Gregory Inman Barras

West Point, 1955

Be Thou At Peace

Posted by Dave Finley on September 3, 1999:

Denny Cosca, Greg and I were roommates and close friends from Yearling year through graduation. From the time we first met, Greg was determined to fly in the Air Force. He never wavered. The venerable Senator John Stennis, Chairman of the Armed Services Committee, had appointed Greg to West Point after a military high school and, I believe, a year at VMI. I remember Greg each year writing a careful progress report to the Senator. A loyal son of Mississippi and the South, Greg complained darkly about Hudson Valley winters. A characteristic memory is Greg bundled in both b-robe and red-boy, poring over a recalcitrant German language text across our big three-way study desk in the evening. One snapshot in my album shows him puffing at one end of our room thermometer, convinced he was beset by the flu in this hostile Yankee climate. Greg was fond of the mild but explosive sounding German epithets he brought back from class. He applied them at minimal provocation, often striking terror into Plebes who missed the twinkle-eyed chuckle that always followed. I remember him as austere and private but also warm and good-humored. At a serious level, Greg was totally devoted to West Point and a future career as officer and pilot. Unlike his roommates, he never doubted his professional vocation. He had made those choices confidently quite early in life. Military bearing, discipline and decisiveness seemed second nature. During First Class year he was a stem, efficient, competent Company First Sergeant, who dispatched his considerable responsibilities with common sense and fairness. Greg always seemed to know his own mind with independent assurance, never dithered. That included choosing a car First Class spring. When most of us followed the lemmings toward Chevies and Fords, Greg held out for a dignified two-tone Olds 88. Another snapshot shows him grinning with pride in his new acquisition when the two of us drove over to Providence on weekend leave to visit a friend at Brown. I had the pleasure of escorting Greg's lovely young sister Joanne to a June Week hop. Sadly for me, after that relaxed week of family friendship and exuberant transition I never saw Greg again. After the joyous pinning on of our new gold bars, we suddenly scattered off to graduation leave with just a smile and a wave. Then it was Sill, Benning and three years in Germany for me, while Greg followed his great dream and destiny to Flight School. We exchanged Christmas cards each year, with just a few words about our different paths. Nor did I meet Mary Lu or their children except by Christmas snapshots. In the depth of our national convulsion in Vietnam, I knew vaguely that Greg was flying out of Thailand. Then came the grim news he was MIA, in ominous circumstances; and slowly my hope faded despite Mary Lu's brave optimism. Remembering Greg Barras as an earnest cadet and dedicated soldier, I think first of his uncompromising loyalty: to family, friends and colleagues; to Duty, Honor and Country. His Alma Mater had no more devoted or courageous son. He lived her motto to his core. His country, and all of us who shared some of his days, are enriched by his example and his sacrifice. Well done, old friend. Be thou at peace.

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