Norman Schwarzkopf

West Point, 1956

Be Thou At Peace

Posted by John J Crawford on December 14, 2021:

Given his important contributions to US history, it is difficult for me to believe that my life intersected at all with GEN Schwarzkopf, much less the way that it happened--but indeed it did. In about 1997, I was a resident in orthopaedics at Duke, where John Feagin (USMA 1955) was on faculty as a sports shoulder surgeon. Dr. Feagin reached out to me one morning and told me that he was operating on GEN Schwarzkopf that day and wanted me to assist him as an all-USMA OR team (I am USMA 1988). It was an incredible honor for me to be able to help work on the most famous General in my lifetime. However, the joy was short-lived. GEN Schwarzkopf was admitted after surgery to the VIP section of the hospital and it fell upon me to round on him on post-op day #1 since I had assisted on the case and written the post-op orders. I rode the elevator up to the otherwise empty wing of the hospital at 0430 and as the doors to the elevator opened onto a darkened hallway, I instantly heard a hiccup. My life flashed before my eyes and I felt sudden, intense panic. Pre-operatively, I had done GEN Schwarzkopf's H&P and Mrs. Schwarzkopf had specifically and emphatically told me that GEN Schwarzkopf was allergic to morphine and that his allergy manifest as hiccups that were uncontrollable and unstoppable. I instantly recalled that fact and simultaneously realized that I had forgotten that fact when I wrote my post-op orders the day before. During my walk down the darkened hallway to his room, where I could see that his room lights were fully ablaze and spilling out into the hallway, I could hear him hiccup every few seconds. To know that the most famous American military man of my generation had suffered all night long due to a mistake that I alone was responsible for made that walk feel like something out of a horror movie. Every hiccup hit me like a hammer as I made progress towards his room. As I rounded the corner and entered the room, both GEN and Mrs. Schwarzkopf were awake, him sitting bolt upright in bed and her at his side, both clearly miserable. Upon introducing myself again, I was immediately disheartened to realize that all three of us knew that the mistake was mine. GEN Schwarzkopf was only slightly perturbed at me and let me off with the recitation of some plebe knowledge (Schofield's Definition of Discipline), but Mrs. Schwarzkopf was, as expected and earned, a bit more harsh in her assessment of my skills as a young doctor. Those hiccups were resistant to all known medicinal cures for several days, and I had the unfortunate humiliation of rounding on him twice a day during that time. Thankfully, the hiccups eventually stopped and he was discharged home. He and Mrs. Schwarzkopf by all rights should have been furious with me and unmerciful in their treatment of me, but they were resilient and they were a team and they probably could tell that I had a learned a lesson that I would never forget. You would like to think that when the unusual opportunity arises to do something great for someone who has done so much for you occurs, you will rise to the occasion and pay them back. But, it doesn't always work out as planned. And then, to have an opportunity to witness true character in that person who has every right to scream and complain about your error--well, that is a true lesson in greatness. GEN Schwarzkopf was a great man and an American hero, and I am sorry that I blew my chance to pay him back.

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