunions. The past few years, we also met them, along with our classmate Gus Hellzen and his wife Janice for an occasional beer or lunch on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. All three couples were married over 45 years ago in the weeks after our June, 1978 graduation. Our wives also made the journey through West Point and the Army.

B-3 Company-Mates and Wives at a Class Mini Reunion in 2022: Hellzens, Wells, Franks, Halls and Powells.

At the service, most classmates in attendance were from the MidAtlantic region, but some flew in from Alabama and Florida among other places. Classmate Brad Andrews, a close friend of Eric’s was one of two speakers giving a eulogy. He told stories of Eric from our cadet days and his time in the Army, including Panama. He talked about Eric becoming a renowned and pioneering Orthopedic Surgeon and the impact he had both on his patients and on other doctors. He also spoke of Eric having cancer and how it didn’t slow him down, even at the end of his life. At the end of his talk, he called the attending West Point graduates to attention and we rendered a final hand salute to Eric. 

After the service, we gathered outside the church and a group photo was taken, something that has become a tradition at funerals, but also other times when some of us gather together to celebrate life and each other. The photos are usually posted to our class Facebook Page, or our email server. “Yes,” we seem to say, “we are still alive, celebrating our brother, each other and The Long Grey Line. Grip Hands.” At funerals in particular, the phrase “Grip Hands”, from the song The Corps* is more real and more important. 

Class of 1978 at Dr. Eric Franks funeral in Salisbury, MD. L-R: Charlie Bartolotta, Max Hall, Bond Wells, Bob Rush, Craig College, Kevin MacCaffery, Kevin Beam, Bob Maszarose, Charlie Dixon, Adolf Ernst, Brad Andrews, Jack Paul, Hank Gillen, Chris Maxfield, Gus Hellzen & Jim Galloway.

Most of us eventually made our way to Robin and Eric’s home for lunch and libation. It was a lively time, with more laughter than tears as far as I could tell. We met with family and friends of Eric from throughout his life. At one point, Gus poured small glasses of WhistlePig** for all who wished to join us in a toast – “To Eric – Grip hands and be thou at peace. Proud & Great ‘78! Here’s to Eric.”   And then, echoing from our formal events in the military (in an Army that was still mostly male in our early days), his second toast, “To the ladies!”

Eventually Cath and I said our goodbyes and left for the drive home. Along the way, we talked of the day and what a fine tribute to Eric it was.

During the drive, I also thought of some of the words Brad used in his eulogy for Eric. He quoted Samual Johnson, saying “To my question, as to whether we might fortify our minds for the approach of death, he answered in a passion, ‘No, Sir, let it alone. It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives. The act of dying is not of importance, it lasts so short a time.’ “

Our hearts are with Robin, their children Erica and Ricky, and with their families. Here’s to you Eric – You led a life worth living. Be Thou at Peace.

Eric and Robin

Addendum:

• Here are the words to “The Corps”:

• WhistlePig Rye Whiskey holds a special place with our class. If you want to learn why, you can read more here – We were on a mission to the WhistlePig Distillery in Vermont. Twelve classmates gathered to taste whiskey from five barrels. We would select two for the West Point Proud and Great, Class of ‘78 45th reunion this coming fall. We didn’t want to let our classmates down […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2023/05/09/__trashed-2/
• Thanks to Gus Hellzen for the photo of Eric and Robin at the start of this blog. Thanks to Cathy for the photo of classmates at Eric’s service.

Dear God,

Dear God, I ask that you guide me, so I do not become a bitter old man. There are so many of them these days. Angry at women, angry at youth, angry at our country, angry at you. Their’s is a seemingly endless list. Often, they appear angry at everything except themselves. Do not let me become that person.

God, I know in our youth, we laughed at angry old men. We didn’t see us becoming them, and yet so many have. They look back with fondness to the “good old days”. I look back, and I’m not sure I see the good times they long for. Which years are they talking about? The depression in the ‘30s? The 400,000 American Soldiers or 75 million who died during WWII? The Korean War, threat of nuclear escalation and racial segregation of the ‘50s? Vietnam along with the racial and civil strife during the ‘60s and ‘70s? The market crashes in ‘87, 2000, ‘07 and 2020? September 11th, 2001? Our recent decades of war in Iraq and Afghanistan?

Lord, I know the world isn’t perfect. We all have problems in our lives. I have problems in my life. Still, I try to see the passing beauty and goodness of each and every day. Why do others choose not to see this? A sunrise or sunset … Flowers … A flock of birds passing overhead … A playful pet … The sounds of nature … The crack of a bat at a baseball game …. There are so many things to be thankful for.

Instead, their hatred, frustration and self-censorship consume their minds, allowing no other sights or sounds to enter. Indeed, my own voice must sound like a clanging bell or siren to them, not penetrating their consciousness, only infuriating them all the more.

God, why do we now have a nation of Howard Beales*, old men who are mad as hell, and aren’t going to take it anymore? Are they not aware Howard was not only “mad as hell”, but also just plain mad? It was network TV for Howard. For the madmen of today, we see it not only on TV, but in their Facebook posts, tweets, messages and email exchanges with those of us who were their friends.

Thank you for listening Lord. I know you are busy. Please help and guide me. Allow me to keep balance in my life. Maybe you could also shine a little light for others as well. Help them also regain some balance. As I learned from the Cadet Prayer years ago, “Kindle our hearts in fellowship with those of a cheerful countenance, and soften our hearts with sympathy for those who sorrow and suffer.”

I ask this in your name,

Amen.

Addendum:

• * For those of you who don’t recall Howard Beale, here’ a link to the key scene in the movie, “Network”, which was released in 1976 (according to at least some people, part of the good old days). Mad Mr Beale takes to the air waves and, well you can see for yourself here if you’ve forgotten the scene https://youtu.be/GFzlm9wQ4MI
• The photo at the top of the blog is from “Praying Hands”, a pen-and-ink drawing by the German painter and theorist Albrecht Dürer. Completed in 1508, Wikipedia says it is “the most widely reproduced depiction of prayer in the Western World”.

EYES … RIGHT!

Every once in a while, something happens, or somebody does something that makes the idea of “The Long Gray Line” real to us West Point graduates. Sometimes it’s an event affecting the world. Sometimes it’s a death. Sometimes it’s only something small. One of those small things happened at our recent 45th class reunion.

A month or so ago, we had our West Point 45th reunion*. It was a wonderful long-weekend seeing the Academy and more importantly, catching up with classmates. A few days after the reunion some of my classmates were exchanging stories online, when one of them asked if anyone else noticed during the parade honoring our class, one cadet staff element maintained “Eyes Right” as they passed our entire class.

• A side note for those who have not served in the military. Everyone knows what a salute is, from one soldier to a more senior officer, or soldiers saluting the flag as it passes, or is raised or lowered. When there is a parade in the military, as a unit marches past the reviewing stand while carrying their weapons, it’s impractical/impossible for the unit to salute, or present arms to the reviewing party. Instead, the commander calls out the command, “EYES…RIGHT!”, and the entire unit, except for the file of troops on the right side of the unit, turns their head at a 45 degree angle and looks at (salutes/honors) the reviewing party as they march past (the right-hand file of troops continues to look straight ahead, ensuring the unit remains on the line of march). Once the entire unit is past the reviewing party, the command “READY…FRONT!” is given and the soldiers snap their heads back to the front. This is a form of saluting (honoring) the reviewing party while on the march.

Back to the story…

During our reunion, a Saturday morning parade was held in our honor. There were about 300 or so of us who dutifully lined up to the right of the reviewing party, which consisted of the Academy Superintendent, his Command Sergeant Major, the Commander of the 7th Infantry Division, and his Command Sergeant Major. Two of the four Cadet Regiments (eighteen companies total) took part in the review. After Ruffles and Flourishes and the Star Spangled Banner played, the command “PASS…IN REVIEW!” was given and Corp of Cadets began their march past the reviewing party and then our class.

Proud and Great ‘78, Lined up for the Parade Review

By happenstance, I was near the front and left side of our class line, fairly close to where the reviewing party was. We could hear the various staff elements and companies give the command EYES RIGHT as they arrived in front of the reviewing party. Then, after the staff element or company passed completely by the reviewing party, the subsequent READY FRONT command was given. Coincidentally, the READY FRONT command was given just before or after where I was standing, depending on the timing of each commander.

My buddies, Steve, Jay, Gus and I all noticed they were doing EYES RIGHT only for the reviewing party. Someone may have even joked about us not being salute worthy, but someone else pointed out it would be pretty tough, and almost impractical to carry an EYES RIGHT for the entire length of our class, spread out over perhaps forty or fifty yards.

Cadets Passing By Us, Already at the READY FRONT

Eventually the parade ended and after pictures, we headed off for lunch and the football game, and no one thought anymore about the parade.

Well, almost no one.

Joe Mislinski and a few other classmates who were at the end of our class in the reviewing line noticed one staff element held their EYES RIGHT the entire time. It was only after they passed the last member of our class that the commander gave the READY FRONT command. Joe was intrigued and got to work trying to find out who this particular commander was.

One Staff Element Held Their Salute Until They Passed our Entire Class

Another one of our classmates, Bob Greenwalt, videoed the entire parade. Joe watched the video and eventually was able to determine the staff element who retained their salute was the commander and staff of the 2nd Battalion, 2nd Regiment. Through a chain of several cadets Joe knows, he was able to track down the 2nd Battalion Commander. It turns out, he was out that day and the cadet in charge for the parade was Cadet Lieutenant Paul Conroy, class of ‘24. Joe wrote him an email asking if he indeed was the commander for the parade that day and if so, thanked him – “I’m sure you thought it was a small thing to do, to honor us in that way, but it really meant a lot. Thank you, it really warmed our hearts. Grip Hands!”

Cadet Lieutenant Conroy and the 2nd Bn, 2nd Reg Staff holding Their Salute

A bit later, the reply came back from Cadet Conroy – “As the stand-in for the commander, I was responsible for giving the commands “Eyes Right” for my staff to salute and “Ready, Front” for them to drop it. I admit my gesture was not premeditated; it just did not seem right to order my staff to drop their salutes until we had passed all the officers, current or retired, who had served our Army. I waited to call “Ready, Front” until myself and my staff had passed the class line. I could not look behind me, but I assume my entire staff held their salutes as well.”

Cadet Conroy’s Reply

After another exchange or two, Joe and Cadet Conroy arranged to link up in person at the upcoming Army Navy Game. Unknown to Cadet Conroy, Joe had a small gift for him and the Battalion staff.

Finally, it was the day of the Army Navy game. If you ever get the chance to go to one, I urge you to do so – it’s a day of pageantry – Cadet and Midshipman march-ons, flyovers, parachute drops, and of course the game itself. No, they aren’t Michigan, Texas, Alabama or Washington vying for the National Title. But that’s OK. These two teams – the passion, the emotion, the rivalry, the ties that bind these two schools. Yes, Michigan and Ohio State have a great rivalry. But when the Army Navy game is over, and the players graduate, these men and women take on joint duties and responsibilities, risking their lives for this great nation.

West Point March-On at Gillette Stadium in Foxboro, MA.

During the game, Joe and Paul texted and arranged a location to link up at the end of the first half. The score was 10-0 Army at halftime when classmates Joe, Paul Chang and Jeff Foley made their way to the bowels of the stadium where they met with Paul, and two of the members from the Battalion Staff – Firstie (Senior) Allen Liu and Cow (Junior) Timothy Jolicoeur. Tim is who originally caught the eye of many of my classmates as he is the one in the photo holding the hand salute the entire time. Three of the cadets, Justus Gabriel, Jake Pinuelas and Wesley Anderson couldn’t make the meeting. Wesley is on the West Point Marathon team and was one of the cadets who ran a game ball from West Point to Gillette Stadium.

As my classmates spoke with the cadets, Joe mentoned how he, Jeff and Paul were there on behalf of our entire class. They gave each of the cadets a Class of ‘78 coin. “Coining” is something done in the military (and some other government organizations). When you “coin” someone outside your unit, it is considered an honor and is because they have done something of value or importance to the unit. The way it’s done is in the form of a handshake. The coining party holds the coin in their right hand and extends the hand for the handshake. The parties shake hands and the receiving party takes the coin after the handshake. For West Pointers, it’s particularly meaningful because of lines from one of our most treasured songs, “The Corps” and the act of “gripping hands”.

The Cadets were surprised and happy. My classmates discussed how meaningful their gesture was for us as a class and how many of us noticed it and remarked to each other about it. They let them know there was chatter about it on our class Facebook page and the class unanimously agreed it was a great idea to do this meetup and present them with the coins.

Class of ‘78 45th Reunion Coin.

There was a bit more small talk, and then all headed back to their respective seats for what turned out to be an exciting second half. If you didn’t see the game, Army won 17-11 after stopping Navy on the one yard line with three seconds left in the game. These games are always thrilling and you shouldn’t leave your seat until they are over. Army has won six of the last eight games between the two Academies. Their margin of victory in those six wins? 36 points. Total.

Chang ’78, Jolicoeur ’25, Mislinski ’78, Conroy ’24, Liu ’24, Foley ’78

So that’s the story. Cadet Lieutenant Conroy will graduate from the Academy in another six months and join The Long Gray Line. “The Long Gray Line” is often talked about in the abstract, but every once in a while, you experience something that makes it real and personal. In the future, I’m guessing if Paul Conroy runs into a member of our class in a bar or restaurant, or some other place in this far-flung world of ours, his money will be no good. Sometimes it’s the little things that make a difference and you notice. The Class of ‘78 noticed on this occasion.

Thanks to you Paul Conroy, and the 2nd Battalion, 2nd Regimental Staff for going out of your way recognizing the Proud and Great Class of ’78. We wish you good luck and Godspeed on your journey with the Army and throughout your life.

Addendum:

• In a side note, classmate Paul Chang has an interesting connection to Paul Conroy – “Paul Conroy and my youngest son were classmates at the same grade school in San Antonio (Keystone) before we moved to Massachusetts 13 years ago! His mom and I worked together at the Med School and they lived close by. Another classmate from that grade school also went to West Point – Isabella Sullivan, who is one of two West Point Rhodes Scholars this year!”
• Credit goes to classmate Billy Harner for the photo of our class lined up for the parade. It’s used in both the lead in to the blog, and again in the text.
• Photo of the West Point march-on at the Game was provided by my good friend, Rudy Crespin, who was in attendance at the game. Rudy is a Naval Academy graduate from the Class of ‘87.
• The two photos of the Cadet Conroy and staff were extracted by Joe Mislinski from the video provided by Bob Greenwalt.
• Thanks to classmate Rick Makowski, who provided the coins for free from his merchandising company.
• Thanks to classmates Joe Mislinski and Gus Hellzen, along with my wife Cathy for providing editing assistance with this blog.
• If interested, here is a link to Bob Greenwalt’s video of the parade. There’s a bit of chatter going on throughout the video, which is also a bit cool. Cadet Conroy and staff come into view at 21:40 and it’s clear that they didn’t do a READY FRONT when everyone else did – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HMCKT8QXodE
• * Here’s a link to the blog about the reunion itself: It was raining as I left our West Point 45th reunion last Sunday. I took the longer, slower route home rather than drive Interstate 95. Tired and emotionally spent, I didn’t trust myself on a route that would have more traffic. I knew I would be thinking about West Point, the reunion and my classmates […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2023/11/01/grip-hands/

Grip Hands

It was raining as I left our West Point 45th reunion last Sunday. I took the longer, slower route home to Virginia rather than drive Interstate 95. Tired and emotionally spent, I didn’t trust myself on a route that would have more traffic. I knew I would be thinking about West Point, the reunion and my classmates.

And of course, that’s what happened. The reunion, mixed with memories of West Point and my time in the Army cycled through my brain. Was it really 45 years since we graduated? It turned out the answer was yes.

Due to health issues, Cathy didn’t make the trip (she’s OK). It was a tough choice for her not to go to this reunion, but it was the right decision. Having dated since high school, and marrying each other right after my graduation from West Point, she too made the journey through my time at the Academy and in the Army. We’ve known many of these folk for nearly fifty years and together we have attended every reunion since the fifteenth. If I were to pass away, she would be welcomed with open arms by my classmates at any event, and they would help her in any way they could.

On October 25th, the day before the official start of our reunion, someone noted online the conditions were a bit nicer than 40 years previously on the same date. That was the day Operation Urgent Fury, the United States intervention in Grenada began at dawn. Several members of our class* were in the 82D Airborne Division and a part of the operation. It was a reminder that although we were “Cold Warriors” against the Russians, many of our classmates spent time in combat around the globe.

CPT Marion Seaton in Grenada. “We Were Soldiers Once, and Young”.

I arrived early Thursday afternoon and the weekend passed in a blur. The reunion hotel was a little over an hour from West Point. With 500+ attendees, there are no hotels at West Point or in the immediate vicinity large enough to host a gathering of our class. As is always the case at these five year reunions, not unlike our days at West Point, they are jammed with activities. We joke about it of course, but it’s true. I’m doubtful many other college reunions have days starting at 6:45AM. ;-).

After arriving, I found Tony Matos, who had just arrived from New Hampshire. As importantly, Tony brought the 312 bottles of WhistlePig Whiskey we were going to distribute to classmates. Regular readers of this blog will recall that a group of us did a tasting at WhistlePig in Vermont last spring and bought two barrels (you can read about that tasting and why we did it at the link in the addendum). We dutifully transported the cases of whiskey to our distribution room and classmates started picking up their bottles. All were gone by Sunday morning.

The Successful Conclusion of Operation WhistlePig.

By Thursday night, things were in full swing. Around 300 classmates (about one third of our living class members) along with 250+ spouses, partners and family members were there. Dinner, drinks, and for some of us, cigars ensued. My time was divided between dinner with several of my company mates and then circling the rooms seeking out other old friends. Handshakes, hugs and toasts, along with conversations occurred several times – How are you? … Where’s Cathy – is she OK? … Do you remember … whatever happened to … where are you now … we have to do better at staying in touch … Eventually I made my way to bed and a restless night’s sleep.

On Friday morning, we boarded buses for West Point. Our destination was the Cadet Chapel. Our first event, and for me one that has grown increasingly important, was a memorial service honoring classmates who have passed away. At our fortieth reunion, 50 classmates were so honored. This time the number was 82, including my company mate Dan Zimmerman. At the fortieth reunion, Dan sat with Cathy and I at the memorial service. This time, his name was one of the 82 called out loud. I thought a lot about Z-Man during the service. I have to say, the meaning of “The Long Grey Line” has changed, grown and become more real with the passage of time.

Memorial Service at the Chapel.

After the service, my buddies Jay, Steve and I, along with many of our classmates, walked the half mile from the Chapel to Ike Hall, although I also noticed there were more classmates taking the provided buses. Age catches up with all of us at some point. At Ike Hall we had lunch, along with a class meeting and a presentation by the Supe (Superintendent), before eventually busing back to the hotel.

At the hotel, Tony, Gus, Bob, Bill and I resumed distributing the remaining WhistlePig bottles. Classmate Al Aycock was distributing bags of coffee – the beans spent time in one of our empty whiskey barrels before bagging. We repeatedly received thanks from classmates for the arduous journey we’d made to Vermont for the WhistlePig tasting the previous spring. ;-).

After a short fifteen minute nap, it was time to get ready for the formal dinner that evening. More good food, drinking, talking and dancing. Perhaps because this was day two, things were slightly slower than the night before. It wasn’t as rushed and more faces were familiar now.

Random Pictures From the Weekend.

Saturday morning came early. We boarded buses for West Point at, wait for it … 6:45AM. Yes, you read that right, 6:45 in the morning. It was for a good reason – Two regiments of the Corps of Cadets were having a parade at 9:00AM, and our entire class was a part of the reviewing party. I remember as a cadet having parades and passing in review for old grads during their reunions. To put things in perspective, in the fall of 1977 our Firstie (Senior) year, the class celebrating their 45th reunion was the Class of 1932. Yikes! Back then, while waiting to pass in review, we made jokes about the OLD GRADS and of course could never see ourselves on the other side of the parade ground in the future. I’m sure the same thing was happening on this Saturday, but I have to say they looked squared away when they marched past us.

The Corps of Cadets, Passing in Review.

The Army football game that afternoon was a forgettable loss, but something happened later that left a strong impression on me. After the game, Clem, one of my company mates and his wife Nancy hosted a post-game tailgate and several of us B3ers stopped by for a beer. Three Yearling (Sophomore) cadets were there as well – members of the Class of 2026. Talking with them and listening to them made me feel good about our future, and the future of this country. If they are any indication of the quality of current West Point cadets, we have nothing to worry about. The United States Army, and our Officer Corps are in good hands.

The last evening was special. There was no official event that night, and I was invited out to dinner by Jose Morales, one of the alumni from the Whistle Pig tasting in the spring. There were perhaps 18 of us at the dinner . Some I knew, some I didn’t. It didn’t matter. We were all one big happy family, talking, laughing, telling stories, eating and drinking.

One Big Happy Family at Saturday Night’s Dinner.

The next morning, I left for the drive home around 8AM. I’m not big on long goodbyes and wanted to hit the road. I spent the next six hours driving in the rain and thinking about the weekend. I wasn’t just thinking about the details of the weekend itself, as I recounted here. I was also thinking about this special brotherhood I have the great good fortune to be a member of. As time goes by, I cherish it more and more. I think we all do. It’s hard to explain to others who haven’t been a part of it.

We members of the West Point class of 1978 share a special bond that has only grown stronger with the passing of time. Yes, we still tell the old stories from cadet days, or our time in the Army, but it’s more than that. Those stories only represent the surface of our commonality. We rose to the call of Duty, Honor, Country as cadets and during our time defending this nation. Most of us have found ways to contribute to the greater good, even after our time in service to our nation ended.

As Plebes, we were required to memorize many things. Some mundane, some of no apparent use, and some that were important. One of those requirements was the song “The Corps”. As I grow older, the song’s lyrics speak to me more directly than when I was a cadet and first memorized them. We all know our time here on Earth is limited and we all need to make the most of the time we have. Grip hands indeed.

The Corps

Addendum:

• * Classmate Marion Seaton provided the photo from Grenada. In his words, “Chuck Jacoby, Brent Holmes, Dale Tatarek and I were having the time of our lives on a little spice island 40 years ago this week. We were all part of the 82nd Airborne’s mission to secure the Island of Grenada. I was the C Battery 1/320 (Airborne) Artillery Commander. We were chuted up to parachute with our equipment into Grenada. Our original plan was for the 105 howitzers to be dropped from the C141B on the first pass and we would jump on the second pass over the Drop Zone. The jump would’ve been dangerous, certainly due to the hostile fire, but more importantly, because of the dispersion of the equipment and troops onto the ground. There was a huge body of water to our left and the Ocean to our right. We would’ve lost a lot of jumpers and equipment. Lucky for us, The Rangers jumped the day before from C130s below 400 feet. They secured the Drop Zone, so we were able to fly in rather than jump. Over the course of the battle, Charlie Battery fired 152 rounds in support of the Division and Rangers.”

Marion, A Bit Before his Unit’s Jump into Grenada was Cancelled.

• Dale and Jan Hamby were in charge of this reunion overall and did a great job. While a host of people worked with and for them, our class owes them a debt for the wonderful time we enjoyed. Dale’s comments after the reunion were pretty spot on: “Personally, we are determined to do a better job staying in touch with those we were able to reconnect with this weekend. We hope you will too. The reunion reminded us how important these connections are, and life is just too short not to make them a priority. Besides that, it was so great to relive cherished memories that our kids don’t want to hear about for the 50th time!”
• Here’s the blog from our whiskey tasting at WhistlePig: “We were on a mission to the WhistlePig Distillery in Vermont. Twelve classmates gathered to taste whiskey from five barrels. We would select two for the West Point Proud and Great, Class of ‘78 45th reunion this coming fall. We didn’t want to let our classmates down” […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2023/05/09/__trashed-2/

Two Answers for Bruce

After first hearing the questions asked in 1976, I have two answers for Mr Springsteen – Yes, love is wild, and yes, love is real. September 29th of this year, Bruce was to play here in DC at Nats Park. Although I’ve previously seen him four times, we couldn’t make this show.

When I was a cadet at West Point, there was a group called the Dialectic Society that brought numerous acts to perform at Eisenhower Hall, which had an intimate setting and great acoustics. Peter Frampton, Seals & Croft, Linda Ronstadt, The Pointer Sisters, KC & the Sunshine Band, Kenny Loggins, America, James Taylor (actually substituting for Carly Simon), The J Geils Band, Kool and the Gang, Mountain, Sha Na Na, Tommy James and the Shondells, the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band – they and many others all appeared there.

Bruce Springsteen appeared on May 27th, 1976 at West Point. This was during a mini–East Coast tour, after the Born to Run tour in 1975/76. It’s funny, I remember the show, but don’t remember being blown away by him. The music was good, and of course the “Born to Run” album was great, but hey, it was only one album. No one knew at the time he would still be around almost 50 years later.

Bruce at West Point, Along with the Set List.

Years went by and I bought the albums “Nebraska” and “Born in the USA” when they came out, but that was probably the extent of my Springsteen fix at the time. That changed on July 12th, 1988 in Frankfort, Germany. Cath and I, along with several others, took the train from Worms to Frankfort for the show. He was doing the “Tunnel of Love” tour at the time.

Unlike the show at West Point, this time I was blown away. He played for hours – 3 1/2 I think. The show was amazing and went on forever. New songs, classics and everything in between. The show went so long we actually had to leave during the second encore in order to catch the last train to Worms for the night. I remember hearing “Thunder Road” OUTSIDE the stadium as we were walking to the train station.

After returning to the States, Cath and I saw him two more times. Once in ‘92 at the Cap Center for the Human Touch tour, and another time in downtown DC in the late ‘90s. Both shows, as with Frankfort were long – again over 3 hours. NOBODY did three hour shows.

Springsteen’s music is great of course, but what draws me to him are his lyrics. He’s a wordsmith and knows how to tell a story. “Born to Run”, “The River” (Maybe my favorite Springsteen song), “Born in the USA”, “One Step Up”, “Dancing in the Dark”, “Glory Days”… you really need to listen to the words to see the pictures they paint. While the music may sound cheerful, the words often aren’t. I always chuckle at the people who love “Born in the USA”, but don’t really understand the story the lyrics are telling.

Bruce and John Mellencamp a Couple of Years ago. Note Bruce Sporting a West Point Athletic T-Shirt From his Performance at West Point.*

Years after the original version of “Born to Run”, Bruce did an acoustic interpretation. Slowing it down gave the song a whole new meaning. You can feel the weariness settling in. Maybe at that point he too knew the answer to the questions about love and whether it was wild or real for himself, but didn’t really like the answers.

The tour this year generated controversy with ticket policies and pricing. Springsteen’s comments at the time didn’t really help him. Having said that, it’s not why we are missing this show. We have too much going on these days, AND it’s been a while since I’ve seen any stadium rock concert. Sometime in the future? Maybe. In the meantime, I’ll continue to listen to his music at home and ponder the stories he tells, and the questions he asks.

Addendum:

• * My friend, Donna Matturro McALeer, West Point class of 1987, first noticed the photo of Springsteen in the West Point athletic shirt. It was a couple of years ago when he was working with John Mellencamp. She did some research and it turns out there were two Bozeks (brothers) in the class of ‘79. It would have been the end of their Plebe year when Bruce played West Point. She checked in with Greg Bozek in Sept ‘21 when the photo first appeared. He had no idea how Bruce may have ended up with the shirt. Interestingly, Greg and the boss share the same birthday.

• Note: In September, Bruce Springsteen and The E Street Band postponed all performances scheduled for the remainder of the year. He is being treated for symptoms of peptic ulcer disease and the decision of his medical advisors is that out of caution, he should postpone the remainder of his shows this year.

Illinois Militia – 1984

In 1984, Cath and I were back home in Ottawa for her 10-year high school reunion. I was waiting in line for a drink when a guy approached me. “Hey, aren’t you Max Hall? Didn’t you go to West Point?” I answered, “I am and I did. Why do you ask?” “I’m Joe xxx. We would love to have you come talk with our local militia.” What?

I was a Captain in the Army at the time and had recently returned from four and a half years in Germany with 3ID and VII Corps. Cath and I were stationed in Ohio and returned to Ottawa for the weekend of the reunion.

Me, About the Time of the Encounter – 1984 or ‘85.

Me: “Sure. Where’s the National Guard meeting these days, and what kind of unit is it?”

Joe: “Oh no. We aren’t with the National Guard. We started a private group as a militia. We fire our guns on weekends and do some tactical training. We want to be ready to fight the communists.”

Me:

Joe: “It would be great if you came out to meet with us and give us a talk. I think you could provide some real inspiration!”

Me: “Really?! Where do you all meet?”

He gives me a location south of town in the country.

Me: “Hmmmm. That’s great, but rather than meet there, I think we should meet on LaSalle Street, not far from Bianchi’s Pizza.”

Joe: “Really? Why there?”

Me: “We could go the Army recruiter’s office on LaSalle Street and get you guys signed up. We are always looking for a few good men!”

Joe: “What?!”

Me: “We could meet at the Army recruiter’s office. We are always looking for a few good men to enlist. If you really want to fight the communists, we could use you. I’ll be deploying back to Germany in a year. We could probably even work it out for you to join my unit!”

Joe:

Me: “That’s what I thought. See you later and quit bothering me… Bartender – I’ll have a gin and tonic please.”

Yep. Those militia toy-soldiers who always say they are going to defend our country were around 40 years ago as well. They are still eager to play soldier these days, as long as they don’t have to do anything to, you know, actually defend our country as a soldier.

*** Feel free to share this blog. ***

Addendum:

• I don’t recall Joe’s actual name. I just remember that he was in Cathy’s class and I knew him some from high school.

Returning Home from Germany

In June of ‘83, I returned to America after serving 4 1/2 years with the Army in Germany. At the time, the Post-Vietnam dislike of soldiers was still alive, a decade after the war. Returning to the States, I had a good experience at the airport that still gives me shivers today.

Captain Hall in Early 1983. Commander, HHC, 34th Signal Battalion.

It’s different now and we as a country, or at least most of us, have learned to separate politics from the people serving in uniform. Back then? Post-Vietnam? We weren’t so great about how we treated our soldiers. I remember someone spitting at me as a cadet while walking in New York City in the mid-‘70s. In 1979, right before we first deployed to Germany, a woman from our church commented to my mom about how terrible it was that they as taxpayers had to pay for Cathy to go to Germany with me, and for us to be able to take some of our belongings with us. AND this was a woman from our church I’d know since I was a child.

Of course most family friends, and our close friends were great with us, but past that? Things were often ambiguous. None of this was as bad as soldiers put up with during Vietnam, but it would be years later before we (as a country) really learned to separate politics and our respect for our soldiers.

In June of ‘83, I turned over my Company Command in Stuttgart, Germany. I had a couple of weeks of additional work I needed to do, so Cathy flew back ahead of me. Finally it was time for me to go home and I flew on a commercial flight wearing civies. We landed at Dulles and I made my way to customs where the line seemed about a mile long. Several flights arrived at the same time, and the line wasn’t moving.

As I stood there, I noticed a young lady walking down the line looking at people in the line. Eventually she arrived in front of me and said “Are you in the Armed Forces?” I’m sure my short haircut and bearing probably gave me away.

I answered “Yes ma’am, the Army.” and she said “Follow me.”

I walked with her for quite awhile and we finally arrived at the front of the customs line. One of the stations opened up and she walked me over to it. The guy behind the counter looked at me and asked for my passport, or my military ID and orders, which I produced for him. He took a quick look, handed my papers back to me and then said, “Thank you for your service. Welcome home to the United States of America.”

I still get a shiver typing those words today. It was the first time someone went out of their way to thank me for what I was doing, and then welcomed me home to boot. It was such a little thing, but plainly had a huge impact on me. I remember it clear as a bell forty years later.

I’ve thought about this story lately. Probably since Panama in ‘89, and certainly since the First Gulf War, we’ve thanked our soldiers and shown respect for them. Unfortunately, an annual poll conducted last November by the Reagan Institute shows respect for the military dropping from 70% in 2017 to 48% in 2022. Much of the drop was attributed to people (from both sides) trying to politicize the military, or what the military was doing.

To be quite frank, most people today have no connection with our armed forces. Their sons and daughters aren’t in our military. If fact, over 70% of American youth today aren’t qualified for the military. They are overweight, or are doing illegal drugs, or are doing legal drugs that make them ineligible for military service. I fear that for many, saying thank-you is a cheap and easy way to feel good, while not really caring about our troops. Maybe I have that wrong, but I’m not so sure.

As time progresses, I’m hoping we as a nation can adult enough to remember to mentally separate politics and the soldiers serving in the military. I hope that we can take a couple of minutes to genuinely thank our troops. Not pro forma, but really thank them. We continue to owe them that much.

Addendum:

• in a side note, in the 4 1/2 years we were gone on that tour, I only made it back to the States once. That was to attend my sister Tanya’s wedding. When Roberta married the next year, we couldn’t afford another trip home. It was one of the many family events we would miss over the course of our almost 9 years overseas.
• Thanks to my wife Cathy for input to parts of this blog. As an Army wife, she too remembers those days. Like me, she is also concerned about the lack of connectivity between our society and our military today.

A “The Corps Has” Old Fashioned

The Corps Has… Every West Pointer knows the phrase. When we were Cadets, we laughed at it, and thought it untrue. As Old Grads, many of us use it, and believe it is true. “The Corps Has”, short for “The Corps has gone to hell” is a grad’s way of saying “Things aren’t as tough now, as when I was a cadet.”

The academy was founded in 1802 and is the oldest of the United States’ five service academies. The phrase “The Corps Has” has no doubt been around since 1803. Every class, once they graduate, seems to think those after it have it easier.

A friend from the class of ‘64 reminds me regularly (half in jest, but only half) that as Plebes, they stayed at the Academy their whole first year, and couldn’t go home for Christmas break like we did.

Friends from my Class of ‘78 regularly bemoan the fact that current cadets no longer have meal formations three times a day like we did.

I think you get the drift. And that doesn’t even get into how the whole Plebe System has changed over the years. The Corps has gone to hell. Although for as long as it’s been going to hell, you’d think we’d logged enough miles to get to hell and back by now. ;-).

With the Passage of Time, Some of Our Memories Get a Little Hazy.

Recently, on June 26th, ‘23, the class of 2027 had their first day at West Point, more commonly known as “R” Day (Reception Day). That evening, I posted a picture of a whiskey Old Fashioned I was drinking on our class Facebook page and offered a toast to the class of ‘27. They will graduate 49 years after we did. I don’t care how much easier it may have become; one thing I know for sure is you never forget your first day at West Point. It may become blurry, but you won’t forget it. Ever.

In the comments to the post, one of my classmates, Joe Mooney, brilliantly suggested having a “The Corps Has” Old Fashioned, by using WhistlePig whiskey in it. Our Classmate, Dave Pickerel, was one of the founders and the Master Distiller at WhistlePig Distillery. I started thinking about it. How would I make/what would go into a “The Corps Has” Old Fashioned?

After some additional thought and a few practice rounds, here’s my version, with explanation, of a “The Corps Has” Old Fashioned*.

Simple Ingredients for a Good Drink

Ingredients

• 1 Sugar cube
• 2-3 Dashes of Smoked Cherry Bitters
• 1 Teaspoon warm water
• 2 ounces WhistlePig PiggyBack Rye Whiskey
• Large ice cube or ball of ice
• Small piece of Orange peel
• And, you will need matches or a lighter

Instructions

1. Add a sugar cube to a rocks glass. These days, most recipes for an Old Fashioned start with a teaspoon of simple syrup. To hell with that. Since we are Old Corps, we are going to start the way the original Old Fashioned started – with a sugar cube.

2. Shake 2 or 3 dashes of the Smoked Cherry Bitters** onto the sugar cube. Why Smoked Cherry instead of the Angostura Bitters called for in the original Old Fashioned? The Smoked Cherry Bitters add just a bit of haze to the drink. Sort of like the haziness of our memories of West Point. (If you can’t find Smoked Cherry bitters, look for another smoked bitters, or use regular Angostura.)

3. Add the Teaspoon of warm water to the glass. Muddle the sugar cube until it dissolves in the bitters and water (TA-DA! No simple syrup needed. 😉 )

4. Add the Rye and stir. Why WhistlePig PiggyBack Rye? First, as I previously mentioned, our deceased Classmate, Dave Pickerel, after a stint as the master distiller at Makers Mark, was one of the founders and the master distiller at WhistlePig. Every bottle of PiggyBack actually has his birth and death years on the neck of the bottle (1956-2018). Also, it’s Rye, not bourbon. Rye is spicier than bourbon, which is generally sweeter. While there were some sweet times at West Point, I’d have to say overall the experience was more on the complex and spicy side. It certainly wasn’t for everyone.

5. Add the ice. Stir until chilled.

6. Use a lighter or a match to singe the orange peel a bit (note, I said singe, not burn). Express the orange peel over the glass and then drop it in. Stir a few more times. Why singe the orange peel? It adds a little smokiness to the peel when you express it. It doesn’t change the drink…much. But somewhere in the background it adds a touch of something you can’t quite place, but think you remember. Not unlike that first summer at Beast Barracks, the memory of which seems clear and hazy at the same time.

7. Raise your glass in remembrance of our fallen classmates and toast the Corps of Cadets.

Ah, Yes. A Very Good “The Corps Has” Old Fashioned.

The Corps Has? No, not really. Every year young men and women report to West Point at the start of summer. I suspect those four years always have been and always will be a challenge. The demands and tests evolve, but are always there. Thank God there are still those today who answer the call.

Addendum:

• * You might ask why I selected an Old Fashioned as the starting point/base for the drink. Well, the Old Fashioned is the granddaddy of all cocktails and as with many cocktails, the history is a little muddled. Cocktails were first mentioned around 1805 and generally consisted of some combination of alcohol, bitters, sugar and water. At the time, the alcohol was probably whiskey, gin, brandy or rum. As the 19th century was coming to an end, people started adding other things to their cocktails – fruit, fruit juice, soda water, or tonic as examples. This increased the number of people drinking cocktails, but irritated some of the people who had been drinking them for for a while. They wanted the “old fashioned cocktails”, not the new fangled stuff. Sometime around 1890, the Whiskey Old Fashioned became the first named cocktail. It may or may not have been invented by Colonel James E. Pepper at the The Pendennis Club in Louisville, KY, before he allegedly brought the cocktail to the Waldorf-Astoria hotel bar in New York City. Since West Point is the senior service academy, it seemed right to use the oldest known cocktail as the base for the drink.
• ** You can probably find smoked or spiced cherry (or smoked orange) bitters online, or at your local liquor/wine store. If you want a treat, try ordering them online from Artemisia, a local farm here in Virginia. In addition to growing vegetables, they make several unique bitters and herbal wines (similar to vermouth, but better). They are currently sold out, but should have them again in about a week. Their link is: https://www.artemisia.farm/ For those who live in Northern Virginia, you can also find them at The Whole Ox, in Marshall, Va.
• Thanks to classmate Joe Mooney for coming up with the idea for a “The Corps Has” Old Fashioned with WhistlePig. It was a great idea.
• Thanks to classmates Joe Mooney and Bill Moeller for reviewing this blog and suggesting some ideas.
• Our West Point Class of ‘78 45th class reunion is coming up this fall. Here’s the story of us selecting two barrels of WhistlePig PiggyBack Whiskey for sale at the reunion (all bottles already sold out) – – – We were on a mission to the WhistlePig Distillery in Vermont. Twelve classmates gathered to taste whiskey from five barrels. We would select two for the West Point Proud and Great, Class of ‘78 45th reunion this coming fall. We didn’t […] Continue here: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2023/05/09/__trashed-2/
• There are many Old Fashioned recipes, but the basic one uses: 2 oz Bourbon or rye, a tsp of simple syrup, a couple dashes of Angostura bitters and a slice of orange peel.

Operation WhistlePig

We were on a mission to the WhistlePig Distillery in Vermont. Twelve classmates gathered to taste whiskey from five barrels. We would select two for the West Point Proud and Great, Class of ‘78 45th reunion this coming fall. We didn’t want to let any of our classmates down.

I’ve recounted the history of our classmate Dave Pickerell in a blog before*, but will briefly summarize it here, as it is fundamental to this story. The Army, in its infinite wisdom, sent Dave to grad school for a master’s degree in chemical engineering. Later, after teaching at West Point, Dave left the Army and joined Makers Mark Distillery, where he was the master distiller for 14 years. He then struck out on his own and became known as the “Johnny Appleseed” of craft distilleries, and helped many, many distilleries start-up. Eventually, he also became a founder and the master distiller for WhistlePig Whiskey, which makes some of the best rye whiskeys in the world. Dave passed away a few years ago, but his legacy lives on at nearly 100 distilleries across the country.

Dave Pickerell as a Cadet, and Then Later in Life.

A little over a year ago, our West Point Class held a mini-reunion at the Biltmore in North Carolina. On one of the evenings there, we did a whiskey tasting of several whiskeys Dave had an impact on*. The tasting was to honor Dave, and our other departed classmates. Everyone had such a good time at that event, it became the genesis of Operation WhistlePig.

We originally talked about doing a class tasting for our 45th reunion in the Fall of ‘23, but the logistics at West Point became a bit difficult. Bill Moeller then came up with the idea of purchasing a barrel of WhistlePig for the reunion. Classmate Tony Matos, who lives in New Hampshire not far from the WhistlePig Farm Distillery, became point man and started working with Mark Kanya of WhistlePig to understand the dynamics of a barrel purchase. In the meantime initial funding was lined up through classmate Jeff Manley, and a survey of classmates was completed to gauge interest. 206 classmates responded saying they were interested. A barrel of whiskey holds 156 bottles. We were on.

Of course, you don’t just buy a barrel of whiskey. Each barrel is different depending on multiple factors. WhistlePig invited “around ten of us” to a barrel tasting at the farm. We were to select “our barrel” from three different barrels we would taste from. It would then be bottled in a special release, with a small label honoring our class, and our fallen classmates. The team grew from four to six, then eventually to ten of us. In addition to Tony, Bill, Rob Grubbs and I (Rob, Bill and I organized the Biltmore tasting), José Morales, Al Aycock, Gus Hellzen, Jim Steiner, Jack Cronin and Rusty Roberts were added. Our number was set, as was our date, the 3rd of May. Reservations were made at a nearby Airbnb for May 2-4, and then it was just a matter of waiting for the big day.

Tony, who did a great job coordinating the event overall, sent an email to the Class on May 1st announcing Operation WhistlePig was about to commence. He was flooded with responses from classmates with good wishes, others wanting to immediately order a bottle, and some wanting to join us and help select the barrel. Tony graciously explained to folk why it wasn’t possible, although after checking with WhistlePig, three folk who were relatively local at the time were added for the tasting itself – Bob Rush and his wife Erica, and Ron Hall. They joined us for the tasting, but not the entire three days.

Tony’s Announcement to the Class About Operation WhistlePig.

On the second of May, we gathered. Classmates flew in or drove from Texas, Virginia, Maryland, North Carolina and Georgia. Others arrived from Vermont, New Hampshire and Maine. We included a retired Two Star, guys who departed the military not long after our initial five-year obligation, and everything in between. There were handshakes and hugs all around. Not all of us knew each other, but we were all brothers and it didn’t matter. This was going to be good.

That first evening passed in a blur, aided by some liquid lubrication. I and a couple of other guys cooked dinner the first night – Steak Tips, a New England specialty. Preparing the meal in the main house, I have to admit I felt a bit like Clemenza in the Movie “The Godfather” cooking away, with guys standing around talking and drinking. Over dinner, we didn’t solve the world’s problems, but we took a stab at a couple of them. José asked a couple of questions for which there were of course no correct answers but made us all think.

We also discussed whether we should consider buying two barrels of whiskey instead of one, in anticipation of additional sales based on Tony’s email from the 1st. Rusty immediately volunteered to lead the financing of the second barrel, and Tony quickly notified WhistlePig we were now looking at purchasing two barrels.

Dinner the First Night.

As is always the case for me at these gatherings, I’m humbled when I listen to many of the stories told – from time in the Army, in government, or in business. Stories from hotspots around the world over the years, and as I’ve said before, war stories both figuratively and literally. Beer, a couple bottles of WhistlePig, several bottles of wine and a few cigars later, most of us made our way to bed.

The next morning, Jim and crew fixed breakfast – bacon, toast and eggs to order. People were feeling surprisingly good, considering the damage we had, perhaps, done the night before. I’m sure the anticipation of the trip to WhistlePig later that morning had something to do with it. We eventually climbed into two vehicles and arrived at the WhistlePig Farm just before 11AM.

Arriving at WhistlePig.

At the farm, we were joined by Ron, Bob and Bob’s wife Erica and began a tour. Jesse Ray, accompanied by our contact Pam Spaulding, showed us key parts of the farm and distillery. Of course there were some tastings involved at various stops, including Maple Spirit (distilled maple syrup – a bit of a rum flavor), Piggyback (the 6 year old Rye that our barrel selections would also come from) and a wonderful WhistlePig 15 year old rye. I noticed that we, as a group, had become a bit louder. We grabbed a picture of us after trying the Maple Spirit – I think you can see we were off to a good start.

Smiling Classmates After the Distilled Maple Syrup Tasting

We returned to the tasting room and a wonderful lunch. The WhistlePig crew told us some great stories about Dave, some of his work, and some of his sayings. My favorite saying from Dave – “One of the great things about working at a distillery is you get to drink your mistakes.”

After lunch, we were ready to start the business at hand. First though, WhistlePig revealed a nice surprise. Since we were now considering two barrels instead of one, we would taste five samples instead of three. I believe that elicited a “Hooah!!” from the class. Mark Kanya walked us through the barrels, but didn’t reveal their proof numbers, as he didn’t want to prejudice us. Finally, it was time to taste.

Five Barrels to Taste!

What followed was a minor dose of reverence and a major dose of fun. We tasted, and tasted again. Conversations sprang up and died away. Comparisons were made by those sitting next to each other, sometimes with concurrence and sometimes with “What, are you crazy?!” Now remember there were five barrels. All were 6 years old. All came from the same rick-house. All were 100% rye. All were good. And yet, we had no problem finding differences.

Whiskey Tasting – Maybe Serious Business, or Not…

Finally, it was time to make our selections and Rob Grubbs took charge with a chalk board. Each of us came forward and wrote down our top two choices. We anticipated going a couple of rounds, but it turns out it wasn’t even close. Barrels 8516 and 8494 won, hands down.

Barrels 8516 (2) and 8494 (4) Were the Easy Winners at the Tasting!

After the official tasting, they opened the bar and we tried other WhistlePig products at our leisure. Some of us returned to the winning bottles for another taste and confirmation we’d made the right choices. A few went to the museum, while others of us stayed at the bar. There, Mark’s assistant, Amber Star, who also happens to be an opera singer, entertained us with stories and after some prodding, an amazing a cappella version of Ava Maria – it was beautiful and somehow fit the afternoon.

As we gathered together again shortly before departing, Pam read us a tribute to Dave another friend, Savannah Burnett, sent her. It was wonderful of her to share it with us. She also gave us a WhistlePig bottle signed by Dave and filled with a bit of each of the products Dave was associated with over the years. A whiskey, or spirit connoisseur, would call it an “Infinity Bottle” due to the blending of so many different whiskeys – we plan to auction it off at our 45th reunion. It should also be noted that a West Point Coin was presented by José to Mark for his excellent organization of the tasting. As a side note, should he ever be challenged by one of us in the future and he doesn’t have the coin with him, he will be required to buy a round ;-).

Pam Presenting the Class with the Dave Pickerell Signed “Infinity Bottle”.

We finally said our goodbyes to WhistlePig, and to Ron, Bob and Erica and drove back to our Airbnb. Bill cooked a salmon dinner for us and the ten of us again gathered at the table.

We were mellower than the night before but had great conversations. Yes, we told and laughed at old stories again, but we also talked about the present and the future. Over more wine, whiskey and cigars, we discussed our Class and the impact we may have had on the Army and on our country. Eventually we drifted off to our individual rooms and the night ended.

When I woke up the next morning, a couple of guys were already gone. Rob made breakfast for us and then Tony and Jim drove the rest of us to the airport. More hugs and handshakes at the airport and we parted ways. Operation WhistlePig was over … For this year.

I’ve thought about the wonderful times we had at this whiskey tasting, and at other reunions. The camaraderie, the brotherhood, the love for each other. Although we are not yet in our “twilight”, I think General Douglas McArthur summed it up pretty well at the end of his West Point Farewell Address in 1962:

“The shadows are lengthening for me. The twilight is here. My days of old have vanished — tone and tint. They have gone glimmering through the dreams of things that were. Their memory is one of wondrous beauty, watered by tears and coaxed and caressed by the smiles of yesterday. I listen then, but with thirsty ear, for the witching melody of faint bugles blowing reveille, of far drums beating the long roll. In my dreams I hear again the crash of guns, the rattle of musketry, the strange, mournful mutter of the battlefield. But in the evening of my memory always I come back to West Point. Always there echoes and re-echoes: Duty, Honor, Country…”

For this whiskey tasting get-together, maybe the echoes and re-echoes were: Duty, Honor, Country and WhistlePig as well. For my classmates who may be reading this blog, I’ll add this – Standby! A Warning Order is about to come out on how to purchase a bottle.

Addendum:

• The staff at WhistlePig was wonderful. Pam Spaulding, Jesse Ray, Mark Kenya and Amber Star took amazing care of us.
• * You can read the blog about Dave and the whiskey tasting our class did about a year ago here: When Rob asked if I would help host the whiskey tasting for the West Point Class of ‘78 mini-reunion at The Biltmore, I immediately said yes. We honored classmate Dave Pickerell, later known as The “Johnny Appleseed” of Craft Whiskey, and all of our departed classmates […] Continue at: https://mnhallblog.wordpress.com/2022/04/19/pickerell-the-biltmore-and-the-whiskey-tasting/
• “Arriving at WhistlePig” photo courtesy of Gus Hellzen.