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<em>John O. Cooper </em>was a rambunctious youth, an unforgettable cadet, a dedicated officer, a devoted husband and father. Wherever he was and whatever he did, John lived the zestful life. He will not be forgotten by those of us enriched by his comradeship.</p>
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John's affection for the Army commenced early in life. His father, grandfather, and uncle were Army officers. He witnessed the hardships and satisfactions of Service life with his family in Germany, Panama, and various stateside posts. He set his sights early on an Army career via West Point and attended Columbian Preparatory School before joining the Class of 1953.</p>
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John was an unforgettable cadet; he was the life of his barracks and full of schemes to beat the system. West Point was just his cup of tea—except for academics. This aspect of cadet life he endured with protest, a bothersome obstacle between him and that coveted commission. John was proud of his status as an academic goat, but when turnout examinations came—and for John they did so with regularity—he never faltered, displaying determination and resiliency that marked him a bom soldier.</p>
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During cadet days he escaped outside whenever possible; mountain climbing, hiking, camping, and fishing were favorite pastimes. In later years John and his family were familiar sights on hiking trails and ski slopes on both sides of the Atlantic Ocean. He was also a collector; the storage rooms at West Point bulged with his foreign uniforms, rocks, and assorted unauthorized paraphernalia. Later, the Cooper basement was taxed to accommodate John’s many treasures. His interests were as varied as the things he had done and the places he had been. His enthusiasm knew no bounds.</p>
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John, of course, went Infantry. There were the usual stints at Benning, plus tours at Fort Rucker, Fort Hood, Alaska, Korea, Fort Bragg, and the Dominican Republic. His favorite assignments, however, were two delightful tours in Germany, a land for which John had developed a childhood affection that never diminished. Even casual mention of “The Fatherland” would bring forth a gutteral dissertation followed by several strains of “Deutschland Uber Alles.”</p>
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It came as no surprise that John wore the Green Beret. What else but Special Forces for this dedicated soldier? It was with this elite outfit that John, true to form, volunteered for combat duty in Vietnam. There he found plenty of action as an advisor at Song Be, north of Saigon near the Cambodian border. As usual, he was in the thick of things receiving shrapnel wounds only a month after arriving.</p>
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John’s second Purple Heart came on 28 October 1967 when he voluntarily accompanied a dangerous medical evacuation flight to rescue a wounded Vietnamese soldier. The dense jungle made it impossible for the helicopter to land, and the enemy opened up with ground fire. Nevertheless, John and the crew hoisted the patient aboard through an opening hacked in the trees. As the helicopter attempted to gain altitude, it was hit by savage fire and crashed into the jungle. How typical that John sacrificed his life while unselfishly placing the welfare of his men above his own safety.</p>
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John leaves his wife Ann, daughter Elizabeth, and son John. Other survivors include: his parents, Lieutenant Colonel (Retired) and Mrs. John O. Cooper; his brother Walter (USMA ’62); and his sister Katherine (“Nippy”), wife of classmate Scotty Crerar.</p>
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The ranks are thin and sad without you, John. Farewell, Soldier!<br />
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