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<em>Irvin Alexander</em>, first born of Virgil and Kemme Alexander, was born on 5 November 1896 in the small country town of Heltonville, Indiana. After graduating from Heltonville High School in 1915, he entered the University of Indiana at nearby Bloomington, and there, like many fellow students, he enlisted in Company I, 1st Indiana Infantry. The regiment was soon called into federal service. After nine months on the Mexican border, Alex was appointed to the Military Academy from the Indiana National Guard. He was discharged from Machine Gun Company, 1st Indiana Infantry, as a corporal, on 13 June 1917, and sworn in as a cadet, USCC, the next day.</div>
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Thus he became a member of the Class of 1921, which graduated under wartime conditions on 1 November 1918, was promptly returned to West Point for further schooling, “graduated’’ a second time in June 1919, and is officially recorded in these annals as the Class of 1919. As a cadet, Alex was content and indeed proud to describe himself as 'goaty. Raised in a rural community and on active service for most of the year preceding his admission, he felt greatly handicapped in the academic competition. Actually he was never in difficulties with the professors. Standing 190 in a class of 284, he impressed us as a shrewd, observant chap who quietly absorbed everything he could about this unfamiliar world of West Point, meanwhile showing himself to be friendly, generous, and ready for a good time. As he overcame his early handicaps, he discovered that he was actually studious. Long before he became a captain (an event deferred for 17 years), he had graduated from the Infantry school, had been an instructor of law at West Point, had acquired an excellent working knowledge of Spanish, and had graduated from the Signal School at Fort Monmouth.</div>
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Alexander’s peacetime service was generally normal: Infantry School, China, West Point faculty, Fort Sam Houston, Signal School, Vancouver Barracks, the CCC, and a second tour at Fort Sam Houston. He was also in Nicaragua with the Election Commission for six months in 1928. On 20 December 1929, while stationed at Fort Sam Houston, he married Lucile Spindle of San Antonio. It was a true love match to the end, and sustained Alex through terrible days. Their only child, Irvin in Spindle Alexander, was born in 1932.</div>
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In 1939, forced to engage in evasive action against the Fort Sam Houston medicos—they had been muttering about retirement because of high blood pressure-Alex volunteered for a tour in the Philippines, on detail to the Quartermaster Corps. This was regarded as very choice picking in 1939, but after he arrived in April 1940 the skies grew ever darker, and when the dependents were sent home in May of 1941, every officer in the Philippines knew that war was imminent.</div>
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When the Japanese attacked on 8 December, Alex, a recently promoted lieutenant colonel, was Quartermaster at Fort Stotsenberg. He remained on QM duty (winning a Silver Star in the process) for a few days more, or until Stotsenberg had been evacuated, then requested return to infantry duty. Accordingly, on 1 January 1942 he became senior infantry advisor with the 71st Division, Philippine Army. His combat awards were the DSC, the Silver Star, and the Bronze Star Medal, and two Purple Hearts. He was promoted to colonel on 9 April 1942. He was a well-known combat leader when, on the night of 8 April 1942, General King told him that the time had come when further resistance was no longer possible, and it was now his (King’s) duty to surrender the 78,000 troops on Bataan. They had been on less than quarter-rations for weeks, and most were seriously ill with dysentery and malaria.</div>
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In the three and a half years that followed, none of the American prisoners of war suffered more than the group that included Alexander. In addition to the Death March, and to the starvation and degradation that befell all Jap PW’s, Alexander and his group were twice on Jap ships which were most effectively bombed by U.S. aircraft, taking a tremendous toll of life among the helpless PW’s. The survivors finally reached Japan on a third ship, almost naked, in freezing January weather. No clothing had been issued since they left the Philippines, although they had twice been forced to leave stricken ships emptyhanded. When Alex reached Japan he was down to 90 pounds; and when he encountered some old friends who had arrived in an earlier group, they were able to recognize him only by his voice. Their thoughts were all too plain in their horror-stricken faces. But his determination was unbreakable and with the help of some devoted young friends he survived, one of few who did.</div>
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In October 1945, Alex was met at San Francisco by his wife and son, and went to San Antonio for a slow recuperation under the care of Brooke General Hospital. There followed a year in the Inspector General’s office in Washington; and then, to his great pleasure, in August 1947 he received the assignment as senior Regular Army instructor with the Indiana National Guard. The wheel had come full circle. The rustic youth who had set out for Mexico with Company I had come back to the Indiana Guard as an experienced, battle-tested, combat veteran.</div>
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His work at Indianapolis was very successful, and there was some talk about making him a general officer in the Guard, when on 16<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>April 1949 a careless motorist did what the Japs had never been able to achieve. A National Guard vehicle in which he was a passenger was demolished in a head-on collision. At the point of death for days, Alex was in hospitals for over a year. During this year he wrote a gripping book-length account of his wartime experiences which will be invaluable to future historians. On 30 June 1950 he retired with 90 percent physical disability.</div>
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While on their National Guard assignment, Alex and Lou had been looking around for a place of their own and had bought property near Nashville, Indiana, about 40 miles south of Indianapolis. This now became their base. Alex’s old university was only a half-hour away, and there in due course he received B.A. and M.A. degrees, majoring in Spanish with a heavy slug of Latin-American history. In 1956 they went to Europe for a year so Alex could study at the University of Madrid. Every winter thereafter they drove to Mexico for several months, invariably including visits with Lou’s family at San Antonio and with their son at his home nearby where Alex found great joy in the company of his three grandchildren, Julie Ann, Katherine Ann, and Bruce Alan. It was on just such a visit that he died, without warning, very early on Christmas Day of 1963, at Lou’s girlhood home on East Evergreen Street where he had courted her so long ago.</div>
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Irvin Alexander was endowed with the strongest traits of his Scottish ancestors whose fighting qualities are legendary: tenacity, stubbornness, refusal to quit. He loved the Army and his part in it; he enjoyed authority and the making of decisions. Friendly, reliable, steady, he was a man people found they could depend upon in time of need. His health was already impaired when he went to the Philippines ‘one jump ahead of the retiring board,’ and nothing but the most indomitable spirit and a lot of luck could have brought him through those terrible years. It is even more amazing that he recovered from the horrible accident of 1949, and had 14 happy years with Lou after that. (He always said it was ‘‘borrowed time.”)</div>
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Alex faced all his challenges and mastered them all, according to the choices open to him. He emerged unblemished, a son of West Point whose record as a man and as a soldier we all can envy. “May she have sons like these from age to age.”</div>
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<em>-W. B. P.</em></div>
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