Dennis L. Chudoba

West Point, 1965

Be Thou At Peace

Posted by Bob Gates on February 20, 2011:

Hey Boda! You dumb Bohunk! You never could understand protocol. When you die, you're supposed to let everyone know at the time. That way we would all have been forced to spend thousands of hard-earned dollars just to travel to some nowhere town in Georgia for your funeral, not to mention having to make up insincere platitudes about what a wonderful person you were, so we could address them to the minions in the audience. You just never learned. I should have seen this coming way back in Plebe year when we were roommates. Like during the annual PT tests, or whatever they called them. One exercise station was Pull-ups. The requirement to get a 3.0 grade and move on was 20 reps. I'm struggling, while you, you twit, and gymnast, grab the bar, knock out the 20 reps in about 10 seconds. But, move on quietly? Oh goodness no. You have to finish the 20, then rotate over the bar into a hand stand, and follow it with somersault dismount. I remember Mr. Palone smacked you up side the head as you moved on to the next station, but that didn't suppress that "fecal inspired" little grin on your face. (Notice how I've cleaned up my language just for you?) And that "so-defined" grin became what I remember most about my roommate, jump school cohort, Ranger buddy, and best friend. At least most of the time. There were major exceptions, however, when that "so-defined" little grin wasn't very lovable. I'm thinking about when you got married, and I had to fly to Cleveland just to be your best man. So far, so good, except I had to pay my own way. But at the reception, your saintly mother, bless her, decided to ply me with liquor and then dragged me out onto the dance floor because she thought it was time I learned how to polka. Now, most people who know me will agree that I can't even march in step to a simple cadence, let alone do something that requires any degree of pedal dexterity. But around and around we went. I thought later that I was pretty d****d outstanding, but all you did was flash that "so-defined" grin. Fortunately, I was well acquainted with your family by then. We flew to Cleveland in our Yearling year for, I think, a Thanksgiving long weekend. Well, you flew anyway. We were both on stand-by for a flight, and one seat became available. You, of course, took it, and I waited patiently. So patiently that I didn't get into Cleveland until about four in the morning. Were you waiting for me? Oh goodness no. I managed to pay the cab fare to get me to your house, and then curled up on the patio, wrapped in my grey overcoat for a few hours sleep. Your mom and dad were such gracious hosts. So nice that I decided to overlook your "so-defined" grin, as I was reacquainted with your beautiful and wonderful sister, Ellie. After graduation, jump school was first on the agenda. Our pics are side-by-side in the "graduation year book" that the Benning people published for each class. Then on to Ranger school. We had to pick a "buddy" at the start. Well, neither one of us considered the other a "buddy", but we decided to go along with their little scenario. Fat lot of good that did us. Unfortunately, it was soon recognized that you and I were the only ones in our company who could spell "land navigation", let alone practice it. Thus the rise of the quintessential and unbeatable point team for every, and I do mean every, patrol. You and I were always out there, even when the patrol leader was bent over staring at his compass bearing 100 meters off in the opposite direction. "So-defined" grin time once again. All those fun days were then followed by a first assignment as infantry officers, whoop de do. From which came postings in 'Nam, hospitals, basic training centers, 'Nam, yadda yadda. Don't think they ever get all those rifle butt fragments out of your hand. And how the hell did we both call DOA to volunteer with the same unit preference but wound up in different units each time? Was I considered that much better than you? (My first and only turn for the "so-defined" grin. :) ) I really can't keep this up. First we lost Jeffcoat in a stupid plane crash, and now you, and in between so many others. Boda, we had such wonderful times together. Good and bad, but wonderful nevertheless. I am going to miss you more than anyone can imagine. I love you, you stupid Bohunk. Bg.

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