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On 10 Nov 1969,<em> Robert Lee Alexander</em>, in the company of his family, friends, and classmates, made his final trip to West Point. The journey from birth and childhood in Greenville, TN, through cadet life and a variety of Army assignments, to his final command in Viet Nam was far, far too short. On every face was the question “Why, why Bob?”</p>
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And the answer is—“To every thing there is a reason, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: A time to be reborn...”</p>
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Bob was born in Greenville, the son of Mr. and Mrs. Tom Alexander, in 1931. And there, he grew up and went to school until he left in the summer of 1949 for his first trip to West Point.</p>
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“And a time to die...”</p>
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“The Secretary of they Army has asked me to express his deep regret that your husband, LTC Robert L. Alexander, died in Viet Nam, on 31 Oct 1969. He was a passenger on a military aircraft on a military mission when the aircraft crashed and burned.”</p>
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He died, along with three captains, a lieutenant, and his battalion sergeant major from the 1-12 Cavalry, in Tay Ninh Province, about 65 miles northwest of Saigon. His brigade commander, COL C. Meyer, wrote, “Bob died—as he lived—a soldier.”</p>
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“A time to weep...”</p>
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Did Bob weep? Not for himself. Following an extremely serious sky diving accident, as he was in the hospital, close sky diving friend COL William Chandler put it, “Ice tongs in his head, Bob never let words of complaint pass his mouth. None of his fellow jumpers were too surprised when Bob jumped again, scarcely a year later.”</p>
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For others, Bob had a full measure of compassion. An associate speaks of “a continual concern with the welfare of his wife and children, a real pride in their numerous accomplishments.”</p>
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His province advisor in Vinh Long Province, during his first Viet Nam tour in 1966-67, says, “I think I will remember Bob best as a man of compassion—he was gentle with people and always tried to understand them. This personality trait was evident in his relationships with the people of Viet Nam with whom he came in contact. He was respected and liked by these people because he took a personal interest in their trials and tribulations.”<br />
“And a time to laugh...”</p>
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This is the way most people would remember Bob. As a cadet, he was the ringleader in organizing weekends to New York City or elaborate practical jokes in the barracks. As an officer, many would remember his self-satisfaction from a job well done or the exhilaration from sky diving. Many also would remember the more quiet joys of deep and lasting friendships.</p>
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“A time for war...”</p>
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Bob volunteered, after only a short stay in the States, to return to Viet Nam for his battalion command in the 1st Air Cavalry Division. Again quoting COL Meyer, “A job had to be done, and he did it. The job is necessary— just as it has been necessary for humans, throughout history, to stem the tide of injustice.” Clearly, Bob recognized the possible perils of a return to Viet Nam, yet a clear sense of duty and obligation compelled him to this last assignment.</p>
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“A time for peace...”</p>
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Bob, with his duty done, is now at peace. His course is run. His military decorations and the spontaneous out-pouring of grief at his death speak of accomplishments far beyond his short life.</p>
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Bob performed brilliantly and with exceptional professional competence. He was a solid rock, a dedicated American who served his country with honor and dedication.</p>
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There is no one who more epitomized the ideals of duty and honor.</p>
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So Bob’s mortal remains lie in the West Point Cemetery, but his spirit extends far beyond. It’s in the strength, courage, and determination shown by his wife Pat, who died in 1982 and is interred at West Point with him, and their three children—Terri, Kimmy, and Bo. His spirit remains with all those he touched during his life—senior officers he worked for, junior officers and sergeants he commanded, cadets he instructed, friends he treasured—all possessing a feeling that the world is a better place for having known Bob Alexander.</p>
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The “why” of his death is unanswerable. Perhaps his work was done. His course on earth was run.</p>
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“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God,...”</p>
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Life goes on. Bob’s standards were high, his goals lofty, and his void formidable. We who are left—family, friends, associates, and classmates only part way on our own final trip—must work to fill emptiness. The inspiration of Bob’s life will make that easier.</p>