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On 1 August 1900 a young lieutenant of Engineers, making a reconnaissance 60 miles north of Manila, was ambushed by a force of Filipino insurgents outnumbering his 14 men by 20 to one. After a one-sided fight, with one of his men killed and three wounded by an enemy hidden in the steaming rice paddies, the lieutenant thought hard before he fired his last cartridge. The temptation to save it for himself was strong. Fresh in his mind was the story of another captured American lieutenant whom the insurgents had tied hand and foot and thrust into an ant heap to die in unspeakable agony. Should he risk such a horrible death—or should he surrender with his men and hope that he could help them in the sore trial of their captivity? <em>Frederick William Alstaetter</em> had reached the first hard command decision of his career.</p>
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Fred had many hard decisions to make in later years, but most of them were engineering decisions on which hung the success or failure of vast public work projects, notably the system of locks and dams which changed the unreliable Ohio River into the great artery of commercial traffic which it is today. Over a wide expanse of our country, from the Great Lakes through the Ohio Valley to the thriving seaports of the Southeast, Fred could have pointed to many an engineering project which changed the face of the country, and said: “These are my monuments.” But to us who knew him in his middle and later years, his living monument is the great affection and respect which he inspired in all of his friends in the city of his adoption-the city which he served so well in so many capacities.</p>
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Fred was born in Ohio in 1875 of a family whose founder moved to this country 10 years before the Civil War began. He graduated 6th in his class at the Academy (1897) and was appointed a second lieutenant of Engineers. The Corps of Engineers had its own promotion list in those days and in two years, after a brief sprint of river and harbor work in New York and New Orleans, he received his silver bars. By 1900 he had completed the Engineer School of Application at Willetts Point, New York, and was ordered to the Philippines on the staff of the Department Engineer. In midsummer of that year, when Arthur MacArthur was amply busy in subduing the insurgents, Fred was detailed to make a report on an old road east of the mountains to the north of Manila. He had 14 soldiers with him. The insurgent General Lacuma, with 400 men, ambushed Fred’s little party in the flooded rice paddies by the old road, and after his ammunition was exhausted, Fred had no choice but to surrender his small group. The horrible fate of a Lieutenant Brewer, who had perished trussed on an ant hill, tempted him to take the easy way out, but he stayed with his men and endured four months of heartbreaking captivity-enlivened by one desperate but vain attempt to escape, before he and his men were released in an exchange of prisoners.</p>
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From 1901 until 1918 Fred was deeply involved in river and harbor work, partly on the Great Lakes but chiefly on the Ohio River system. As a member of the Ohio River Board his sound engineering judgment and ample experience gave substance to the overall engineering plan which was adopted by Congress for the permanent navigational improvement on the Ohio. During this period he experienced ill health engendered by his Philippine captivity, and was thus prevented from assuming a troop command in Europe. In November 1918, as a colonel, he was detailed to Savannah, Georgia, as District Engineer, and it was in my home town of Savannah that I, as a young engineer lieutenant in 1922, first met Fred and began a lifelong friendship which I hold dear.</p>
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Fred was married to Rebecca Barnard Raoul in 1908, and from this union were born Mary Wadleigh in 1909, William Raoul in 1911, and Antonia in 1915. It is difficult in a few words to express the impact which his wife Rebecca had on Savannah. Like Fred, she immersed herself in civic and cultural affairs, and became one of the truly grande dames of this Southern city.</p>
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Fred was retired for physical disability in 1920, and he elected to make Savannah his home. In 1925 he rendered valuable services to Miami, Florida, as consulting engineer for its newly conceived Biscayne Bay Harbor. He then returned to Savannah for a life rich in civic and cultural activities. During World War II he eased the Engineer shortage by taking up again his duties as District Engineer in Savannah. During my service in Savannah as District Engineer in the late 1940's, and later when I retired in Savannah, Fred and I were associated in a small literary group in which the wide range of his interests was apparent. His death in 1966 left a civic void which will not soon be filled.</p>
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<em>—Paschal N. Strong</em></p>