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<em>Ralph “Doc” Eaton</em> was born in Bloomington, Illinois in 1898, the son of Herbert L. and Grace Baker Eaton. He volunteered for the Army at 17 and “prepared” for West Point in the 5th Division on the World War I Saint-Mihiel and Meuse-Argonne battlefields. Serving as a first aid man, he accompanied infantry patrols at night to the German trenches. His description of camping in the rain and dark at Verdun is more gruesome than anything produced on television.</p>
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“When I finally got home,” he wrote, “I joined the ROTC at the University of Illinois, and in 1920 a captain shanghaied me into West Point.” (Eatonese for being selected.) “I brought along a salvaged first aid kit because I didn’t know what I was getting into. It held Brown’s Cough Mixture, headache powder, throat swabs, etc. After I cured a dozen plebes word got around and I was called ‘Doc.’ My classmates liked my treatment better’n the cadet hospital because it was faster and no records.” Doc stressed the kit was salvaged.</p>
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Doc’s letters are delightful. He wrote in his original style, uninhibited and unique, his humor shining through. Samples—“I enjoy scribbling on Christmas cards, but to do 500 you have to start on the 4th of July. With the arrival of father time, I’m down to 50…When we were married the Fair Eloise didn’t know a house wren from an eagle, but she discovered my interest and became a birder, too… At a cocktail party, best thing to do is put your hearing aid in your pocket and just say, ‘Yes.’... I had a rough time in English until my instructor was head football coach Capt. J. J. McEwan, ‘The Giant from Minnesota.’ He took an interest in<em> moi</em> and gave me a bushel of 3.0s I didn’t deserve. I hated Huxley but McEwan made him my <em>ami</em>!’</p>
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When Doc became a yearling, he served as unofficial betting commissioner, going to the football game in New Haven wearing the dress coat of a fat cadet “with $3,000 in bills taped around my midsect. Marching to the Bowl, I could hardly breathe. After our 14-7 loss I went under the stands, half undressed and forked over to a bunch of Yalies, their girl friends gawking. It burned me up.”</p>
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Doc was a fine semi-pro baseball pitcher although he did not play at USMA. In 1926-27 he served as personnel adjutant, 9th Infantry in Texas and as player/coach. His team won two successive divisional championships. He wrote, “At Pettit Barracks (400’ x 150’), Zamboanga, our post team in the commercial league hadn’t won a game in 2 years. Colonel Grier was beside himself. He told Gus Herndon, ‘29, and me, ‘If you two lieutenants want good efficiency reports, get us out of the cellar.’ Gus’d go 4 or 5 innings with an o’hand fast ball, and I’d come in sidearmed and with an underhand knuckler. We didn’t lose a game, saving our efficiency reports. I played center field, too, under skies that had no ceiling, making spectacular catches, staggering around. Colonel Philoon accused me of grandstanding.”</p>
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In World War II Major General M. B. Ridgway selected Colonel Eaton as Chief of Staff of the 82nd Airborne Division. General Ridgway writes, “Doc and I had complete mutual understanding and spiritual rapport which should be the ideal relationship between a commander and his chief of staff. I am forever grateful for his superior services.” Doc wrote, “I decided the best way to handle the remarkable, fast thinking and very moral, absolutely fearless M.B.R. was to give him no advice, but when he asked for my opinion to give him both barrels of the truth, as I saw the situation. This seemed to work.” To a friend distressed at being called to the rear for conferences, away from his front-line units, “Too bad you don’t have M.B.R. as your commander. If he wanted to speak to you, he’d go up front where you are.”</p>
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On the night before D-Day, Normandy, Doc and General Ridgway disagreed. Doc said, “He wanted to sit in the front seat of the lead glider. ‘No,’ I said, ‘that’s my seat.’ I convinced him that the first night glider landing in history was no place for experiment, so I rode in front and he jumped. The glider cracked up. The landing dislocated my hip and jammed my knees. A first aid man carried me to a cowshed where we existed 2 days. All I could get him to do was hang a Red Cross flag out of the window.”</p>
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Eaton recovered sufficiently to serve as Chief of Staff, XVIII Airborne Corps and was promoted to brigadier general. He served as adjutant general, USMA from 1951-54. The career of this smart, able, humorous leader was recognized by the WWI Victory Medal, Distinguished Service Medal, 2 Legions of Merit, Bronze Star Medal, Purple Heart, 3 Commendation Ribbons and Croix de Guerre of Belgium and France. In 1986 a room in Headquarters, XVIII Airborne Corps, Fort Bragg was dedicated in his honor. For more about this remarkable man, see <em>Bold Leaders of WWI</em>, by Reeder; Little, Brown & Co., 1974.</p>
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Doc’s first wife was Mary L. Shaffer. Their children are John E. Eaton and Mary Ellen E. Burnette. In 1939 he married Eloise C. Lull, and their children are Lucy E. Jonckheere and Jane E. Roda. Doc and Eloise have 13 grandchildren.</p>
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<em>R.P.R. Jr.</em></p>