Norman Schwarzkopf

West Point, 1956

Be Thou At Peace

Posted by R Ren Hart on May 24, 2014:

We find ourselves at this moment in a location that not only holds a significant place in the history of our nation and its military, but the prodigious and awe-inspiring grounds of the United States Military Academy have also marked so many beginnings for the Schwarzkopf family. My grandfather was once a cadet here, my father followed in his footsteps graduating with the class of 1956, he returned to teach in these very halls, and my parents both met and married here. As it has been said, That which has a beginning will surely have an end...and so, befittingly, we find ourselves here at West Point again. So how exactly does the daughter of any father she loved, sit down, put pen to paper and encapsulate in words that will last a mere 10 minutes, all that was exceptional about the man she and her family have been forced to say goodbye to so prematurely. I am here to tell you it is impossible. There is so much to say, so many stories that could be shared, so much to laugh about, and even more to be proud of. After all, I can tell you that my father was one of the most multi-dimensional people I have ever known. To illustrate my point... He could be honorarily knighted at his headquarters by the Queen of England in one ceremonious moment and hours later there was nowhere he would rather be than in a pair of old blue jeans out in field somewhere, throwing a slobber-covered ball for our Labrador retriever Bear. After he retired you could find him sitting in his recliner relaxing to the music of Pavarotti or the soundtrack of Les Miserables one afternoon, he'd be on stage somewhere singing alongside Johnny Cash the next and the following morning he would be exercising on a treadmill to ABBAs greatest hits. He could be found sleeping in a tent on a family camping trip, preparing hot chocolate by melting the fresh snow that had fallen the night before, and you would find him just as comfortable and more at home there than in any of the palaces or luxurious hotels that his lifetime of international travels took him to. He was a soldier and a general, husband and father, an author, philanthropist, advocate, a jeopardy champion, an outdoorsman, here listed a great song, he was a teacher, magician, a competitor, storyteller, a fisherman, one heck of a poker player, he loved animals and they loved him, and this list could go on and on. So as you can see, a cliff notes version of H. Norman Schwarzkopf was not to be had and was an approach I tossed aside quickly. But I still struggled with how I would best speak to who my father was and do in it fewer words than Tolstoy used in writing War and Peace. And so it was that one day I remembered a conversation I had with my father shortly after he retired from the Army. I will preface the conversation by telling you that during that time there was tremendous public pressure for dad to consider political office. He consulted with the family to get our thoughts on the matter and we all gave him the same input. After a lifetime of service and having just returned to us from Operation Desert Storm...we all told him it was time to just do more fishing. So after much soul searching Dad politely declined the notion of political office, citing that he was much too straight forward and honest to be a politician and he wouldn't be any good at it anyway, then he and my mother set about the task of building their retirement home in the mountains of Telluride, Colorado. For as long as I can remember my dad would say that it was his dream to retire to a log home in the mountains somewhere and that dream was realized when my parents settled on Telluride after looking at a good number of other locations. Now my mom would confess to you that she wasn't thrilled that the closest shopping mall was more than 150 miles away but they managed a compromise somehow. I visited that home for the very first time after its completion and while sitting is the rustic living room he had decorated himself I asked my dad what made you pick Telluride and he said to me from his favorite chair next to the fireplace: Cindy, it was a place where when I walked down the streets of the town I just felt like, Norm. That conversation took place more than two decades ago but it is where I found my inspiration in preparing todays remarks. You see, while many see him as a great leader, a soldier's soldier, a general of generals, a fierce defender of America, and all of those things I too believe to be true.. the irony is those things only scratch the surface of what made H. Norman Schwarzkopf an exceptional man and human being. To be sure his military accomplishments were vast, hard earned, and have secured his name a place in the history books - but it is my sincere belief that the very reason so many members of the public felt a connection with him, admired him, wrote to him, trusted their sons and daughters, husbands and wives to him while they were under his command and hold him in high regard still today, is not exclusively because they admired the war plans, the strategies, or the rank he achieved. It is because they got a sense of the man he was, the principles he stood for, his honesty and trustworthiness, sense of humor, forthrightness, his sincerity, and his no-nonsense get it done attitude. So what were the differences between what the world got to see and what our family and those fortunate enough to be close to him knew him to be. I will tell you. Where the world remembers a general holding a long pointer towards a war-plan covered poster board...we remember an outdoorsman holding a fly fishing pole in the rivers of Alaska, a walking stick on his favorite hiking trails in Colorado, or poles on a cross country ski trek through snow covered pines in the winter. Where the troops he commanded might remember the big booming voice that dictated orders, I remember the voice I could hear cheering me on above all others during the swim team competitions of my youth. While the cadets he once taught engineering mechanics to here at West Point may remember the instructor that was stubbornly determined to not only teach them mechanics but to turn them in to good Army Officers, we remember a father who after a long hard day at work would still come home every evening to run us kids through our multiplication table flashcards and pay us 50 cents when got them all right. Where the public remembers a war hero dressed in desert camouflage or in a uniform decorated with medals and ribbons awarded for his service to our nation, we remember a father that would dress up in a clown costume (complete with funny glasses, a big fake nose and a neck tie that hung from his neck to his shins ) to perform magic tricks at our childhood birthday parties while simultaneously making balloon animals for all of our friends in attendance. Where his critics wanted to see a man of war who was unfeeling or unaffected about the life and death decisions he had to make, those close to him knew a man who inherently loathed war and the cost of war. But by God, he lived his life guided by the calling inside him that should his country ask him to go to war, and command the young men and women wearing its uniforms...then he would do all in his power to not repeat the mistakes of the past, to not let politics dictate strategy where lives were concerned, to ensure readiness, make certain we were superiorly trained, armed and supported, and then leave no stone unturned in trying to bring back home to their families every single one of those young men and women. As for those lost under his command, I assure you their names were indelibly etched in his soul. Where the world saw the strong hand of a US Army Infantryman, taunt in salute at his brow, we kids saw the hand that held ours when we took our first steps, rode our first bikes, scribbled our first words, climbed our first hills, drove our first cars and then so gracefully knew how to let go when it was time for us to have our own go at the world. As for my mother, she saw the hand of man she took in marriage (in this very chapel some 44 years ago) for better or for worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and as the vow goes, it was not until death that they parted. To our mother, Brenda, dad has seen many a tough battle in his life but none as difficult as the one he has fought this past five years. Jessica Christian and I want you to know that we are so thankful to you for the way you fought the battle alongside him every step of the way. We have never witnessed, nor do I expect we ever will again in our lifetimes, the kind of selflessness you have shown in your care, your perseverance and your commitment to dad in making sure that his every need was not only met, but met with love, tenderness, patience and above all dignity. There are no words to adequately express our thanks and we know that God most certainly has a very special set of wings on hold for you somewhere. They have been earned every bit as valiantly as the four stars dad wore across his shoulders. And just as you once helped pin those stars on his shoulders for the very first time, I know one day he will help hoist those wings on to yours. We love you mom. My father's life had all the makings of a great Hollywood epic. His friends will tell you that there were an unlimited number of stories he could tell. And with his charm, his candor, his conviction and passion he could either keep you teetering on the edge of your seat, bring a tear to your eye or double you over in laughter. But the big difference between most of those Hollywood epics and the life of my father is that at the end of most Hollywood movies the good guy lives on forever. On December 27th of 2012 we had to say goodbye to one of the good guys. So how would my dad want to be remembered? I did not have to look far or ponder long to know the answer to this question. In the days following dad's passing we were blessed with the numerous television network video montages of dad that recounted his life and career. Seeing those tributes was surprisingly healing and cathartic for our family and helped us shift from mourning our loss to celebrating the man that we were fortunate enough to know and love. It was in one of those videos that an interviewer was shown asking dad how do you think you would like to be remembered? and with a smile on his face my dad responded something to the effect of: That's easy. I would like to be remembered as a guy that loved his country, loved his troops, loved his family and they loved him...and then with a pause and a shrug of his shoulders he added Period. In life, when duty called....he was there. When his country needed him he responded. His life on earth was a life of service Duty, Honor, Country was his creed and when given any choice, no matter how significant or small doing what was right was his guide. His work was apparently done here so it is no surprise to me that he has been called to his next tour of duty. Called upon by the highest level of Commander in Chief. There must be a very important job in need of doing for dad to have been called away from us so early. Heaven knows that if there is something God has decided needs fixing, reorganizing or just wants a guy up there who will get things done....Norm Schwarzkopf is the guy for the job When I allow myself to think of dad as he might be now, I picture him very much the way I remember him in life. He is somewhere looking over all of us, making sure we are safe, his one arm is around the shoulder of a soldier, the other rested on the back of a faithful dog seated at his side, he and his parents are recounting the untold adventures of his youth, he and his fishing buddies are still talking about the one that got away...and where ever that place is.....I can assure you of this.... it is an even better place now... just for having him there. We miss you dad. Cynthia P. Schwarzkopf February 28, 2013

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