Posted by Les Halstead, Jr on May 19, 2008:

From Les' funeral, these are the words of the Reverend Jennifer Mills-Knutsen, Les's grandaughter. IN MEMORIAM Lt. Col. Leslie H. Halstead March 14, 1920 – May 15, 2006 Integrity. Loyalty. Uprightness. Fortitude. Perseverance. Principles. Sincerity. Truthfulness. Honesty. Leadership. Courage. Faithfulness. Seriousness. Dignity. Nobility. Respect. Respected. Earnestness. Strength. Persistence. These are words from 2 Timothy, and from Job. Words from the West Point Cadet’s Prayer. Words from conversations with all of you over the last several days, and from my own memories. And they are all words that describe my grandfather, Leslie Harrison Halstead. For many of us, these same words, not just today but always, these words evoke the image of Les Halstead, a fellow soldier, father, husband, grandfather, brother, uncle, commanding officer, and friend. There are many laudatory words to describe him, but there are three particular words that summarize his life more than any others: Duty, Honor, Country. As his son Les Jr. said, “Dad’s heart beat Duty, Honor, Country.” I have begun to wonder how old Les was when he first learned those words as the motto for West Point. Just how many of his 86 years were firmly governed by those principles? He set West Point as a goal back at Coleman Place and Ingleside Elementary Schools in Norfolk. I wonder, did that have something to do with why, even at such a young age, he took seriously his duty as the oldest brother? Kenneth tells about a day’s journey from their Fox Hall home to downtown Norfolk to catch a movie. When the movie got out, it was dark and raining, yet the two boys had a five mile walk home. Young Les took the younger Kenneth firmly by the hand and they set out together. Les reassured his frightened little brother that everything would be okay, and then made sure that it was. Already, he demonstrated a strong sense of duty, and perhaps even, after that long, uncomplaining march in the rain, an early aptitude for the infantry. After more years in school, with evenings and weekends attending to duty at his father’s drug store, he graduated from Maury High School in 1938 and tried to enlist in the Army for one year to compete for an appointment to West Point. But he was ineligible, because he had bad teeth. His perseverance took hold. Rather than giving up on his goal of attending West Point, Les enlisted for three years instead of one, and got the Army to fix his teeth. So after one year spent getting his teeth fixed, in his second year he passed his physical and was selected for the West Point Prep School. But at the end of the year, he did not rank in the top ten at the school, and thus was not eligible to compete for an appointment to West Point. But still he did not give up. His third year in the Army, he made it into the Prep School’s top ten and secured a congressional appointment to the academy. By the time he arrived at West Point, he had already absorbed the motto, “Duty, Honor, Country,” so deeply into his own identity that it was clear to everyone who knew him. So clear, in fact, that he was elected by his classmates to serve as their representative on the Honor Committee, a duty and an honor that remained important to him for the rest of his life. At least one upperclassman, however, did not understand just how seriously Les Halstead took this motto. This particular upperclassman asked the young cadet to dutifully watch over his date one weekend, when his unit was unexpectedly called out for maneuvers. And so Cadet Lieutenant Halstead took care of Miss Mabel Duquette that weekend, and as he was fond of saying, “been taking care of her ever since.” He graduated on D-Day, they were married the day after, and he shipped off to Germany the next fall to join the Fighting 69th for some of the bloodiest battles ending the Second World War. Duty, honor, country. After the war, he remained stationed in Germany, joined by Mabel and soon enough by their oldest daughter Pat. Within a few years followed Les Jr., then Helen, and eventually Harry. Now those words “duty, honor, country,” began to permeate not only his own spirit, but the life of his whole family. Not a one of the children was born within 1000 miles of the other, as the Army took the family across the globe. Though they moved from post to post and were once again separated by war, this time in Korea, Les’s principles and Mabel’s tenderness bound the family tightly together. As a father, he was firm and focused, and probably more than a little bit feared. Les was a man who had lived in serious times, and had endured serious things. It made him tough, and he sought to make his children tough as well, preparing them to endure serious things and serious times with faith and courage. But he loved each one of his children, and he was proud of them. All of them, now grown, testify to their father’s principles, his truthfulness and integrity as guideposts for their own lives. Today, facing his death, is one of those serious times, and I know that he would be proud to see the faith, courage and dignity of this gathering, the honor his family has bestowed upon him. For all his love of the Corps, for all his duty and service to his country, God and family held first priority. That’s why he retired from the Army after 25 years, to return to Virginia after his father’s death and take charge of the family’s business. It was his duty as the eldest, and so he fulfilled it with honor. He took his subsequent business endeavors in engineering and real estate as seriously as his military service, and his love of country found expression in a host of civic organizations, from Rotary to Ruritans to the Masons. It was also during these times that his duty to God, shown through the church, flourished. He and Mabel were instrumental in starting not one, but two churches—Thalia United Methodist and Wycliff Presbyterian—and though they continued to move around in their retirement years, they always found a church close to home, and Les served on many a governing board and finance committee. As his children grew up and grandchildren began to arrive, Les undertook some lighter duties—to the golf course, the crossword puzzle, and his dog Sam. Confident that he had raised four strong children into adults with lives of honor, he relaxed and revealed to them his lighter and more tender side, a part of him his wife Mabel had always known and treasured. It makes me smile today to think of him reuniting not only with family and friends who’ve gone on before, but with Sam, and Briar, and Bunny, and Ginger, and all the other four-legged friends he loved so much. As we remember Les now and in the future, we may struggle to remember the details of his military honors, the three bronze stars and Combat Infantry Badge and countless medals and ribbons. We may lose sight of his civic commendations and business citations. But the values he instilled in all of us—whether you called him brother, uncle, Dad, Papa, husband or friend—those we will never forget. From a very young age until he took his last breath, Les Halstead lived his creed: “Duty, Honor, Country.” Of him it can truly be said, “I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race. I have kept the faith.” And now he enjoys the crown of righteousness that God has bestowed upon him, and hears the words he longed for the Master to say, “Well done, good and faithful servant. Well done.” Thanks be to God, for the life of Les Halstead. — The Rev. Jennifer Mills-Knutsen

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